Dream Meaning Of Broken Glass Novels & Stories

Then he turned and walked past me, the faint scent of smoke and whiskey trailing after him. When the front door slammed, the house seemed to exhale. My mother muttered curses in the kitchen, but I barely heard. My pulse still raced from that single look. Downstairs, shards of crystal glittered on the floor. That was the broken glasses. I tiptoed into the kitchen and crouched, running my finger along a piece until a bead of blood welled up. The sting felt real in a way nothing else did. Maybe everything really was starting to break. Maybe that was exactly what I needed.

broken, aching, filled with pain and longing. Then, crash! Glass shattered in front of me. I quickly covered my face, trying to protect myself. I was trapped in an endless void. When I lowered my hands, I saw shards of glass floating around me, each one reflecting different scenes, like fragments of a movie playing all at once. In one shard, I saw a woman who looked just like me, crying, smiling, painting. But one image made my whole body freeze. A Ferris wheel. A man speaking, smiling…

He dared to lay his hands on Mila, and my mind trailed back to the scars I saw while bathing her. My grip tightened around the glass until it shattered in my hand—again. This was the second glass shattering. “Why can't these f*cking glass companies get it right?" I muttered beneath my breath. I would probably buy out the company as well. I reached for the almost-empty bottle to have another gulp, but my hand stopped midway when the door flung open. “Zaden, are you okay?” Her Vanilla scent instantly invaded the room. “I heard glass shattering,” she spoke, forcing her sleepy eyes open.

I could hardly put a finger on how I was feeling and it was causing a lot of confusion for me. Suddenly an image flashed into my mind. Sort of like a series of moments trying to unfold and rearrange themselves in the muddy mess my head was but I could understand what those things were. They were my memories that I had lost and somehow I was getting some fragments of it like some pieces of broken glass. But the thing about broken glass was that they could cut you deep. And it would hurt.

It crashed to the ground, shattering into a thousand pieces. The sound of broken glasses filled the entire room and that was when I was brought back to reality as I watched the liquid on the floor, as well as the glass, lay in a thousand pieces on the ground, each shard glistening like a tiny mirror. “I… I'm sorry.” I quickly went on my knees, my trembling limbs reaching out to the glass, but before I could touch it, a hand stopped me and when I looked up my eyes met with green eyes showing concern for me as his soothing hands calmed my nerves a bit, but it didn't wash away my entire fear because the man from my past was still there seated a mile away from me his eyes on me as if he has foun

he took out a glass figurine from the bedside. "And you smashed it on the wall and broke it to pieces." He smashed it on the wall and it shattered, leaving scattered pieces embedded in his bloodied hands. "Just like these ones, now, its hurting you." He walked to her and showed her the glass pieces in his hands and she could only see the blood and a shattered reflection of her. "But, a broken heart can still beat again, can't it? Just like, Evander's shattered, bloodied heart still holds reflections of you."

I'm gonna break the glass. " I'm sorry, Grandpa. I need to do this." I lifted my hands and broke the mirror with all the energy and strength I got inside me. The glass shattered with a loud noise. The crack in one mirror gone up and all the mirror in the room shattered at the same time. I held my hands over my head to protect myself from getting hurt from the mirror pieces.

She might be blind but I just knew she would be able to sense it. I waved off the thought and returned to dry my hair at the table. The broken mirror was still lying face down. Why did I still have this? I picked it up and was going to dump it in the trash again when a thought crossed my mind in a flash. Quickly, my eyes scanned the words I’d seen days ago but couldn’t make any sense out of them. "Beneath the moon's mournful gaze it lies, where crimson stains mark a shattered dream but amidst the ink-stained tears of the past

He looked at the shattered glass on the floor, his eyes glowing a dark gold. "Something big," he said simply. "I can feel it just by looking at that symbol."

As I tried to move it, to watch the writing on it, the mug slipped from my hand accidentally and smashed to pieces on the ground. For a few moments, I could only stare between my mother's name on the chit and the broken glass shards; until I managed to grab a hold of myself and started cleaning up the mess. A realisation burning in the back of my mind, as I gathered the broken pieces. Sometimes, all that's left for us to do, is collect the broken pieces. Because like things; relationships once broken can never be completely put back together in the same way, no matter what. ———————-