Shatter Me Book Pages Novels & Stories

Because in that moment, we weren’t broken. We were whole. And this was just the beginning of our new dawn. THE END THANK YOU FOR READING THIS SERIES TO THE VERY END! Author I*******m @agkbooks

My hands trembled as I opened the folder. Tucked inside was a faded photograph. The church, fifteen years ago. A picture of me and a little girl... but the face wasn't Sophia's. It was Isabella. The words on the back twisted in my gut like a knife: The one who really saved you was never Sophia. The memory hit me like a freight train. The rain, the fear, her small hand in mine. It was Isabella. It was always Isabella. "No... no, it can't be..." I collapsed onto the blood-stained floor.

"Do you need something?" His eyes filled with obvious sorrow, his voice trembling slightly. "Could we... maybe talk for a bit? I know I made a lot of mistakes in the past. But I'd like to talk with you, even if it's just this one last time." Seeing his defeated appearance, I felt no stir of emotion inside. The memories that had once kept me awake at night, that had once broken my heart, now felt distant and unfamiliar. After a brief hesitation, I gave a small nod and led him toward a secluded corner.

The walls flickered—now Damon's chamber, now the council chamber, now the cell where I first saw my blood on chains, now the garden where the flowers stopped blooming when I stopped believing. Every version of me watched me fall. “Let me back in,” she said, voice cracking into something almost pleading. “Let me in before it’s too late.” But her eyes—those endless black holes—widened, and suddenly her form began to tear. Ripping at the seams. Smoke bleeding from her mouth. Something wrong pulling her apart. “I—can’t—hold—on—” she wheezed. And then she shattered. Like glass. I screamed. And woke up to silence.

SELENA Learn from me. Or destroy everything. I clutched the old book to my chest like it was the last lifeline left in a crumbling world. Its leather cover was cracked and worn, the edges stained with the dust of forgotten truths. My fingers trembled around it, but I couldn’t let go not when everything I’d believed in had just shattered before my eyes. The silence in the library was no longer comforting. It thickened around me like fog, heavy with unseen eyes. Watching. Waiting.

Everything felt frozen in time, like a snapshot of a life that had never truly belonged to her. But something about being in the room brought a sense of clarity, a feeling that she was on the verge of discovering something important. Elara’s eyes drifted toward the bookshelf, a collection of novels and journals that had once been her only refuge from the cruelty of her fake sister and the indifference of her parents. She stepped closer, her fingers trailing over the spines of the books as she searched for something—anything—that might give her the answers she so desperately needed. She pulled a few books off the shelf, flipping through the pages absentmindedly, but found nothing of interest.

Shattered Foundations Barbara stumbled through the city streets, her vision blurred by a torrent of tears. The once-familiar sights and sounds of the bustling metropolis faded into a blur as she fled the bar, her heart shattering with every step. Reaching the sanctuary of her apartment, Barbara slammed the door behind her, the finality of the action echoing through the empty space. Clutching the divorce papers in her trembling hands, she sank to the floor, her body wracked with anguished sobs.

A computer sat in the corner of the desk and there was a bookshelf along the adjacent wall. It would have given off a professional vibe if not for how trashed it was. Papers were scattered and torn all over the surface and floor, making the floor look white and black, hiding the dark carpet underneath. The computer monitor was shattered and laying uselessly on its side with the mouse and keyboard completely yanked off and thrown over to the other side of the room. The books on the shelves joined the papers on the ground. The different colored covers set off a contrast to the overwhelming black and white, but left the shelves looking dull and empty with the bare wood exposed.

Her eyes flickered back to the past for a second, focusing a few seconds later. I used the hot glue and tape, setting to work. The result made me realize mending books was not a suitable career choice. It still looked like a tattered old book, but at least everything was held together. I had glued one of the pages on backwards, making the page numbers not quite add up. The cover had been taped back together, but was still missing chunks. The entire process filled me with the first shred of relaxation I had since coming here. I felt like I was piecing back some parts of my life. My heart was still shattered, but was being held together just like this book. The thought was comforting, that eve

“So, do I, JK.” From the holder and the played fool in this certain game, as the other is the perpetrator, but is also being manipulated. The clock shatters into million pieces as its shards vanish before it could even make any sound. Now shaking those thoughts as she needed to be strong and fight the fear that comes back right into her life after the smile and joy. The book flips and then closes, flying back into her arms as the touches appear with their same prominent colors of flames, and the voice asks her.