Pieces Of Me Novels & Stories

I nod confidently. At this moment, I promise myself that I will never return to this place ever again and never look back at those people who stooped so low and hurt me.

I want to know if it was the same thing from a time before. “It’s called Piece.” “It’s a piece.” I knew it. That figure that looks like a puzzle piece is Piece. I know it doesn’t make any sense at all calling that piece a Piece. It’s weird, but that girl I knew before is weird enough to call her dog Doug.

* I saw the beauty of the sky Colors so vibrant you'd think they never die * I saw the beauty of the waves Every splash telling a story of younger days * I saw the beauty of the rains Every drop falling freely like horses without reins * I saw the beauty of the night For only then were the stars alight * I saw the beauty in the flames of a fire Each one burning with a different desire * I saw the beauty of Gold Glistening with bitter stories untold * Oh I saw the beauty of dust and clay Simple reminders of our end someday. Opening her eyes she realized it was afternoon for sunlight now streamed into the room through the partly parted curtains. She felt better after a nap, it did her as much

I stumbled and dailed Mia's number. After four rings Mia picked up, I clust the phone tight and shuttered, "Mia.. I.. It's.. Pain.. Help" I can't continue cause the pain is increasing gradually like the day before. My eyes began to swell with tears. I am aware Mia saying something but I can't concentrate on her words either than pain. I felt a knot in my guts, dizziness made me drop the phone. My skin began to burn. I plopped onto bed. Pain took over me, I was thrashing to endure it, my small bed didn't help so I fell to floor with a thud. That's not a problem but the real one is I got strung by glass pieces from the broken decorative items which I destroyed a little while but you know what

I've started to miss you Pieces of you The fleeting touches I've started to miss them again. This time, I'm not sure if I'll ever not miss them. You stay next to me with me in your arms but your eyes search for somebody else, something else. Do you need more? Or do you need less? Do you need me? Or do you need her?

I’m a mess. The suitcase sprawls open on the bed, half-packed, mocking my futile attempts to hold my life together. Each item I throw into it feels like I’m tearing a piece of my heart away, discarding memories, dreams, and hopes. My hands tremble, fingers slipping on zippers and clasps, as I struggle to breathe through my sobs. This again. My heart is getting torn out for the second time in as many months.

My pulse thrummed, a war drum calling me deeper, pulling me toward Leo. The Crystal Society palace stretched ahead, a cavern of ruin where my grandfather once greeted the powerful and the damned. I stepped inside, boots grinding against shattered glass, and caught my reflection in the broken crystal mirror - a million jagged pieces staring back, each one a shard of me. My face splintered into chaos, eyes hollow, mouth twisted, as dilapidated as the walls around me. I pressed a hand to my chest, feeling the steady thud beneath my ribs, and wondered how something so whole could feel so fucking fractured.

She stuttered staring at her with her eyes wide open in obvious shock. "What do you mean 'I made it out?' And what's with the look? " Kim rasped out. "Kimberly Anderson, it's just been a day and you are out already, it usually takes few days, and you don't look starved like someone coming from the cell," Zoey said her hot gaze all over Kim. "When I heard that you've been locked I thought I lost you, cause that place is not somewhere I would wish even for my enemy."

Dropped them like he was doing me a favour. I wanted to scream. To break something. To punch the walls until my fists bled. But all I could do was sit there, trapped and shaking, scared out of my goddamn mind. The cuffs bit into my ankles. My wrists stung where they’d been rubbed raw. My throat burned like I’d swallowed broken glass. Pieces. That’s what he said. I kept hearing it. Over and over. Pieces of me. Sent home like a package nobody asked for. I didn’t know how long I sat there, curled into myself like that would make it all go away. The room was still dark. Still cold. Still quiet—except for the sound of my heartbeat, frantic and hollow in my ears.

Every code change was a message. You are replaceable. A trembling laugh bubbled in my chest. Replaceable. Just like my mother said I would always be. I pressed the heel of my palm to my eyes, willing the tears back. Tears were useless now. Weakness was unacceptable. My phone buzzed with a new notification. I lowered my hand and read the alert: @EloiseSinclair: Thank you all for believing in me. For letting my broken pieces find a place to shine. This is just the beginning.