Imagine Me (Shatter Me #6)(62)

“Jesus.” I drop my head into my hands. I thought I was already living with peak levels of stress, but I was wrong. This stress I’m experiencing now is on a whole new level.

I feel Nazeera’s hand on my back and I look up. Her face looks as uncertain as mine feels, and somehow, it makes me feel better.

“Pack your bags,” Nouria says. “Catch up with Warner. I’ll meet the three of you at the entrance in twenty minutes.”





ELLA

JULIETTE





In the darkness, I imagine light.

I dream of suns, moons, mothers. I see children laughing, crying, I see blood, I smell sugar. Light shatters across the blackness pressing against my eyes, fracturing nothing into something. Nameless shapes expand and spin, crash into each other, dissolving on contact. I see dust. I see dark walls, a small window, I see water, I see words on a page— I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane I am not insane In the pain, I imagine bliss.

My thoughts are like wind, rushing, curling into the depths of myself, expelling, dispelling darkness

I imagine love, I imagine wind, I imagine gold hair and green eyes and whispers, laughter

I imagine

Me





extraordinary, unbroken

the girl who shocked herself by surviving, the girl who loved herself through learning, the girl who respected her skin, understood her worth, found her strength

s t r o n g

s t r o n g e r





strongest





Imagine me

master of my own universe

I am everything I ever dreamed of





KENJI





We’re in the air.

We’ve been in the air for hours now. I spent the first four hours sleeping—I can usually fall asleep anywhere, in any position—and I spent the last two hours eating all the snacks on the plane. We’ve got about an hour left in our flight and I’m so bored I’ve begun poking myself in the eye just to pass the time.

We got off to a good start—Nouria helped us steal a plane, as promised, by shielding our actions with a sheet of light—but now that we’re up here, we’re basically on our own. Nazeera had to fend off a few questions over the radio, but because most of the military has no idea what level of shit has already gone down, she still has the necessary clout to bypass inquiries from nosy sector leaders and soldiers. We realize it’s only a matter of time, though, before someone realizes we don’t have the authority to be up here.

Until then—

I glance around. I’m sitting close enough to the cockpit to be within earshot of Nazeera, but she and I both decided that I should hang back to keep an eye on Warner, who’s sitting just far enough away to keep me safe from his scowl. Honestly, the look on his face is so intense I’m surprised he hasn’t started aging prematurely.

Suffice it to say that he didn’t like Nouria’s game plan.

I mean, I don’t like it, either—and I have no intentions of following through with it—but Warner looked like he might shoot Nouria for even thinking that we might have to kill J. He’s been sitting stiffly in the back of the plane ever since we boarded, and I’ve been wary of approaching him, despite our recent reconciliation. Semi-reconciliation? I’m calling it a reconciliation.

But right now I think he needs space.

Or maybe it’s me, maybe I’m the one who needs space. He’s exhausting to deal with. Without J around, Warner has no soft edges. He never smiles. He rarely looks at people. He’s always irritated.

Right now, I honestly can’t remember why J likes him so much.

In fact, in the last couple of months I’d forgotten what he was like without her around. But this reminder has been more than enough. Too much, in fact. I don’t want any more reminders. I can guarantee that I will never again forget that Warner is not a fun guy to spend time with. That dude carries so much tension in his body it’s practically contagious. So yeah, I’m giving him space.