I Pick Up This Broken Pieces Novels & Stories

TRISTAN "I gave you two days off, and what do you use it for?" My uncle slammed the glass against the wall, and it shattered into a million pieces. "To find that fucking boy!" The dim orange light overhead hurt my eyes more than it should, and my surroundings were slowly becoming a kaleidoscope of colors. I raised my hand, staring at my fingers as they constantly changed in number and shape. My droopy lids weren’t helping matters. So numb... but not numb enough. The intoxication was wearing off, but I knew I wasn’t getting any more liquor if I stayed here—not when the Boss had angrily hurled my drink against the wall.

Asking for more. Jeremy broke the kiss, his breath a raw shudder. "I have to ask you this" he said. His voice sounded hoarse and he still held her. "Do you love me?" Do you still love me? Say it! Say it!" Jeremy demanded. Penny broke away from him with a last effort gathered from the remnants of her waning strength. She gathered herself quickly, straightening her shoulders and nodding even though her breath came in gasps and her lips stung from his kiss. She walked unsteadily across to the window and stood staring out into the darkness... Her back towards him.

My utensils, my books, my only frame. It has Vicky's and Mom's pictures in it but it is broken. I crouched down and took out the picture from the broken glass. My heart broke as I stared at the picture while standing up straight. A tear rolled down my face as I trailed my fingers on the picture. Vicky's bright smile made me want to see her and hug her. I miss her so much. I looked around me again, taking in my destroyed place. Who could have done this? Why would they do this?

Her breath caught. “But breaking doesn’t always mean ending,” I continued, my voice gentler now, steadier as I managed to sniff in my snort. “Sometimes it just means we come back… differently.” She stared at me like she was trying to hold onto every word, like they might slip away if she didn’t. “There’s a saying,” I added, reaching up to wipe a tear from her cheek, my thumb lingering there for just a second, “pieces broken beyond repair that come back together can’t be broken again.”

Stooping down, I tried to gather the scattered pieces of memory I had managed to capture. My hands trembled as I picked up the fractured remains-the ID card, the wig, and worst of all, the broken fragments of my camera. Each piece cut like glass in my palms, sharp reminders of everything that had just unfolded.

Because based on his advices, he seems to be an expert in the problem I am facing. "I don't think you can win her back. Remember this Del Mundo, not everything that breaks is restored. Cianna's fragile, and you know that fragile should be handled with care because once it's broken, it can't be repaired. Glasses, vases and other fragile materials—ike this. . ." "What the h*ll!" I screamed after he dropped the glass he was holding. "Look at that glass, I broke it. Now, let me fix it." He knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of glass one by one.

Perhaps I looked too calm. I was so calm that Josie couldn't ignore me. Her eyes kept drifting back to me. When it was her turn to take the stage, she dragged Alex along. She was smiling brightly. "The reason I'm standing here today is because of my brother. During the earthquake years ago, he was abandoned and missed his chance to be rescued. Although he survived, he was never able to live like a normal person. "I'm grateful that I became a doctor and was able to achieve this medical breakthrough!"

Thank the Gods that I don’t have to go through that hell anymore. I just didn’t care about anyone anymore and slowly they all forgot about me. That’s fine. I may be a broken mess but I’m still here. Still painting my heart out. But in my gut, I know I could and should do better. I always feel like there is more. Like I am only seeing the cover of my own book. I just don’t know how to open it.

The mirror invites Perci to see his soul and the condition of his heart, to look past physical features. He sees nothing but a man in his 40's, single and broken. 'I wish I had not met you again.' He broke the mirror; it was the last mirror in his room because the rest is broken. A crack runs across the glass, finding the weaknesses that were once small. From a perfect mirror to something that is unrecognizable. He watches each fragment fly outward until they lie still yet vicious on the Marmol floor. Breaking glass has become his art and comfort. There is nothing more broken than his heart. Those fragments are nothing compared to his heart. He watched them shatter and release just a fragmen

Everyone of us is broken in one way or the other. We just find a way, a thing or a person that glues us together. And sometimes, we don’t even find that so we learn to live with our broken parts and wait for that day when they will stop hurting. ~ A. Gupta Violet