Shatter Me Reimagined

Shatter Me by Tahareh Mafi is a dystopian, fantasy series i thoroughly enjoyed. Here's is a little story I wrote which has the same plot as the book, but with my own little twist. Let me know if you'd like a part 2!

Trapped. Every person is trapped, either in jail, relationships, money or their own mind. Feyre was trapped in an asylum. Three years ago Feyre killed a man. Three years ago Feyre was abandoned by her parents. Three years ago Feyre was thrown inside this asylum. Three years ago was the last time Feyre breathed fresh air. Three years ago Feyre learned about her disability, her lethal touch.

She was in a supermarket and saw a mother beating her child. As the child wept, Feyre bowed down to reach his height and held his hand in her bare hand, as a gesture of kindness and sympathy. What happened next is a blur. Screams. She heard screams. The child cried as he screamed his lungs out. Next thing she knows, he’s dead.

I had to escape, is what Feyre thought for the hundredth time that day, as she sat down in the cold and dark chamber of the asylum, all alone. “Hey.” She jostled out her deep thought process. “Here’s lunch.” The worker said, as he handed her a tray with black beans, stale lettuce, and a slice of bread, which was as hard as a brick. The worker grinned, and turned his back on her, like he usually did. However, Feyre did something highly unusual. “Help me get out of here, please.” she called after him. He turned back, looked at Feyre skeptically for a moment, and then started laughing. A lump formed in Feyre’s throat. Enraged, before she could control herself, she held the naked wrist of the worker, with her naked hand.

He screamed. Like the child did. Feyre wanted to stop. She wanted to let go of his hand. But she could not get herself to do so. Because deep down, she enjoyed watching him crumple on the other side of the bars. She enjoyed using her power, her gift, her curse after it sat idle for so long. The screaming stopped. He lay still on the floor as Feyre finally let go of his hand. Thud. His hand hit the floor. He was Feyre’s second hunt.

Hours passed, as she mourned the death of this stranger, whom she had killed. Nobody in the asylum was aware of the incident yet. His screams procured no one because screams are a part of the atmosphere of the asylum. Feyre looked over at the dead body and saw something glittering in the uncanny darkness; the keys to her chamber.

After struggling for thirty seven minutes, Feyre was able to get hold of the keys. She unlocked her cell, said goodbye to the place which had been her home for three years and left. She left without looking back at the body. She left without feeling any remorse for her doing. She left her old life behind. As she left her chamber, Feyre did something she hadn’t done in three years; she smiled.

As she passed by the dark halls of the asylum, she was careful to not be seen. Strangled screams of other patients rang in her ear. After walking for what felt like an eternity, she saw it. She finally saw it. Sunlight, peeping through a door.

However, as soon as she saw the sunlight, she saw two bulky men in uniform. Guards. How was she going to pass them? Pity had left her the minute she enjoyed killing the man who fed her with food for the past three years. She decided she would kill and kill again if it meant finding freedom. The first guard saw her and proceeded towards her. She put his palm to his face, and did not let go until he fell down, breathless. The second guard took out his gun and pointed it towards her; however, his unloaded gun didn’t do him any good. He met the same fate as the first guard.

She ran. She ran like there was no tomorrow. “STOP!” yelled an angry man with a heavy, chalky voice. She stopped, and she looked back and was bewildered to find a young man not older than herself. His brown eyes shone like honey in the setting sun. As she examined him from head to toe, he came towards her. As he came nearer, she realized he was in uniform. He was another security guard, which meant he had a gun on him.

“Are you crazy?” she asked “don’t you know who I am?”

“Feyre, I know exactly who you are, the tales of your lethal touch have reached far and wide.” he replied softly.

“Do you wanna meet the same fate as the guards before you did?”

He did not reply. Instead, he smiled and advanced towards her. Perplexed, she held her cursed hand out and held his bare forearm. Nothing happened. He stood perfectly still. He was immune to Feyre’s gift.

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I hope you enjoyed!

Looking forward to your feedback :)

let me know if you'd be interested in reading part 2!