Destroy Me (Shatter Me, #1.5)

by Tahereh Mafi

“Why?” I reach for a slice of bread. “I am perfectly capable of keeping my eyes open. Only an idiot would rely on the energy of a bean or a leaf to stay awake throughout the day.”

His thoughts are so empty, so mindless; it’s like conversing with a desk lamp.

And I felt it then: this strange, inexplicable sense that she might be the only person in the world I could really care about.

Most days I feel just as caged as these civilians; and that’s likely why I always come here. It’s like running from one prison to another; an existence wherein there is no relief, no refuge. Where even my own mind is a traitor.

Because the truth is, I am nothing but a coward.

I’ve come to believe that the most dangerous man in the world is the one who feels no remorse. The one who never apologizes and therefore seeks no forgiveness. Because in the end it is our emotions that make us weak, not our actions.

There is little I allow anyone to discover about me. There’s even less I’m willing to share about myself. And of the many things I’ve never discussed, this is one of them. I like to take long baths.

I take a deep breath. Take another sip of this coffee. I’m surprised to discover how much I enjoy the bitter taste of it.

I’ve wanted few things in this life. I’ve asked for nothing from no one. And now, all I’m asking for is another chance.

I need nothing but letters to live. Without them I would not exist. Because these words I write down are the only proof I have that I’m still alive.