Novel & Cerita Shattered Glass How I Met Your Mother

The dot was now on my mother's heart, and immediately, I threw myself forward, desperate to reach her in time. The window shattered with a very loud crash. Glass rained down as I collided with my mother and knocked her to the floor, pushing her sideways at the same time. There was a very loud bang. It was the unmistakable sound of a very powerful gun. And then chaos erupted.

I mutter. The mirror pulses a violent red. The heating elements are failing, the glass spider-webbing under the thermal stress. C-O-M-P-R-O-M-I-S-E-D. One final sentence scrolls across the bottom before the glass shatters into a thousand glittery shards. O-N-E G-U-A-R-D I-S N-O-T H-I-S. I drop to a crouch as the glass rains down. I don't feel the shallow cuts on my shoulders. I'm staring at the empty frame.

The room tilted hard to one side. The glass slipped from my mother’s hand and shattered on the floor. “Yvette!”

Charlotte cried out. Before anyone could reach her, Evelyn’s knees gave out. She hit the marble floor with a heavy thud. Her head made a sickening sound against the stone. She didn't move. She lay there like a broken doll, her diamonds scattered around her. "Call a doctor! Call an ambulance!" someone shouted. The room exploded into noise. People were running. Women were screaming. The "House of Glass" was finally breaking, but not in the way I expected. I ran to her. I forgot about the key in my pocket. I forgot about the car. I forgot about the escape. I saw my mother—the woman who had been a giant in my life, the woman I hated and feared—looking so small and weak on the floor.

“Now get out, you worthless slut.” I held back tears as I left the office, the door slamming shut behind me. The help around the house eying me as I made my way to the kitchen. The sadness quickly morphs into rage as I see their looks of pity. I picked up a glass and threw it across the kitchen, the glass making a loud sound as it broke. My mother ran in, fiery red hair matching mine. She was dressed in a printed dress and her makeup was heavy, with silver earrings hanging from her ears.

Now, I was his wife, trying to rebuild some shred of self worth, but every step in this place made me feel like a fraud. I grabbed a glass of water from the kitchen, my hands shaky, because I needed something normal to anchor me. But of course, I fucked it up. My grip slipped, and the glass hit the counter’s edge, shattering into a million pieces, sparkling like my nerves. “Shit!” I cursed, dropping to my knees, scrambling to pick up the shards, my fingers trembling. The glass was crystal, probably older than me, probably imported from some place I’ll never see.

Before I lost in the darkness. When I opened my eyes I was in this big room on a bed. I looked beside me with a lot of fear that someone slept with me again but there's no naked man beside me this time. And I am also full clothed. I got up from the bed and in panick I hit with a table and a vase falls on the ground loud. I kneeled down as I was seeing the pieces . The broken glass pieces. Just like me. They have broken me just like these glasses. Shattered me. I looked at the broken glasses. Should I just?? Maybe this is the only chance I get to do this.

The impact shatters the glass, sending shards flying in all directions. The room falls into stunned silence as I retrieve the divorce papers from the floor, my eyes locked on the lawyer. He swallows hard, unable to meet my gaze. The shattered glass, like my broken marriage, lies in ruins at my feet, a stark and painful reminder of the chaos that has consumed my life. I pivot to face Michael, who stands there with an emotionless mask. With a mixture of anger, frustration, and profound sadness, I take the divorce papers in my left hand and forcefully toss them at him. The papers land on his chest, scattering slightly before falling to the floor.

Something behind me shifted, like fabric brushing against a doorframe. I turned, slowly. The mirror across the room—untouched for years—was fogging. A handprint appeared on the inside of the glass. Then another. And another. Dozens. Pressing from the other side. I stumbled back, heart pounding, until I bumped against the dresser. A jolt ran through me—like static, but deeper. In my peripheral vision, the photo frame fell, crashing onto the floor. The glass cracked. Right across my mother’s face.

I let my emotions speak out and Amy shrugged a bit at the reminder of our past. “So, where were you exactly?” I questioned, my eyes curious on her and she noticed it. “Well…” She bit her lips looking nervous. “I was…” She had just begun to talk when a low cry from her mother’s room alerted us both and then the noise of glass breaking. SHATTER “Mother,” She gasped anxiously and we both ran towards her room in unison. Did her mother again harm herself??