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

Chapter Eleven
I’m so prepared for unimaginable horror that the reality is
almost worse.
Dirty money is dripping from the walls, a year’s supply of
food wasted on marble floors, hundreds of thousands of
dollars in medical aid poured into fancy furniture and
Persian rugs. I feel the artificial heat pouring in through air
vents and think of children screaming for clean water. I
squint through crystal chandeliers and hear mothers
begging for mercy. I see a superficial world existing in the
midst of a terrorizing reality and I can’t move.
I can’t breathe.
So many people must’ve died to sustain this luxury. So
many people had to lose their homes and their children and
their last 5 dollars in the bank for promises promises
promises so many promises to save them from themselves.
They promised us—The Reestablishment promised us hope
for a better future. They said they would fix things, they said
they would help us get back to the world we knew—the
world with movie dates and spring weddings and baby
showers. They said they would give us back our homes, our
health, our sustainable future.
But they stole everything.
They took everything. My life. My future. My sanity. My
freedom.
They filled our world with weapons aimed at our foreheads
and smiled as they shot 16 candles right through our future.
They killed those strong enough to fight back and locked up
the freaks who failed to live up to their utopian
expectations. People like me.
Here is proof of their corruption.