Pieces Of Me Novels & Stories

My older brother was always my parents' favorite child. Victor had been sickly since birth, and from the time we were little, I was expected to absorb every misfortune meant for him. When his kidneys failed, my parents took one of mine and gave it to him. By then, my own body was already failing, yet when I begged them to treat me a little better, they only glared at me and cursed. "If you hadn't taken everything from your brother in the womb, why would he have suffered all these years? You owe this family. Pay it back." With untreated kidney disease worsening inside me, I died after Victor deliberately locked me inside his basement. It was painful, and it was bitter. But this life.

He just didn't want to give it to me. I turned and walked out of the jewelry store, stood at the end of the corridor, and texted my friend. "Book me a ticket to Deniro. I'm leaving the Blackstone pack." She replied quickly. "Are you sure?" I stared at the screen and typed back, "Yes." Ten minutes later, the flight information came through via text. Then I printed out the mate bond dissolution agreement and went into a coffee shop on the street. I ordered the bitterest black coffee they had.

Broken…? “What does that mean?” “It means,” he said slowly, “whatever that being was… it was too powerful to exist whole.” A cold wave washed over me. “So they… what? Destroyed it?” “No.” A pause. Then— “They split it.” My stomach dropped. “Into pieces?” “Yes.” “And one of those pieces is…” “In you.” The world seemed to tilt. “No…” But the second heartbeat pulsed again. Quieter. But there. Real. Undeniable.

How dare he make me feel like I was the one who had wronged him? The anger, a fire that had been building inside me for weeks, consumed me, and I tore it again, the pieces now small and unrecognizable. But as the anger subsided, a cold wave of regret washed over me. What had I done? This was the only piece of my past I had left, a tangible reminder of a time when the world was simple, and the boy with the golden eyes was my best friend. The pieces in my hands felt like broken glass. I had destroyed the one thing that connected me to a time when I wasn't a pawn, a lie, a ghost in the house of my enemy.

But I stayed still, letting it burn quietly. “I see you,” I whispered into the dark, voice low but fierce. “I see all of you. Your world. Your friends. Your games. And I see how easily you forget the hearts you touch. I see it all.” And then the truth hit me like ice: He had wanted all of us, one by one, like pieces to collect. And I… I had almost been just another piece. I felt my stomach twist. But somewhere in that pain, I also felt the first spark of control.

The world came back in pieces. It wasn’t a dream, that’s for sure. Nothing like sleep. More like forcing my body up out of the muck at the bottom of some godforsaken ice lake, lungs gasping, eyes splintering, everything cold and burning all at once. I felt every jagged piece of broken magic still loose inside me, shooting off ribs and scraping along bones that stubbornly refused to knit themselves back together properly. Not yet. Not without a stabilizer.

His eyes searched mine like he was looking for something—some hint that I felt the same. I didn’t know what he saw. I didn’t know what I was even showing him. “Okay,” I whispered, even though my heart wasn’t in it. He smiled. He believed it. And I let him believe it. Because I didn’t know how to tell him that someone else already had a piece of me. A piece he didn’t even realize existed. And right now? That piece was tucked away in Six’s pocket, in the shape of something so small, so silly.

"Including you." I felt black veins under skin begin to pulse. "So we same person?" "Not exactly." "Then what we?" She took slow breath. "Think of photo broken into eighteen thousand four hundred and seven pieces. Each piece still has part of picture, but none can show you whole picture." She pointed at me. "That's what you are." Then pointed at herself. "And that's what I am." I looked to older Lena. "And her?" Newcomer hesitated. "She is one who decided pieces needed to be forced back together."

And I really hated how his face beamed happily once he heard my agreement. Before I left my bedroom, I had a final brief look in the mirror to make sure I at least resembled a proper human being. It wasn't that I cared about my reputation, Leonardo’s reputation, or some strangers' opinions. I could feel how I was becoming more and more detached from worldly affairs with each passing day. When I wasn’t wearing make-up, my face looked haggard, like I had been doing heavy manual labour for decades, and my dark circles were so deep I might be mistaken for a panda if I gained weight on top of everything. My hair had recently gotten thinner, and even my Asian genes couldn’t do much to prevent it.

I stared at the floor for a moment before I look in the mirror to fix myself. I'm a mess. I should fix myself now. I'm not giving up. I don't wanna give up. But thinking about it. It still hurts. That the man you like, likes your bestfriend. To be continued....