I Pick Up This Broken Pieces Novels & Stories

But my trembling hands caused my favorite wine glass to fall onto the floor and shatter into a million glistening pieces. "Goddammit!" I cried piercingly, kneeling down as if I could possibly put the glass together again. But who am I fooling—I can't fix it. I can't glue these broken pieces together, no matter how hard I try; I'll only make my hands bloody and spend time trying to fix something that's unfixable. What I can do? I can stare at the mess until I get a broom and throw what has become of my favorite wine glass away in the trash, accepting the fact that it can never be mended again.

I was the misfit that was such a pathetic loser that now I finally understood why on earth would anyone truly ever want to remind with me, they can like me, but he was right, everyone was, in the end they would run and I would be left alone. At last, I was the real definition of broken, pathetic, and loveless.... The phone slipped from my hand, it was an accident, so I tried to catch it with my shaking hand, but when I failed, and it shattered on the floor, and switches off, I looked at the broken pieces of the screen that was just like...me "You won" I felt the wetness on my cheeks, it was tears, and I had expected them sooner.

This motion stopped at the place where I had broken the vast and I noticed that I hadn't done anything about the shards. "I should probably clean this up..."I said louder than necessary then I bend down, in my crouch position I reached for one of the larger ones with a pointed tip griping it until I felt some of the shaper edges sink into my skin but I didn't flinch I wouldn't be here now if that was enough to break me. Then in a breath I stood up turned around and held up the pointed tip it was now inches away from a bobbing Adam's apple. "Feisty, I like it."

"The pieces want to be home, but they get lost. You just have to give them the right sequence. If you miss one turn, the whole cube stays broken. But if you follow the sequence... it’s impossible for it not to work.” For weeks, I’d been viewing my life as a glass vase that has shattered on the floor; I am constantly trying to glue the shards back together into a shape that no longer exists. I thought I needed a miracle, or a drink. But looking at Chris, I realize I was wrong.

What if they come down here and accidentally hurt themselves? I grab the broom and dustpan from the back and start sweeping. It's frustrating to clean up the mess of my new life. It feels like I'm always starting over. Something always goes wrong, and sometimes I just get so tired of it all. As I sweep, my eyes start to water. I watch the pieces of glass slide into the dustpan, and it feels like they symbolize every broken part of me over the years. Each piece represents exhaustion, loneliness, and betrayal. They keep piling up, and if I put them together, it would probably look like a fractured statue barely holding its shape.

softened. Adam. No, it's fine. I just want you to know this, because I think you deserve to know who I am. His brows— his eyebrows pulled tight. You don't owe me an explanation for who you are. I looked down at our hands together. They looked beautiful. I know. I just want to tell you. For a minute, neither of us spoke. The only sound in the room was the sound of the machine connected to me and our breaths clashing with one another. I remember being seven, I said slowly. I came home from school one day. I had an injury on my knee and my arms were bruised. I could barely lift them above my head, and I told my father that I did not want to skate anymore. Eli looked at me. What happened? He to

he said, lifting my wrist adorned with a thin business watch. "It suits you even better than I imagined." The right hand of the man who had signed countless merger deals trembled slightly from nervousness. "If you don't want to wear it on your ring finger, you can wear it on a necklace first," Albert added cautiously. I shook my head with a smile, about to let him slide the ring onto my finger, when a deafening crack of breaking tempered glass cut me off. Shards sparkled through the air as Jeff burst in like an untamed beast.

I stopped and looked back, puzzled. Seeing the complete lack of recognition in my eyes, Sarah finally broke down, tears streaming down her face. I frowned, got into the car waiting by the curb, and left without hesitation. In the rearview mirror, Sarah's figure, crouched by the roadside sobbing, gradually shrank and disappeared.

"You are an amazing person whether you see it or not. You see everything you've been through as bad luck but I see it as struggles that you made it through and became stronger from. I'm not scared of your past, Tiffany." Tiffany exhaled through her noes. She held a worrisome and somewhat sad look on her face which made my chest ache because I knew she was finding it hard to believe and accept that someone was willing to love her despite the baggage she was carrying. "Maybe you're right," she finally said, looking at me with soft eyes. "But... I'm broken and messed up and have pieces of me all over the place. That's not something anybody should have to deal with, Noah."

I had become a broken vessel, shattered and discarded, just like the windows of my soul. As I stood there, swaying on unsteady feet, I couldn't help but feel like a mere pile of mud, trampled on by the world around me. My spirit was fractured, my hope shattered. But deep down, buried beneath the layers of pain, a flicker of defiance remained. A small voice whispered, "Maybe, just maybe, there's a way to piece myself back together."