Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

But he’s not so different, either. He still has the most
unusually blue eyes I’ve ever seen. Dark and deep and
drenched in passion. 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 should have known it was him when he showed up in my
cell.
A part of me did. But I’d tried so hard to repress the
memories of my past that I refused to believe it could be
possible. Because a part of me didn’t want to remember. A
part of me was too scared to hope. A part of me didn’t know
if it would make any difference to know that it was him,
after all.
I often wonder what I must look like.
I wonder if I’m just a punctured shadow of the person I was
before. I haven’t looked in the mirror in 3 years. I’m so
scared of what I’ll see.
Someone knocks on the door.
I’m catapulted across the room by my own fear. Adam
locks eyes with me before opening the door and I decide to
retreat into a far corner of the room.
I sharpen my ears only to hear muted voices, hushed
tones, and someone clearing his throat. I’m not sure what to
do.
“I’ll be down in a minute,” Adam says a little loudly. I
realize he’s trying to end the conversation.
“C’mon, man, I just wanna see her—”
“She’s not a goddamn spectacle, Kenji. Get the hell out of
here.”
“Wait—just tell me: Does she light shit on fire with her
eyes?” Kenji laughs and I cringe, slumping to the floor
behind the bed. I curl into myself and try not to hear the
rest of the conversation.
I fail.