Shattered Innocence Novel Novels & Stories

It would be hard to shake that smell. Once I had been fed, I was given a place to sleep in a small storage closet. Not exactly the most comfortable accommodations, but they were safe and private, at least. I took a long drink from my water bottle and opened a candy bar for a little celebration. And stopped. My hand lowered to my lap as I pressed my other hand to my head, the tears forcing their way out. I remembered poor Janice... another casualty of my youthful stupidity. That one, simple mistake had led to so much pain and loss. I'd only found one key... as much of a triumph as that was, I knew I had to move on soon. I had to fix this, had to prevent any more useless deaths, but it was har

MATTEO She is so beautiful. When I look at her from close, that’s what I always think. She is beautiful but she is beaten and broken. She is damaged and dangerous. They had taken her innocence and her peace of mind. It hurts me to know that whatever she does now to bring her old self back, it won’t ever be enough. Valentina is gone. It seems the innocent girl, the one who was whole, had died a long time ago and what I see now is the broken shell of a person she once was.

A PAWN & A KING ~ALICE’S POV~ I was still standing there, staring at the door Noah had just walked through, trying to piece my sanity back together. But that was the thing about sanity. Once it cracks, it doesn’t take much to shatter. A low groan cut through the silence. I turned slowly, my stomach flipping as I saw Edward stir on the floor. Another groan, and he rolled onto his side, wincing as he dragged himself up onto his elbows.

Crash Course Rebellion is returning to school. It's currently 6 am and I'm already dressed for school which doesn't start until 8. I could barely sleep after the events of last evening. I was dreading walking through the beige halls of Greenhall and seeing the disdain on the faces of hundreds of elitist kids. They already despised me, who knows what they'll do to me now? Of course, Jackie will never let anything happen to me but just how can she protect me from the messages I've already begun to receive?

I kicked it so hard it collapsed sideways, books scattering like fallen leaves. The full-length mirror? I hurled a decorative crystal at it, watching with sick satisfaction as cracks spiderwebbed across the glass until it shattered completely. But none of the things he gave me ended up on the ground. None. As if a part of me was silently protecting them. I sank to the ground, where shards of glass decorated the floor like twisted flowers in a cursed garden. A few pierced my fingers, but I didn’t give a damn. Let it hurt. It wouldn’t kill me.

But I also can't live in the dark forever. The uncertainty eats at me. Every time I close my eyes, I see flashes of that night. The broken glass. His face. The ring in my hand. And Justice. Always her name, like poison on my tongue. Who was she to me, really? A mistress? A friend turned enemy? Or someone far more dangerous?

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,

The memoir she once swore she’d never write. Each keystroke was a heartbeat. Each sentence, a reclaiming. They said silence was survival. But silence was the weapon that killed me the slowest. Hours passed. The rain outside turned to a downpour, tapping against the glass like impatient fingers. But she kept writing. By the time dawn touched the horizon, Alina had twenty pages. Pages that bled truth, grief, strength — and hope. She saved the file, titled it “Shattered Promises — Draft 1.”

Though Brewster was tall, about as tall as him, who was in his early twenties, he also knew Brewster was only 19 this year, and Brewster was a really young man. To be able to survive in the industry with his superior look without being snatched by some rich women or men... Shawn felt like Brewster was really lucky. But this sort of luck... Shawn strangely didn't feel envious. Instead, he genuinely wished Brewster would remain this clean for a long time. Maybe it was his last bit of conscience after facing the horror of the entertainment industry, but he really wanted to protect an innocent child like Brewster which made him feel that life wasn't that gloomy after all.

In that pitch-blackness, with only the faint, lingering scent of cologne in the air, I finally let myself give in. I wept. I wept until my chest felt tight. I wept until my tears blurred everything around me. I wept until the sound of my own cries was the only thing I could hear. And in that never-ending, suffocating solitude, I drifted into a restless, fragmented sleep, knowing that when morning came, the world would wake up to my shame, and there would be no one to save me.