Things Fall Apart Novels & Stories

"Sam, don't let go! Hold on, I'm going to fall! Ah…! I'm falling! Sam! Catch me!" When I walked in, I finally saw what was happening. Samson was helping Celia learn to ride a bike out in the yard, holding her steady as she wobbled along. In the end, Celia shrieked, fell off the bike, and tumbled right into his arms. "Sam, am I really that stupid? Why can't I get the hang of this after so long?" Samson's voice was gentle. "You'll get it. Just keep practicing." Celia's smile was radiant. "Sam, you're the best!"

Chapter 4 – Mathapelo’s Struggles Mathapelo sat at the edge of her bedroom, the remnants of a half-empty wine bottle beside her. Her hands shook slightly, not from fear, but from a fatigue deeper than sleep could fix. At thirty-six, she had built a life of apparent success: married to Rethabile, with three children, a carefully maintained home, and a reputation for strength and independence. Yet beneath the surface, a storm brewed—a storm fueled by alcohol, stress, and the pressures of maintaining control over a household that often felt ungrateful and chaotic.

"Most of my life has to do with Renee Granger. I was so used to having her around that my first reaction was disbelief when she thoroughly uprooted herself and left me. Perhaps it's not that I don't believe it—it's more like I don't have the courage to believe it. "It was only when I failed to keep the final traces of her existence in this world that reality hit me—I've genuinely lost her. When she was abroad, I missed her desperately… until the day that I mistook Janae for her. Things spiraled out of control from that moment on.

Inside was a faded photo of Natalie, age five, grinning with a missing tooth. She held it out. Natalie didn’t take it. But she looked at it. Really looked. Then she walked back into the shelter, not saying another word. Meekey stood alone in the alley, hands shaking, the cold air slicing through her. She didn’t know what would happen next. But for the first time in fourteen years, it didn’t feel like the end. It felt like a beginning.

“He’s the son of the man who was like a father to me which makes him synonymous to my brother. How can I marry my own—” She puts up a hand, halting my words. “After much heat and pressure, graphite begins to resemble diamond but no matter how much the graphite shines; it can never be diamond. In the same way, because you were sorted out of rags and sewn into the masterpiece you think you are now, that doesn’t mean you should forget your place. “My son took . . .” She pauses, staring at me intently now, “What word should I use? Ah han, pity. My son took pity on you. That does not make you his daughter in any way.”

Jaz POV The Moon Valley Pack is located a few miles from the Pacific Ocean and between two large mountains that separate us from the rest of the world. When you sit on the cliff that is not too far from the pack. You can see the Ocean and then you can look up and see the moon. I came across the cliff when I was 17 while on my nightly run at 11. Ever since Alpha Jax, Bata James, and Sam found me they brought me back to the pack. They gave me 2 weeks to heal and pass every test that the doctors gave to me. Then they began training me to be the best of the best. Fist they wanted to learn everything about me. From where I came from, what happened to me and of course I could tell them anything be

I fell to my knees, my hands catching me as I hung my head down, hair plastered to my forehead. “Is it not enough?” I whispered, voice raw; as I felt tears began to slide from my eyes. They dripped from my face, causing small dark indentations in the packed dirt. My fingers carved a path through it, attempting to grip it as it shifted through my fingers. Trying desperately to cling onto something solid as I felt my damaged soul begin to crack and fragment around my heart.

I pleaded in a shaky voice, my knees suddenly felt weak, so I sat down, not minding that people were passing by and watching me. "Your mom collapsed and when the doctors examined her, they said she was getting worse and she had just a few weeks-" I didn't listen to the rest of what he had to say. I ran down the staircase as my chest tightened. I swallowed the lump in my throat as I kept pushing through the wind, running as fast as my little legs could carry me. Tears kept falling from my eyes but I didn't bother to clean them.

There was regret in his dead grey eyes as he finished that sentence. The man in front of him stood around two inches taller, his hair also dark brown though it was cut shorter on the back and sides but slightly longer on the top. He looked at his brother his ocean blue eyes, bloodshot from sleep deprivation. Another door opened and a woman entered, she had raven black hair braided into a fishtale plait and her blueish-green eyes filled with saddness though she had a look of determination on her face. She was short and skinny, but she had some muscle definition in her arms. "It is done." She stated loud enough for both men to hear. "She is gone." A tear slipped down her cheek as the taller of

Every second felt like a pulse of accusation against me. I didn’t move, as I couldn’t. I sat frozen, my heart pounding, my mind racing with questions I didn’t dare speak aloud. And deep down, a new, terrifying understanding gradually settled in. The snow had not trapped us. He had trapped us. Then a loud question rang deep in me; If he could plan an entire month of my life… of my love… how much of the man I married is real? And how much is just a story he wrote for himself just to feel good?