Unbroken Brain Novels & Stories

Drew paused, his eyes reflecting the gravity of the situation. Natalie’s face tightened. “What happens when the crack expands?” she asked, her voice a whisper. “It shatters,” Rick replied grimly. "Come again?" Natalie turned to him, her expression dangerously serious. “Yes, it shatters, and by then, it will be too late,” Drew interjected. “What the hell are you talking about, Uncle?" she slammed him. "The brain is something we use daily. If Sophie doesn’t use her brain, how is she going to survive?”

Catherine interrupted her even though she was actually at her wits’ end. Shaun’s brain was not injured. In fact, he was just like a computer whose programs were jumbled up, thus contributing to his intellectual disability. Chester said he would do his best to cure Shaun, but Catherine knew the chances of success were very slim. If it was so easy to cure the illness, Shaun might have recovered those jumbled memories a long time ago.

"Let them feel what it's like to be 'Broken'!" Avery realized that the "Amethyst-Children" were the true danger—not because they were evil, but because they were "Unconscious-Amplifiers." They were reflecting Juna’s "Hate" and Kael’s "Judgement" back and forth in a "Toxicity-Loop" that would eventually burn out every brain in the sector.

Days were flying by smoothly and everything returned back to normal—no more murders, and nol more threats. I stopped having nightmares about that night and my paranoia slowly faded away, too. Whereas for Noel and I, we've eventually become great friends over the past few months. Noel was really smart, but more than that, he was weird. I had seen him texting people with his phone upside down. He's too lazy to even switch on the lights in his room. I'd yelled at him several times when I saw the lights off as soon as I got home.

It sets you free. She prayed she and Beau and her siblings and friends stayed happy and loving in their relationships. They had been through a lot together. They broke each other yes, but they fixed those cracks with gold and it was beautiful. There was wonder in destructionand they had each other to get through the rubble of brokenness. *BREAKING YOU* *ThE end*

The nerve of this woman, she did not think she needed to report, where does she think she is? “You do not have to report anything but since we are mates and all that. It is considerate to tell me your whereabouts because when something happens to you, I feel it and it is not a nice feeling being woken up in the middle of the night just because someone decided it was a good idea to go for a run without telling anyone. What if you were injured or attacked by rogues?” she is pissing me off!

Sam stretched as she woke the next morning. She felt more rested and relaxed than she had in a long time despite a raging headache assaulting her. Sam slowly opened one eye but closed it quickly as the rays of sunlight were like knives stabbing into her brain. She groaned quietly burying her head in her pillow when a hand that wasn’t hers brushed her thigh.

"Listen to me. Really listen. You are not weapon. You are not mistake. You are not wrong. You are extraordinary. Different. Special. And yes, that makes things hard. Makes fitting in impossible. Makes normal life—difficult. But that does not make you wrong. That makes you rare. That makes you—priceless." "I do not feel priceless. I feel broken." "Broken is how we feel before we heal. Broken is temporary. Broken is—human. Everyone feels broken sometimes. Even normal people. Especially normal people. You think Marco does not feel broken? You think Sophie does not have nights where she cries and feels wrong? Everyone does. Everyone hurts. Everyone struggles. You are not alone in that. You are j

Probably why Dad took to using buckets of ice water from across the room before we had alarms. Better that than risking loss of limb before I’m fully conscious and capable of recognizing friend from foe. Though it could be argued that anything pulling me from the only break my brain gets is an enemy. At least in that moment I’m “revived” from sleep. The only place I don’t have to think. To process. To be assaulted by the relentless barrage of input my brain absorbs like a starved leech. That’s the “genius” part. I don’t even register half the shit I take in. It just wedges itself somewhere in the attic of my skull, quietly collecting until something snaps.

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.