Shatter Me by Tahereh Mafi Read Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tahereh Mafi
my knees and I nearly stumble to the ground. “Get going ,” a voice growls from behind. I look up and realize Adam is already walking away. I’m supposed to be following him.
Only once we’re back in the familiar blindness of the asylum hallways does he stop walking.
“Juliette.” One soft word and my joints are made of air.
I don’t answer him.
“Take my hand,” he says.
“I will never,” I manage between broken bites of oxygen. “Not ever.”
A heavy sigh. I feel him shift in the darkness and soon his body is too close so disarmingly close to mine. His hand is on my lower back and he’s guiding me through the corridors toward an unknown destination. Every inch of my skin is blushing. I have to hold myself upright to keep from falling backward into his arms.
The distance we’re walking is much longer than I expected. When Adam finally speaks I suspect we’re close to the end. “We’re going to go outside,” he says near my ear. I have to ball my fists to control the thrills tripping my heart. I’m almost too distracted by the feel of his voice to understand the significance of what he’s saying. “I just thought you should know.”
An audible intake of breath is my only response. I haven’t been outside in almost a year. I’m painfully excited but I haven’t felt natural light on my skin in so long I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it. I have no choice.
The air hits me first.
Our atmosphere has little to boast of, but after so many months in a concrete corner even the wasted oxygen of our dying Earth tastes like heaven. I can’t inhale fast enough. I fill my lungs with the feeling; I step into the slight breeze and clutch a fistful of wind as it weaves its way through my fingers.
Bliss unlike anything I’ve ever known.
The air is crisp and cool. A refreshing bath of tangible nothing that stings my eyes and snaps at my skin. The sun is high today, blinding as it reflects the small patches of snow keeping the earth frozen. My eyes are pressed down by the weight of the bright light and I can’t see through more than two slits, but the warm rays wash over my body like a jacket fitted to my form, like the hug of something greater than a human. I could stand still in this moment forever. For one infinite second I feel free.
Adam’s touch shocks me back to reality. I nearly jump out of my skin and he catches my waist. I have to beg my bones to stop shaking. “Are you okay?” His eyes surprise me. They’re the same ones I remember, blue and bottomless like the deepest part of the ocean. His hands are gentle so gentle around me.
“I don’t want you to touch me,” I lie.
“You don’t have a choice.” He won’t look at me.
“I always have a choice.”
He runs a hand through his hair and swallows the nothing in his throat. “Follow me.”
We’re in a blank space, an empty acre filled with dead leaves and dying trees taking small sips from melted snow in the soil. The landscape has been ravaged by war and neglect and it’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in so long. The stomping soldiers stop to watch as Adam opens a car door for me.
It’s not a car. It’s a tank.
I stare at the massive metal body and attempt to climb my way up the side when Adam is suddenly behind me. He hoists me up by the waist and I gasp as he settles me into the seat.
Soon we’re driving in silence and I have no idea where we’re headed.
I’m staring out the window at everything.
I’m eating and drinking and absorbing every infinitesimal detail in the debris, in the skyline, in the abandoned homes and broken pieces of metal and glass sprinkled in the scenery. The world looks naked, stripped of vegetation and warmth. There are no street signs, no stop signs; there is no need for either. There is no public transportation. Everyone knows that cars are now manufactured by only one company and sold at a ridiculous rate.
Very few people are allowed a means of escape.
My parents
Only once we’re back in the familiar blindness of the asylum hallways does he stop walking.
“Juliette.” One soft word and my joints are made of air.
I don’t answer him.
“Take my hand,” he says.
“I will never,” I manage between broken bites of oxygen. “Not ever.”
A heavy sigh. I feel him shift in the darkness and soon his body is too close so disarmingly close to mine. His hand is on my lower back and he’s guiding me through the corridors toward an unknown destination. Every inch of my skin is blushing. I have to hold myself upright to keep from falling backward into his arms.
The distance we’re walking is much longer than I expected. When Adam finally speaks I suspect we’re close to the end. “We’re going to go outside,” he says near my ear. I have to ball my fists to control the thrills tripping my heart. I’m almost too distracted by the feel of his voice to understand the significance of what he’s saying. “I just thought you should know.”
An audible intake of breath is my only response. I haven’t been outside in almost a year. I’m painfully excited but I haven’t felt natural light on my skin in so long I don’t know if I’ll be able to handle it. I have no choice.
The air hits me first.
Our atmosphere has little to boast of, but after so many months in a concrete corner even the wasted oxygen of our dying Earth tastes like heaven. I can’t inhale fast enough. I fill my lungs with the feeling; I step into the slight breeze and clutch a fistful of wind as it weaves its way through my fingers.
Bliss unlike anything I’ve ever known.
The air is crisp and cool. A refreshing bath of tangible nothing that stings my eyes and snaps at my skin. The sun is high today, blinding as it reflects the small patches of snow keeping the earth frozen. My eyes are pressed down by the weight of the bright light and I can’t see through more than two slits, but the warm rays wash over my body like a jacket fitted to my form, like the hug of something greater than a human. I could stand still in this moment forever. For one infinite second I feel free.
Adam’s touch shocks me back to reality. I nearly jump out of my skin and he catches my waist. I have to beg my bones to stop shaking. “Are you okay?” His eyes surprise me. They’re the same ones I remember, blue and bottomless like the deepest part of the ocean. His hands are gentle so gentle around me.
“I don’t want you to touch me,” I lie.
“You don’t have a choice.” He won’t look at me.
“I always have a choice.”
He runs a hand through his hair and swallows the nothing in his throat. “Follow me.”
We’re in a blank space, an empty acre filled with dead leaves and dying trees taking small sips from melted snow in the soil. The landscape has been ravaged by war and neglect and it’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve seen in so long. The stomping soldiers stop to watch as Adam opens a car door for me.
It’s not a car. It’s a tank.
I stare at the massive metal body and attempt to climb my way up the side when Adam is suddenly behind me. He hoists me up by the waist and I gasp as he settles me into the seat.
Soon we’re driving in silence and I have no idea where we’re headed.
I’m staring out the window at everything.
I’m eating and drinking and absorbing every infinitesimal detail in the debris, in the skyline, in the abandoned homes and broken pieces of metal and glass sprinkled in the scenery. The world looks naked, stripped of vegetation and warmth. There are no street signs, no stop signs; there is no need for either. There is no public transportation. Everyone knows that cars are now manufactured by only one company and sold at a ridiculous rate.
Very few people are allowed a means of escape.
My parents