Broken Toy Book Novels & Stories

that usually involved him building increasingly complex LEGO structures while I rested in the library Rivera had mentioned. It was a beautiful room—floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled with everything from classic literature to modern medical journals. True to his word, Rivera had stocked it with medical texts, including several specialized volumes on curse-breaking that must have cost a fortune to acquire. But it was a small notebook I'd found while Louis was showing me his room that had truly broken my heart. I'd been helping him organize his LEGO collection when it fell from his bookshelf, landing open to a page titled in careful, childish handwriting: "Things To Do When I Have A Mummy."

“It means bitter soul. It’s like what you explained. A lost soul, whether they lost themselves while they were still alive, or after they died, and they wander, looking for a life to take over. If you had read more about it all, you would have been prepared.” “Hey now.” I pulled back, but she pushed me back down. “Lay down. I want to check your head.” Toya pushed again and Wendy helped her part my hair. “Amy.” She hissed as she saw the damage. I laid back down, but huffed out my breath. “I read that book, inside and out.” “There were a few pages stuck together. I don’t know why.” Toya tapped a page. “Wendy helped me figure it out.”

I knew it was strange to pick up something that belonged to someone I didn't know, but I felt compelled to repair it and return it to him - call it empathy or instilled morals but it just felt right. I worked at the community library over the summer, and Mrs. Williams, the kind librarian, had shown me a few tips for fixing torn books, so I knew exactly how to put this one back together. After an hour had passed and I was finally satisfied with the outcome. I returned the book to my bag and proceeded to the next class which was physics.

She had kept a few scrap pages from the ones that did throw out, all tucked away in the back of the oldest catalogue in her cupboard and spent some time at staring down all of the items that she had circled with all the little notes that she had made. The vast majority were from the children’s toy section and they were embarrassing. Zuzu robot hamster pets, make your own colour marker selections, a brightly coloured swing set, and so many other things that she prayed that nobody, except for Kai, would find from her. She took all those pages and reviewed the toys that she had picked out, and then threw all of them out with the exception of three: one advertising a Lego City fire and rescue se

I leaned against my car, unbothered “what does that have to do with me, I don’t work for you remember?.” “This isn’t the time for games Clarissa.” I laughed softly. “ you think i have time to play games with you, I’m too busy for that Blake, please don’t call me again” i said and ended the call. A few seconds later, the phone rang again, I picked. But this time his voice was lower, almost like he was pleading. “Please this is important Clarissa, the company is on the verge of bankruptcy, I’m loosing everything Clarissa, everything we built, I’m sorry I kicked you out, but I really need your help right now.”

The space behind the wall opened into what looked like an old study room that time had completely forgotten. There was a large wooden table at the center, its surface scratched and worn from years of use. Shelves lined the walls, filled with old books stacked unevenly, some leaning against each other like they could fall at any second. Dust clung to everything, softening the edges of the room, and the faint smell of aged paper lingered in the air. Before I could fully take it in, before I could even ask what this place was or how he found it, Leo’s voice cut through my thoughts.

Corrian says as we pass a reading nook with oversized bean bag chairs and a shelf full of books no toddler would read. I catch one title, ‘Teeth Are Not for Biting (But Sometimes They Are)’. I raise an eyebrow. “Special how?” He doesn’t answer. We pass a hallway lined with artwork. Crayon drawings, finger paints, but some of them are odd. Red scribbles in circular patterns, shapes that look more like symbols than animals. One has a giant black figure drawn with scratchy lines and tiny words underneath it. I lean closer. ‘The Bad Ones Are Coming.’

A white canopy hung over a small bed shaped like a castle, complete with a soft pink comforter sprinkled with glitter unicorns. The room smelled faintly of vanilla and crayons—somewhere between sweet and childhood. A low bookshelf to the left was overflowing with storybooks and stuffed animals, all of which had button eyes and floppy limbs and were leaning forward, as if they were ready to play. A small table and two chairs sat in one corner, surrounded by coloring books, sparkly gel pens, and a cup full of broken crayons.

I smiled bitterly at myself. Sometimes I wonder if deserve to live? Is life really worth living? I mummer to myself. I didn't realize someone heard me just now. Why do you think your life is meanless; a voice from behind. I THINK YOU SHOULD VALUE YOURSELF MORE. For what is worth your life isn't worthless, you are not a loser, or what those bastards are spatting about. I THINK YOU ARE KIND, SMART, BEAUTIFUL, AND RADIANT, the boy said. WHO ARE YOU? Amy asked him. My name is Riley Williams, you seat behind me in 2nd period with Mr. Logan in English 2 Ap. Oh am sorry, I really don't know anyone in our class, Amy said honestly. That's okay Riley smiled. Am Amy Sinclaire nice to meet you, Riley?

And I certainly won’t want that not until I read enough books to get rid of my sorrows. “ How could she do this to me?” I squat in front of the book, tore into two parts. It is as though my heart…life was torn into two parts. I picked it up, as it was soaking with my tears. “ What is wrong with Sage lately?” she was gradually behaving like Lisa, heartless, manipulator.. best at being the victim. Wiping my tears, I tried to fix my book myself, but one thing I am sure of it would never remain as it was.