Things That Are Broken Novels & Stories

He had broken her to the core. To her it was so hard to be mended, when a bottle of wine falls to the floor shattering in to tiny pieces, the glasses can't be put together and even if you managed to collect the wine from there; it will be hard to drink it. She was that glass shattered beyond repair.

"Red, that is funny. Your optimism is cute, but so misplaced. Some things get too broken for repair. You have no idea what it's like to have seen what we've seen. To have endured. And, for some, live with the physical results daily." "You might have suffered a fall and cracked like Humpty Dumpty, but you can glue some parts back together and go on." "Did you just compare me to an egg?" "She did," Ben snickered. "It might not have been my best analogy, but the meaning is unchanged. You're broken, but that doesn't mean you can't pull the undamaged parts of yourself together and live a full life."

"What do you gain?" "Nothing. Everything." I moved to the window beside her. "I've been where you are. Broken. Controlled. Used as a weapon. Someone helped me. Now I help others. That's how it works." "What if we can't be fixed? What if we're too broken?" "Then we learn to live broken. Find strength in the cracks. Build something new from the pieces." I met her eyes. "You're not alone. None of you are. Not anymore."

I didn't ask for anything that wasn't rightfully mine, but I made damn sure to get everything that was. I glanced at Zachary beside me, he looked completely broken. Anxious. Defeated. Nothing like the confident man I'd married. "Ella, is this really it for us? No second chances?" "That's right. We're done." I studied his face, remembering how nervous he'd been when he first asked me out all those years ago. But I wasn't that starry-eyed girl anymore. A cracked mirror can never reflect a perfect image again. Zachary and I—our story had reached its final page.

Like I was reciting a script I’d been forced to learn. But I said them anyway. Because he’d told me not to break. Because that was the only thing I had left that still felt like mine—whether I followed through or not. My weight shifted, uneven and careful, as I tested my balance. The room swayed slightly, exhaustion pulling at me like chains, but I stayed standing. Barely. Just enough to keep from sinking back down and letting the pain win. “I won’t break,” I repeated, quieter this time, my voice steadier than I felt. “Even if I already feel shattered.”

Part 6 You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching, Love like you'll never be hurt, Sing like there's nobody listening, And live like it's heaven on earth. William W. Purkey Mahi couldn’t remember how long she stood there in the dark after he was gone, thinking about so many things all at once. A few weeks ago her life had been simple, clutter free and so less complicated and now day by day…. Hour by hour she had the feeling that her life was sinking, slipping away from the gaps of her fingers like sands of time and she remained there unable to do anything.

“It’s not good either.” She exhales slowly. “No. It isn’t.” She closes her eyes. “I don’t think I’m supposed to stop things anymore,” I say after a moment. Her body goes very still. “What do you mean baby?” she asks. “I think I’m supposed to help them meet.” Her voice is careful when she asks, “Meet what?” I search for the words. They feel too big for my mouth, but the feeling itself is simple. “Pieces,” I say. “Things that broke, things that were never touched because everyone was scared of what would happen.”

"I see broken things, and I want to fix them. Beautiful broken things especially." "I'm not broken." The laugh that escaped him was genuinely amused, "Of course you are. You're sitting in a stranger's house, wearing clothes you slept in, drinking whiskey you can't afford, because the alternative is sleeping rough and hoping you don't freeze to death before morning." Put like that, my situation did sound fairly desperate. "But broken doesn't mean worthless," he continued. "Sometimes the most interesting people are the ones who've been shattered and rebuilt themselves into something new."

"What? What is it? Is everything okay? Did you find something? Did you get a lead? Did you discover something? Did you find a name?" "Come eat. You need to take a break. You need to rest. You need to sleep. You're going to burn out. You're going to break. You're going to collapse. You're going to fall apart. You're going to shatter. You're going to lose yourself."

I falter as I see the scene waiting for me inside the house. All the furniture is messed up and toppled like there’s a clear struggle that went on. The vases and the frames were all broken. The TV is still on, but it’s broken. And I think I see a small stain of blood on it, like someone’s head got smashed in it.