Sidewalk Prophets Make Me Broken Novels & Stories

--- I remembered when I sing that song, I was totally broken. I felt so...numb, empty, shallow. And I wish my heart would be unbroken by now. Cause I am still BROKEN inside. Not in a romantic relationship, but I'm broken. Broken because of what people are doing with me. I said in that song, that they would never let me down cause I'm titanium. And I did that. Everyone who tried to messed up with me didn't succeed.

I reveal. “I’ve lived here far longer than you, Little Wolf. I know that.” Grayson scoffs, I shake my head and rise to my feet, my eyes clashing with his. “Maybe, but you refuse to acknowledge it - like everyone else on Eldora. I’m broken. The world is too. Creatures refuse to see it - why? Why is it so hard for us to accept it? As weird as this may sound, I’m okay with feeling broken. Being broken proves to the assholes who’ve hurt us we aren’t the monsters the universe and the Gods portray us to be. It’s my ability to feel broken, that makes me feel better – to want to be stronger.”

Milo's POV "No See Umz", a song I remembered from before I died, a beautiful piece of art from Tech N9ne played as I started walking around and found some of the markings I had made. One of an eye, within the walls of a heart, I remembered this sigil: It was something I had marked to remember how I had gotten here. I got broken-hearted by someone who said they would be with me to the end, only to stab me in the back and leave me behind, villains aren't born; They're made, and all I wanted at that very moment before I hung myself was vengeance upon the one who pushed me. I continued walking around, following the walls that hung on one side of the void, the separation between expectations and

My heart felt like it was being torn apart. This was the man who used to run across the entire city to find inspiration for me whenever I felt creatively blocked. Now, he destroyed my eyes and hands that I had used to create my art. "I'll give your family five million dollars. Think of it as buying your life." Vincent squatted before me, mischief dancing in his eyes as he added, "If you serve Cami well enough, I might consider not killing you." I struggled to lift what was left of my mangled arm, trying to remove the hood for him to see and save me, but…

“And don’t break yourself.” Seojun shrugged off the warning like an old coat worn, functional, accepted. “I’ll break things that deserve it.” His grin returned, the kind that said he’d been waiting for a target worth the effort. They turned away together, boots scuffing the gravel, two fighters walking back toward different shadows. The city beyond the park hummed on, oblivious, but both of them carried something new back with them: a quiet agreement that whatever storms were coming, they would meet them not as strangers, but as linked pieces of the same unfinished story.

But just then, a tearing pain ripped through my chest. "Argh!" A violent cough ripped through me, and blood sprayed from my lips. My knees gave out. I crashed to the floor as a phantom hand plunged into my chest and tore my soul in half. This feeling... The mate bond... it's breaking! "No! Evelyn!" I screamed at the sky. "Impossible!" The pain grew more intense. I could feel the invisible thread connecting our souls snapping, inch by inch. Every break was like another slice into my heart. "Austen!" Seraphina knelt beside me in terror. "What's wrong?"

The car carrying Ava and Maverick pulled away from the mansion, the atmosphere far calmer than it had been just half an hour earlier. The city streets were beginning to fill with people on their way to work. Through the window, Ava watched the rows of buildings pass by one after another, though her thoughts occasionally drifted back to what had happened in front of the mansion. The marks on her wrist no longer hurt much thanks to the ointment Maverick had applied, but the image of Jackson's face, filled with anger, still surfaced in her mind from time to time.

I'll keep every promise I made. Then he closed the door. And the breakup I'd been about to say died in my throat. When I woke up the next morning, Joshua was already gone. For the first time, I opened the door to the room I'd never been allowed to enter. A sketchbook sat on the desk. I flipped it open. The first drawing was of a woman with her clothes half off. Gwen. The sketch wasn't even finished. I remembered begging Joshua to draw me once. He'd refused.

The sun over Lagos burned without mercy, turning every metal roof into a sheet of fire. At the bus stop, the air quivered with exhaust fumes, impatient honks, and voices raised in the daily battle of survival. Promise stood apart from the crowd, clutching her bag tightly against her body. Her red heels pressed into the cracked pavement, the straps biting her ankles, but her chin stayed level. The words she had written the night before pulsed through her veins: Broken shoes, unbroken steps.

I think I am broken. -----------