Shattered Sanity Novels & Stories

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 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.

The mirror shattered, its reflective surface shattering into a thousand fractured shards, mirroring the shattered fragments of his own psyche. Each act of destruction only fueled his anger further. He tore at his own clothes, ripping them from his body in an act of primal defiance. The remnants of his torn attire lay strewn across the room, discarded like the remnants of his shattered control. As the room bore the brunt of his unleashed fury, Stanley's chest heaved with exhaustion. His anger, once a blazing inferno, now simmered into a smoldering intensity. The air hung heavy with the remnants of his outburst, a suffocating haze that mirrored the turmoil within him.

I stare out the window and I only assume that it’s late afternoon from the pristine sky. When my hope of help dashes, I surge to my feet. Tears fill my vision, blurring my path. With an agonizing howl, I thrash around, gather the sheets in my hands and send it spinning across the floor. Now, I’m teetering on the edge of insanity. This….this...whole thing drives me insane. My chest heaves…. Unable to control it again, I wail into the air, I cry and shout. I rush across the room…to the mirror standing opposite me and I stare at myself. The person glaring back at me is a girl broken….shattered.

Just me. I cursed under my breath, slamming the glass again, harder this time. It shattered, shards scattering across the floor like pieces of my sanity. My knuckles stung, crimson welling at the skin, but the pain was almost welcome. At least it was real. At least it wasn’t memory.

Vincent Torrino's directive, a placebo treatment will be administered to ensure permanent functional impairment. I collapsed to the floor, the report fluttering from my hand. For three years, I had cried myself to sleep, hating my own weakness, hating that I couldn't create. And he, the husband I loved more than life itself, was the one who had destroyed me. Tears streamed down my face, hot and furious, but I wiped them away with a vicious swipe. This wasn’t the time for grief. It was time for answers. I quietly put everything back, my movements stiff with newfound purpose.

She was sharpening herself, steel against stone. “He has guts,” I muttered, voice low, cold. “Or no sense of self-preservation.” “Neither,” she snapped. “He’s desperate. And desperate men are stupid.” Her eyes flicked to mine. “So? What do we do?” I didn’t hesitate. “We change the approach.” She tilted her head, watching me the way she did when she wanted the unvarnished truth. “Change how?” “Madness,” I said simply. “He has more than enough sanity he’s putting to waste. Let’s strip him of that. Piece by piece. Until he can’t tell the difference between reality and the ruin he made for himself.”

“I’ll try. But right now… you’re toxic.” The call cut off. I sat frozen, the word toxic reverberating in my skull until it drowned out everything else. My pulse roared in my ears. My breaths came shallow. Everything I’d built, everything I’d bled for—gone, shattered like glass on pavement. With shaking hands, I tried to call Ethan. He'd know something. He'd know what to do, which string to pull, whom to call. But before I could shift the car into gear, a burst of headlights swerved across my windshield. Tires screamed. A black van cut and pinned me in.

I stopped in front of a cracked mirror, my reflection staring back at me with hollow eyes. I barely recognized myself anymore. The man I used to be was fading, slipping away like sand through my fingers. It was as if the asylum was erasing me, piece by piece. I could feel my sanity fraying at the edges. Then, as if summoned by my despair, I heard her laughter—a soft, melodic sound that chilled my bones. My heart raced. “Elias, my love,” she sang, and the air around me crackled with anticipation. “Are you ready for a night of madness?”

VALENTINA I stared at the broken mirror, pieces of it scattered across the tiled floor like shards of my sanity. My reflection fractured and blood streaked stared back at me. My chest heaved. My mind raced. And my heart... my heart was a battlefield. Every breath was a war cry.