Shatter Me Parents Guide Novels & Stories

Oh shit! "Tank we.. we talked about this earlier, Shawnae will be without a parent.. Look I know what they did to me was fucked up! And believe me, you are not alone in wanting to avenge me. My Father wants his head as well! And I'm sure if my Godparents got wind of this, he'd be dead in two shakes of a lambs tail!" I chuckle but he gives me a serious look making me sigh, "You're right it's not a laughing matter I know. I'm just trying to get you to see that he isn't worth the time or the energy, Babe okay?" I say wiping his tears with my thumbs. This is supposed to be a great night and we're wasting it talking about Him. He has unfortunately occupied enough of my life. And I refuse to let h

My dad always beat me to black and blue except the face so, he could not see what kind of monster he had become through the years. Same as everyone. So, I needed to show them what they are. Monsters. My innocence was stolen from me by the people like Nicholas and Caleb. I'm one of the victims of this tragedy, broken by reality. My scars are like a badge reminding me every day of what had the nightmare brought down by my father has made me. I looked into his face letting him peek through my hardened walls. I didn’t know what exactly he sees but I saw him flinch before he mouthed a silent sorry and nodded his head in an affirmative. So, I did without batting an eyelid.

And I was just standing in the middle of my room, breathing hard, with broken glass at my feet. The door was still open. And my mother walked in slowly, like she was stepping on glass. “What is it?” she said gently. “What happened? Talk to me.” I didn’t speak. My father came closer, tried to hold my shoulder. I stepped back immediately. “I said, nothing,” I muttered. She looked around the room—the broken lamp, the torn shirt, my face. “You’re shattering things. Everything. What’s the problem, son? Just talk to me.”

He stares at me for a few minutes letting the words sink in I guess. “Well, I know your dad and he’s a fighter. He’s too stubborn to let a drunk take him away from the ones he loves!” he says so sure of himself. “Sometimes you have no choice but to leave the ones you love.” the words are out of my mouth before I can filter them. Crap why did I just say that? Reagan you need to get your act together! I scold myself. “Its just a feeling, I can’t say why but I know your dad is going to pull through, he’s going to wake up and he’s gonna cuss us all for worrying about him.” Trust him the voice in my head says again. Ignoring it I laugh, “You know I think you’re right, he hates being the center o

"There's always a choice, Margaret, until there isn't one. He didn't take me for money. He took me because he wanted me to remember exactly what he has on me, and what happens to this family if it ever sees daylight." A chair scrapes against the floor. "What did you agree to?" My father doesn't answer right away, and in the silence I lean closer without meaning to. My hands find the small table against the wall, and the framed photo on it tips, slow, then not slow, and shatters against the floor before I can catch it. The voices inside go dead silent. The door opens before I can move. My father stands there, looking at the broken glass at my feet, and then at me. Something behind his face is

Ruin me again? Did Anthony still have the power to ruin me? As much as I didn’t want to believe it, the truth was… yes. He did. One look, one careless word, one reminder of what we used to be, and I was back at square one. A teenage girl with her heart cracked open and no shield to protect it. He didn’t even have to try. He just existed, and I unraveled. But was I going to let him ruin me again? Absolutely No. I wasn’t going to give him that power. Not this time. I’d built myself up from ashes before, brick by brick, scar by scar. I had clawed my way back into the sport, into myself. He didn’t get to take that from me again.

It shattered. Blue was stunned. Tears welled up in his eyes. He couldn’t speak—his most cherished possession had just been destroyed. Zander approached and grabbed Blue by the collar, but Blue no longer cared. His eyes were glued to the shattered guitar. “We raised you well, Blue! Where did we go wrong?” Zander shook him. “What got into your head to make a s*x scandal?!” Blue stared at his father. Crezelda came closer and slapped him hard across the face.

He yelled I recognized that face, that angry face, it's triggering memories that are fighting to be let out, I closed my eyes. "She's at the venue." My mum's voice was heard, I let my eyes open, the once angry features on Javi's face was gone as excited as my mum, we both locked eyes before he left. "You said he was better." I glared at my dad. I can't believe they'd let him get into another marriage when he clearly has problems. "He is, he takes his meds regularly." My dad whispered. Bullshit! "Then what was that." I can't fucking believe this.

My breath caught, my heart stilled, the photo, Victor, a woman, two boys, smiling, a park, sunshine, her dark hair, his arm around her, the boys, young, their eyes his, my world falling, my world shattering, the implication stark, a family, unstated, no labels, no rings, but enough, too much, my heart pounding, my guilt overwhelming, my memories washing, my parents' arguments, Mom's sobs, Dad's slammed doors, my room, headphones, music, hiding, shattered, my fear, my truth, I was her, the other woman, breaking something, someone, my heart shattered, my world shattered, real. I took an envelope, my hands trembling, the metal cold, the glass smooth, my eyes fixed, Victor's smile, her comfort,

Trust, once unassailable, lay shattered, and the process of rebuilding would demand time, patience, and a willingness to confront the painful truths that had long festered beneath the surface. As they navigated the emotional minefield, the siblings clung to each other amidst the wreckage, their shared emotional breakdowns forming the crucible from which a new understanding of family would slowly begin to emerge. In the ruins of shattered illusions, the potential for healing and renewed bonds awaited, obscured by the fog of anguish and the echoes of unspoken pain.