SUNDERED—a chapter of Sundered and Reforged

Lyia Meta - My Ink Bleeds
Oct 3
2 min read

The glass shattered before she even knew she had dropped it.

Not just the glass — the moment, the day, the illusion she’d been carrying like a fragile heirloom.

She stood barefoot among the shards, the cold floor pressing up through her soles, each fragment glinting like a truth she’d been avoiding.

For the first time in years, there was nothing between her and the reality she’d been keeping at bay.

She didn’t cry. Not yet. She only stared at the jagged edges, wondering how something so sharp could also be so beautiful. There was a terrible honesty in the way the pieces lay — not arranged, not performing, just existing as they were.

The room felt heavier without the illusion. She could hear the hum of the refrigerator, the faint ticking of the clock, and somewhere far away, the echo of laughter she’d once thought would never end.

And then — faint, uncertain — a song began to form. Not a melody she recognized, but something low, raw, and unpolished. It rose from the silence like a memory that had been waiting for this exact moment to be heard.

It was the first note of a journey she hadn’t chosen, but would have to take. A road that began here, at the breaking point, with bare feet on a cold floor and a thousand pieces glittering like stars around her.

©️Lyia Meta