Imagine Me (Shatter Me, #6)

by Tahereh Mafi

Aaron pulls me close and I melt into him, grateful for his warmth, for the steadiness of his arms around me. I take a deep, shuddering breath and let it all go, exhaling against him. I inhale the rich, heady scent of his skin, the faint aroma of gardenias he somehow carries with him always. Seconds pass in perfect silence and we listen to each other breathe.

Slowly, my heart rate steadies. The tears dry up. The fears take five. Terror is distracted by a passing butterfly and sadness takes a nap.

My bones against his bones. This is my home.

“It’s hard to describe. It’s a pleasure so close to pain I sometimes can’t tell the two apart.” “That sounds awful.” “No,” he says. “It’s exquisite.” “I love you.”

It’s lucky that we’re here right now, because if I’d been in bed where I should’ve been, I wouldn’t have even known J was in trouble. I would’ve missed the tremble in my friend’s voice as she cried out, begging for mercy. I would’ve missed the shattering colors of a twisted sunrise, a peacock in the middle of hell.

I have eyes, two, feel them, rolling back and forth, around and around in my skull I have lips, two, feel them, wet and and heavy, pry them open have teeth, many, tongue, one and fingers, ten, count them onetwothreefourfive, again on the other side strange, ssstrange to have a tongue, sstrange it’s a sssstrange ssort of thing, a strange ssssssssssortofthing loneliness it creeps up on you quiet and still, sits by your side in the dark, strokes your hair as you sleep wrapssitself around your bones squeezing sotightyoualmostcan’t breathe almost can’t hear the pulse racing in your blood as it rush, rushes up your skin touches its lips to the soft hairs at the back of your neck loneliness is a strangesortof thinga sstrangesortofthing an old friend standing beside you in the mirror screaming you’re notenoughneverenough never ever enough sssssometimes it just won’t let go

the pain I carry, the fears I should’ve left behind. I sag under the weight of loneliness, the chains of disappointment. My heart alone weighs a thousand pounds. I’m so heavy I can no longer be lifted away from the earth. I’m so heavy I have no choice now but to be buried beneath it. I’m so heavy, too heavy

His lips are at my ear whispering, whispering

Come back to life, love I’ll be here when you wake up

That’s all I ever was, I realize. A spare part kept in captivity. A backup weapon in the case that all else failed. Shatter me. Break glass in case of emergency.

I’d finally walked away from my own pessimism, and the moment I did, life stuck a knife in my back.

It’s easy, during those moments, to throw in the towel. To shrug off humanity. To tell yourself that you tried to be happy, and look what happened: more pain. Worse pain. Betrayed by the world. You realize then that anger is safer than kindness, that isolation is safer than community. You shut everything out. Everyone. But some days, no matter what you do, the pain gets so bad you’d bury yourself alive just to make it stop. I would know. I’ve been there.

I let out a panicked gasp of breath. “Uh, bro—not to, um, freak you out or anything, but there are, like, three scorpions headed straight toward y—”

freak out. “Will someone tell me what the hell is going on? What’s happening? Are we being shot out of the sky right now?” I spin around, taking in the flashing lights, the steady beep echoing through the cabin. “Fucking déjà vu! I knew it!”

“Hey,” Nazeera says, her voice suddenly close. “I have a feeling I’m about four months away from falling madly in love with you, so please don’t get yourself killed, okay?”

“Come back to me, love. Come back.” I’m still struggling to breathe, desperately searching his eyes for answers. Explanations. “Where?” “Here,” he whispers, pressing my hands to his heart. “Home.”