Shatter Me - Tahereh Mafi Page 0,32

Jenkins is dying in my arms and Warner is shooting Adam in the head and the wind is singing outside my window but it’s high-pitched and off-key and I don’t have the heart to tell it to stop.

I’m freezing through my clothes.

The bed under my back is filled with broken clouds and freshly fallen snow; it’s too soft, too comfortable. It reminds me too much of sleeping in Warner’s room and I can’t stand it. I’m afraid to slip under these covers.

I can’t help but wonder if Adam is okay, if he’ll ever come back, if Warner is going to keep hurting him whenever I disobey. I really shouldn’t care so much.

Adam’s message in my notebook might just be a part of Warner’s plan to drive me insane.

I crawl onto the hard floor and check my fist for the crumpled piece of paper I’ve been clutching for 2 days. It’s the only hope I have left and I don’t even know if it’s real.

I’m running out of options.

“What are you doing here?”

I bite down on a scream and stumble up, over, and sideways, nearly slamming into Adam where he’s lying on the floor next to me. I didn’t even see him.

“Juliette?” He doesn’t move an inch. His gaze is fixed on me: calm, unflappable; 2 buckets of river water at midnight.

I’d like to cry into his eyes.

I don’t know why I tell him the truth. “I couldn’t sleep up there.”

He doesn’t ask me why. He pulls himself up and coughs back a grunt and I remember how he’s been hurt. I wonder what kind of pain he’s in. I don’t ask questions as he grabs a pillow and the blanket off my bed. He puts the pillow on the floor. “Lie down,” is all he says to me. Quietly, is how he says it to me.

All day every day forever is when I want him to say it to me.

They’re just 2 words and I don’t know why I’m blushing. I lie down despite the sirens spinning in my blood and rest my head on the pillow. He drapes the blanket over my body. I let him do it. I watch as his arms curve and flex in the shadow of night, the glint of the moon peeking in through the window, illuminating his figure in its glow. He lies down on the floor leaving only a few feet of space between us. He requires no blanket. He uses no pillow. He still sleeps without a shirt on and I’ve discovered I don’t know how to breathe. I’ve realized I’ll probably never exhale in his presence.

“You don’t need to scream anymore,” he whispers.

Every breath in my body escapes me.

I curl my fingers around the possibility of Adam in my hand and sleep more soundly than I have in my life.

My eyes are 2 windows cracked open by the chaos in this world.

A cool breeze startles my skin and I sit up, rub the sleep from my eyes, and realize Adam is no longer beside me. I blink and crawl back up to the bed, where I replace the pillow and the blanket.

I glance at the door and wonder what’s waiting for me on the other side.

I glance at the window and wonder if I’ll ever see a bird fly by.

I glance at the clock on the wall and wonder what it means to be living according to numbers again. I wonder what 6:30 in the morning means in this building.

I decide to wash my face. The idea exhilarates me and I’m a little ashamed.

I open the bathroom door and catch Adam’s reflection in the mirror. His fast hands pull his shirt down before I have a chance to latch on to details but I saw enough to see what I couldn’t see in the darkness.

He’s covered in bruises.

My legs feel broken. I don’t know how to help him. I wish I could help him.

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I didn’t know you were awake.” He tugs on the bottom of his shirt like it’s not long enough to pretend I’m blind.

I nod at nothing at all. I look at the tile under my feet. I don’t know what to say.

“Juliette.” His voice hugs the letters in my name so softly I die 5 times in that second. His face is a forest of emotion. He shakes his head. “I’m sorry,” he says, so quietly I’m certain I imagined it. “It’s not . . .” He clenches his jaw and runs