Broken Open Novels & Stories

It sets you free. She prayed she and Beau and her siblings and friends stayed happy and loving in their relationships. They had been through a lot together. They broke each other yes, but they fixed those cracks with gold and it was beautiful. There was wonder in destructionand they had each other to get through the rubble of brokenness. *BREAKING YOU* *ThE end*

“Go ahead.” He took pictures of my face from different angles. And then checked my face. He clicked a button and then started talking. “Patient has a broken cheek. Possible broken occipital bone, both eyes have broken blood vessels. Nose is broken, in what looks to be three spots.” He hissed as he checked my lip. “Split lip.” He pulled away. “Is there anything else?” I nodded. I nodded to my side. “I’d love to help, but I have a rib sticking through my side.”

Yeah right, I do look pitiful right now. At least, I’m still holding my phone. Until… “Fuck….!” I can’t open my phone ‘cause of the huge crack on the screen. It’s obviously broken due to violently falling on my knees and using my hands for support. I waited for a few more seconds before forcing myself to stand up. I wobbly walked, without any direction, trying to find a place to stay for a while.

My nose broken, pointing to the smashed left cheekbone. Man #2 has a preference of breaking each rib in 2 places with his cleat covered boot tips, while the last took a hideous pleasure in trying to break my testicles. He said so. I broke his best friend's pelvis, he was going to break my balls. He ended up getting even for his friend's pelvis in the process.

I can touch my body and my clothes. "Pryce?" I heard Blair call me, and I tried to control my breathing. Damn, I better let this playful mind and eyes of mine stay still. I need water, and water is what I am here for. And I open the faucet to look for any running water, yet there is none. Then I tried opening and closing it again, but I was startled when it broke. Oh, no. I looked at my hands and felt like I just used a reasonable amount of strength, but why did it break?

he said, smiling. "Your hand is broken,” I observed, glancing at his injured hand. "Only my hand." I stared at him. "Your neck is dislocated." "Was." I raised an eyebrow. "And your ribs are fractured." He shrugged. "I've had worse." "You're impossible,” I said, laughing without meaning to. He shrugged. I shook my head. "Come on. You need to move around a little." Adrian looked at me. "Are you sure?"

I held on. --- The door burst open. Not in a dramatic way. Not with a crash. It just... burst. Wood splintered. Hinges snapped. A body came through—massive, dark, covered in blood. Draven. He was a wreck. His face was bruised. His eye—his good eye—was swollen shut. His shoulder was wrapped in a makeshift bandage that was soaked through with blood. He was limping. Breathing hard. But he was standing.

In his time as a True Crime writer, Byron had interviewed many people, many of them disturbed or troubled in some way. In these interviews, he would often run up against what he called The Breakdown, to the point where, due to the pressures of telling him their story a person would hit an unknown well of feelings and just… shut down, usually in a maelstrom of tears. They always recovered but it was at a point that Byron always hated, even dreaded.

Liam and Olivia were visible in distance. I picked up the chair before me. Swung it in the air smacking the glass window. No cracks in the first bang. Thin lines appeared in second time, but not many. Third pound cracked the glass even more. In the fourth strike it broke down into shards. I set one leg in through the opening, ducked my head and plunged to the ground. My back was stabbed by the shattered glass. A wave of piercing agony unrolled. All this went in vain. A foot stepped in it had white sneakers, with red and blue strip, on. Olivia ducked her head and entered.

He looks at the mattress and sees a puddle of blood where his ass was. Aiden turns away from the bed and staggers around the room, Tears run down his face as he cries. His vision is blurry as he looks through his tears, looking for something, but he's unsure what. Not until his eyes land on something, and he knows that's what he needs. Aiden stumbles across the basement toward the piece of broken metal hanging from the radiator. He grabs it and begins pulling as hard as he can. He wiggles and pulls on it until it finally breaks off.