Here is a sneak peak of UnShatter Me. Enjoy!
The comedy night has started. Whoopie, oh such fun. I do not know why I am subjecting myself to this torture for a second day running. Perhaps this sense of loss inside me is driving me forward, as it longs to be filled, and wants so desperately for me to feel whole again. My aching soul is yearning for progression, change. It wants me to feel human again; breathing, eating, loving, living. It is compelling me to move on, and finally shed the scales of my past. But my head is resistant, and it fights itself in a deadly sea of horror. My brain is slowly sinking, drowning in the yesteryears. I might never recover from that dark period in my life. I am forever tarnished. Forever broken.
As I cautiously approach the food table outside the comedy tent, a place where I can get a well-needed sugar rush, I notice him. Him! That nasty guy from yesterday. What the hell is he doing here? Unexpectedly, our eyes connect. He stares at me, his penetrative eyes pierce straight through me. Interest, rather than hatred is fixed on his face. I shiver, a little unnerved by this guy and his intensity.
Quickly, I turn in the opposite direction and walk briskly towards the field, preparing to escape. A funny feeling grips my stomach all of a sudden. I get the impression that he is following me.
“Let’s start again.” His voice races in my ears.
Annoyed, I spin around. My feet bounce slightly on the grass. “Am I not too English for you today?”
“Sorry about that,” he says, looking down at his feet. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Yes you did,” I answer bitterly, ordering his eyes to look at mine.
“Okay, maybe I did.”
I laugh contemptuously. “So, why are we doing this then?”
“Talking. Is there a point?”
“C’mon,” he says, “be civil.”
“Why should I?”
“I’d like to get to know you, okay?”
“Really?” I scowl.
“Erm, well… I’m not used to talking to… posh girls. But I checked your Facebook profile last night, and you seem different, sweet.”
“So now you are stalking me, great! Exactly what I need right now,” I grunt.
“I am not stalking you.”
“Are you saying that to convince yourself, or me?” Rudely, I kiss my teeth.
His eyes narrow, his face scrunching up in anger. I can tell I am pushing his buttons.
You have just read an excerpt from UnShatter Me. To read the whole novel, buy it directly from Amazon. Click on the sign below to take you to Michelle’s Amazon page.