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

carpet the color of a setting summer sun. It’s warm in this
room. It’s the same size as the one I occupy, its furniture
standard enough: bed, armoire, side tables, chandelier
glittering from the ceiling. The only difference is there’s an
extra door in this room and there’s a candle burning quietly
on a small table in the corner. I haven’t seen fire in so many
years I’ve lost count. I have to stifle an impulse to reach out
and touch the flame.
I prop myself up against the pillows and try to pretend I’m
not comfortable. “Where am I?”
Warner turns around holding a plate with bread and
cheese on it. His other hand is gripping a glass of water. He
looks around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “This
is my bedroom.”
If my head weren’t splitting into pieces I’d be tempted to
run. “Take me to my own room. I don’t want to be here.”
“And yet, here you are.” He sits at the foot of the bed, a
few feet away. Pushes the plate in front of me. “Are you
thirsty?”
I don’t know if it’s because I can’t think straight or if it’s
because I’m genuinely confused, but I’m struggling to
reconcile Warner’s polarizing personalities. Here he is,
offering me a glass of water after he forced me to torture
someone. I lift my hands and study my fingers as if I’ve
never seen them before. “I don’t understand.”
He cocks his head, inspecting me as though I might’ve
seriously injured myself. “I only asked if you were thirsty.
That shouldn’t be difficult to understand.” A pause. “Drink
this.”
I take the glass. Stare at it. Stare at him. Stare at the walls.
I must be insane.
Warner sighs. “I’m not sure, but I think you fainted. And I
think you should probably eat something, though I’m not
entirely sure about that, either.” He pauses. “You’ve
probably had too much exertion your first day here. My
mistake.”