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

know Warner and his accomplices must be watching me. I
just don’t know why.
There are secrets everywhere.
There are answers nowhere.
Mechanical clinks/cracks/creaks and shifts shake the space
I’m standing in. The ground rumbles to life. The ceiling
trembles with the promise of chaos. Metal spikes are
suddenly everywhere, scattered across the room,
puncturing every surface at all different heights. Every few
seconds they disappear only to reappear with a sudden jolt
of terror, slicing through the air like needles.
I realize I’m standing in a torture chamber.
Static and feedback from speakers older than my dying
heart crackle to life. I’m a racehorse galloping toward a false
finish line, breathing hard for someone else’s gain.
“Are you ready?” Warner’s amplified voice echoes around
the room.
“What am I supposed to be ready for?” I yell into the
empty space, certain that someone can hear me. I’m calm.
I’m calm. I’m calm. I’m petrified.
“We had a deal, remember?” the room responds.
“Wha—”
“I disabled your cameras. Now it’s your turn to hold up
your end of the bargain.”
“I won’t touch you!” I shout, spinning in place, terrified,
horrified, worried I might faint at any moment.
“That’s all right,” he says. “I’m sending in my
replacement.”
The door squeals open and a toddler waddles in wearing
nothing but a diaper. He’s blindfolded and hiccupping sobs,
shuddering in fear.
One pin pops my entire existence into nothing.
“If you don’t save him,” Warner’s words crackle through
the room, “we won’t, either.”
This child.