Shatter Me (Shatter Me, #1)

by Tahereh Mafi

I hate the sun, too preoccupied with itself to notice the infinite hours we spend in its presence. The sun is an arrogant thing, always leaving the world behind when it tires of us.

The moon is a loyal companion. It never leaves. It’s always there, watching, steadfast, knowing us in our light and dark moments, changing forever just as we do. Every day it’s a different version of itself. Sometimes weak and wan, sometimes strong and full of light. The moon understands what it means to be human. Uncertain. Alone. Cratered by imperfections.

I don’t want him to end up like me. Empty.

Truth is a jealous, vicious mistress that never ever sleeps, is what I don’t tell him. I’ll never be okay.

I could never forget Adam. But he’s already forgotten me.

Adam is pointing a gun at my chest. Adam is pointing a gun at my chest. Adam is pointing a gun at my chest.

If you stand by my side you will be rewarded.” He presses his lips together. “But if you choose to disobey? Well . . . I think you look rather lovely with all your body parts intact, don’t you?”

People used to want hope. They wanted to think things could get better. They wanted to believe they could go back to worrying about gossip and holiday vacations and going to parties on Saturday nights, so The Reestablishment promised a future too perfect to be possible and society was too desperate to disbelieve. They never realized they were signing away their souls to a group planning on taking advantage of their ignorance. Their fear.

I am a being comprised of letters, a character created by sentences, a figment of imagination formed through fiction.

Hate looks just like everybody else until it smiles. Until it spins around and lies with lips and teeth carved into the semblance of something too passive to punch.

Warner spares him a swift glance and when he looks my way again his eyes have hardened. He holds my gaze for a few infinitely long seconds before he pulls a gun out of his jacket pocket. He fires. The entire room screams to a stop. I turn my head very, very slowly to follow the direction of Warner’s gun only to see he’s shot some kind of meat right through the bone. The platter of food is slightly steaming across the room, the meal heaped less than a foot away from the guests. He shot it without even looking. He could’ve killed someone.

“I like my clothes,” I tell him. I’d like to punch you in the eye, is what I don’t tell him. Warner’s smile slides back into place. “No one asked what you like, love. Now eat. I need you to look your best when you stand beside me.”

“You and I, Juliette—together? We could be unstoppable.”

he’s trying to wipe away my tears and I want to murder him.

“Liar.” He seems to consider that. Nods, just once. “Yes. Most of the time, yes.”

“Life is a bleak place,” he whispers. “Sometimes you have to learn how to shoot first.”

I could almost say he hates me in this moment. Hates me for hating myself.

His smile is laced with dynamite. “Go to sleep.” “Go to hell.” He works his jaw. Walks to the door. “I’m working on it.”

My body is a carnivorous flower, a poisonous houseplant,

Hope is hugging me, holding me in its arms, wiping away my tears and telling me that today and tomorrow and two days from now I will be just fine and I’m so delirious I actually dare to believe it.

Warner does nothing without reason. He must know Adam and I have a history. He is more cruel and calculative than I gave him credit for.

I’m not even human anymore. I’m so much more. The sun and the moon have merged and the earth is upside down. I feel like I can be exactly who I want to be in his arms. He makes me forget the terror I’m capable of.

I always wondered what it’d be like to see the world through such a beautiful lens. I wondered if your eye color meant you saw the world differently. If the world saw you differently as a result.

I remind myself that Warner is a liar. A crazed lunatic. A psychotic murderer. He would never try to help me.

“Laughter comes from living.” I shrug, try to sound indifferent. “I’ve never really been alive before.”

“How old are you?” “I’ll be eleven next year.” I grin. “So you’re ten years old?” He crosses his arms. Frowns. “I’ll be twelve in two years.”

I’m staring at him staring at James.

Warner would’ve shot down the door, used explosives, killed a hundred people to get to me. He certainly wouldn’t wait for me to open the door.

Kenji slams open the door. “You do realize this wall is made of glass, don’t you?” He looks like he’s bitten the head off a worm. “No one wants to see that.”

I’ve developed a reputation as a cold, unfeeling monster who fears nothing and cares for less. But this is all very deceiving. Because the truth is, I am nothing but a coward.

Everything is quiet, abandoned. Just as I like it.

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.

People seldom realize that they tell lies with their lips and truths with their eyes all the time.

I could live here, I think. Live where gravity does not know my name. Here I am unbound, untethered by the chains of this life. I am a different body, a different shell, and my weight is carried by the hands of friends. So many nights I’ve wished I could fall asleep under this sheet.

“This isn’t terrible,” I tell him. His face splits into a smile so wide, so beatific,

I sound like a pathetic, desperate idiot. I am a child all over again, hiding in dark corners and praying he won’t find me. Hoping he’ll be in a good mood today. That maybe everything will be all right. That maybe my mother won’t be screaming this time.

I almost forget that she still hates me, despite how hard I’ve fallen for her.

Love is a heartless bastard. I’m driving myself insane.

Once they’re gone, I’m left to look around and be alone with my thoughts. It’s a dangerous place to be.