Shattered Girl Novels & Stories

“Isn’t that the reason you would want to get rid of it? It’s going to scar if you leave it like this.” “That’s the reason I want to keep it.” I looked at Junto, but he still wasn’t getting it. I shook my head and looked back at the lake. “What happened with her?” “That night of the Gathering changed her. The last time she saw you two was when she was casting the fire. She used her ability to its limits and passed out. When she came to, you guys were already missing. She spent the next couple days searching for the two of you, but none of us could find you.”

Izzy Pov... In the caverns of her chest, a once vibrant heart now lay shattered, its fragmented pieces scattered across the desolate landscape of her soul. Each jagged edge of pain bore witness to the relentless onslaught of disappointment and loss, carving a deep chasm within that seemed to swallow any semblance of joy. Her constant cries aren't enough to heal her callous shattered heart. The weight of unspoken grief anchored her spirit, its heaviness an ever-present reminder of the ache that seemed to seep into every fiber of her being.

“How about some milk to calm those nerves?” She opened the fridge, pulling out a glass of milk. I heard the soft hum of the appliance door shutting. Then, the sharp ring of the telephone broke the stillness of the room. Miss Morris set the milk down and reached for the phone. Her cheerful tone shifted the moment she answered. “Yes, this is the Morris residence,” she said. Her voice faltered as the person on the other end spoke. The sound of the glass shattering against the wooden floor jolted me upright. My heart began to race.

She had a grim look on her face as she pulled out a bottle of sulfuric acid from behind her and shouted, "Why do you get everything just because you're born into privilege? Why should I have to suffer my whole life just because I was born into nothing? I'm going to take you down!" Lisette lifted the bottle of acid and charged at me. Vernon sprinted toward me in a panic. "Honey!" I kicked Lisette hard in the knee. She screamed as she fell, the acid splashing all over her face. Her shrieks pierced the air as she thrashed on the ground, clutching her face. The police brought Edgar and Silas out. They took one look at Lisette, then quickly turned to me. "Cecilia, are you alright?"

"What? Do you think I'm making this up to scare you?" The warm light from above cast a slanted shadow on the edge of the table. He stared at me, and for once, didn't rush to deny anything. "You broke up with me…because of this?" I almost laughed. "Does it even matter now? Even if I were healthy, I never would have lasted long enough for you to finally turn around and look at me. I overheard your friends talking. Apparently, I wasn't even someone you'd be willing to settle for. I used to think we'd actually make it to the end."

Chapter 97 – The Book She Wrote The house was quiet again, but this time it was the kind of quiet that hummed with purpose. The kind of quiet that filled the room with possibilities rather than emptiness. I sat at my desk, pen in hand, notebook open, staring at the blank page for a long time before writing the first words. “Shattered Vows,” I whispered to myself. The title alone made my chest tighten, a reminder of everything I had lived through—the love, the lies, the heartbreak, the forgiveness, and the slow, painstaking rebuilding of myself.

I turned my head slowly, my eyes adjusting to the deep shadows of the storage vault. Huddled on a filthy, fluid-stained mattress in the far corner of the stone floor was a girl. She couldn't have been more than nineteen years old, her fragile body shivering violently beneath a thin, tattered cardigan. Her face was a horrific, swollen map of deep purple contusions and fresh lacerations, her lips split and bleeding into her chin. But it was her eyes that destroyed me in an instant—wide, glassy, and completely hollowed out by days of absolute, systematized torment.

Six months of hell can change a person. I stared at my reflection in the floor to ceiling mirrors of the training room. The girl who had crawled into Alpha Darius’s car was gone. That girl had been a victim, a broken thing with mud in her hair and a shattered heart. The woman staring back at me was a stranger.

People spilled out of bars and houses, phones raised, mouths open. Then the things came through. Not one. Not ten. Hundreds. Shadow-wraiths with too many joints. Hounds made of broken mirrors. Children with mouths where eyes should be. And at the center of the rift, riding a tide of black glass, was the girl. Only she wasn’t a girl anymore. She was the size of the Superdome, limbs of void, crown of screaming moons, eyes galaxies that had forgotten how to die. Her voice rolled across the city like a funeral bell.

After a long moment of just holding each other, I tilted my head back to look up at him. “Is there any way we can survive this?” he asked me finally. I sighed as my shoulders slumped. “I don’t know, Galen. I really don’t. I have never seen her like this. She has always been ferocious, but this is on an entirely different level. I was there when Jonas used and then rejected her. She was broken for a few days, and then her anger took over. But even during those moments, she was just broken. Cracked.” I ran my fingers through his hair as I stared into his eyes. “She’s not just broken over Alek, Galen. She’s shattered. There’s no glue, paste, bandaid, or tape that can fix the cracks this time. T