Novel & Cerita Things That Are Broken

It was 8:30am. "I have to go check on Noel.." I mumbled. I got up from bed and brushed my teeth and headed out of my room. I stopped in my tracks when I noticed Hazel sleeping peacefully on the couch in the living room with a book in her hand. "Did she fall asleep while reading?" I smiled and walked towards her. On my way, I ended up bumping into the marble vase on the table beside her and it shattered on the floor with a loud clank. Surprised by the loud noise, Hazel woke up and stared at me, and then at the floor where the broken pieces laid.

I blurted. He laughed bitterly. “Why is that, right? Do whatever it takes, Hernandez. She ran after you so many times, it's time for you to break a sweat too.” “You're buying," he pointed to the glasses and left. I stood there drinking and remembering the night everything started to go wrong. The night I broke Sofia's heart for the first time and all the other times I did it again and again over the years. Yeah, maybe I really needed to make things right.

I ask in a cold voice with a straight face trying to hide the fear creeping up my throat threatening to choke me. "I thought I would come say hello to my mate and you really didn't make it easy to get in. Almost like you didn't want me to come in, but that would be ridiculous. I broke a window and climbed through. Those aren't reinforced. You really wanna be careful with that because someone could just break in whenever they want. Luckily this time it was just me." It almost sounds like he is genuinely concerned about it, yet I know better. He is fucking crazy.

It’s becoming the one everyone looks at when things start to crack. And knowing one day, someone will decide breaking you is easier than fixing anything at all.

Axen looked at me without a speck of emotion on his face and said. "I accept. Our bond is broken with the blessing of the Goddess.' Axen tried and failed to hold back another howl. In the end he let loose a loud heart breaking cry that felt like a dagger to my heart, then fell back hitting the hard Chapel floor with a thud.

In his time as a True Crime writer, Byron had interviewed many people, many of them disturbed or troubled in some way. In these interviews, he would often run up against what he called The Breakdown, to the point where, due to the pressures of telling him their story a person would hit an unknown well of feelings and just… shut down, usually in a maelstrom of tears. They always recovered but it was at a point that Byron always hated, even dreaded.

My Grandma died some few years ago but not after telling me everything I have to know, not after leaving a great burden on my shoulders. It was after her death that I decided to relocate. Thea tried all her best to let me stay but I told her I had to leave for my own good. I know that it is bad and very coward of me to always relocate when I am betrayed. I know I should learn to face my demons but what can a broken person really do? What good can ever come out of a broken Pieces of heart? Thea even insisted to follow me here too but I immediately turned her down and explained things clearly to her and she eventually understood.

When things got broken, we fix it, when a torn paper we buy a new one, when it already cannot be used, we replace it, we can all do something for everything, all our mess can always do something about it, but in reality, in people's lives, not all broken can be repaired over a night, especially if it is a broken soul...a damage heart and mind.

CHAPTER 64: BREAKING DOWN. VIKTOR. I never knew what shattered glass feel like. Honestly no one knows. How hurtful it is. How painful it is. Or how sharp and dangerous it is. I have always broken many things in my life and in my house. Many. I have broken my television when I was angry. I have broken my phone when I am messed up. I have broken glass table, glasses and cups and bottles and much more. Partially everything a house contains.

“I had three children looking at me. Waiting for me to be strong.” He set his cup down on the table carefully. “I know I hurt you.” I turned back to face him. “Do you?” I asked. He swallowed. “Yes.” I walked closer again, stopping just a few steps away from him. “My heart was broken,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “Not cracked. Not slightly damaged. Broken.” His jaw tightened. “Can you tell me something?” I continued. He nodded slowly. “If a glass breaks… if it shatters into pieces… can you put it back together and make it look the same again?”