She Broke A Little Bit Today

(this is an excerpt from a book I am writing. It is a paranormal romance set in a pre-dystopian world. Charlie is a character that was taken by a future tech company and experimented on with DNA infused tech. It's about her mental state upon returning after getting free.)

Charlie's fingers hovered over the phone screen, thumb hesitating mid-type, words flickered in her mind – half - thoughts, half-jokes, and none of them right. Bruises spilling like ink, blooming low on her ribs, tucked where fabric could hide them but not the ache when she breathed too deep.

She wondered down the hallway, unicorn goggles perched sideways on her head like a deranged tiara. Glitter trails behind her like a malfunctioning bread crumb trail from some chaotic, glitch - written fairy tale. The phone screen glared in her hand. Her wolf was uncomfortable, this isn't right but normalcy is something lost.

“Sam I thonk my wlf is typing fir me. I dusnt feel rite… rite? Rote. Rutabaga.”

She stared at the mess, blinked twice, then hit send. It was perfect. It was Charlie.

Pretend it's all normal. Glitter up the pain, laugh through the limp, that was the plan.

She spotted the soft glow of light leaking from Thane's cracked office door and crept up. Inside Thane hunched over a screen, jaw clenched, every breath brimming with fire.

“Shit!” He muttered, fingers slamming the keyboard. One key popped free and skittered across the desk.

“These things weren't meant for ancient vampires!” He groaned, shoving the chair back and stalking off toward the kitchen for caffeine.

Charlie's grin bloomed wide and wicked.

Stealth mode: chaos goblin

She slid into the office, quiet as a sugar-fueled ninja. From her hoodie, she pulled a battered pin and a neon pink post-it, already edged with glitter and questionable judgment. She scribbled a masterpiece of nonsense, then smacked it onto the monitor like it was a crown jewel.

“If u can red this ur in my brain. STOP. Typos r intentional. Fibonacci. 1, 1, 2, glitter, siren, chaos. You good? I'm not not. Brain, shooting star, UNICORN! — CHARLIE”

Her retreat was theatrical. She moonwalked, tripped slightly, then vanished down the hall like a rogue breeze full of sugar and static electricity.

Phone out. New message.

“Target glitter - bomb. Situation escalated to post-it warfare. Mission normal Charlie mode active. How's your end?”

Buzz

Sam: “U left glitter on my pillow again my wolf is sneezing so I'm sneezing again. Please don't crash. Or combust.”

Charlie snorted. That was basically “I love you in twin speak”

She was about to type back, define combust, when Theo's voice drifted into the hallway.

“Did he scream at you again?”

She froze.

“Yup” Jaxon answered, chewing something that sounded suspiciously illegal. “Sounded like a dad who just found out someone microwaved a fork.”

They stopped near the office doorway just as Thane reentered, holding a Post-It like it like it might detonate.

“This was stuck to my monitor,” he dead panned. “While I was reviewing classified breach footage. Glitter. In my command center!”

Theo leaned in. “Huh.. is that, banana scented?”

Jaxon nodded. “Could have been worse she could have rung the Deeds bell again.”

From around the corner came Charlie's chirp.

“I didn't”

“Yet.” Theo added dryly.

Thane groaned, and then yelled, teeth clinched. “If one more magical post-it lands on my tech, I'm switching to stone tablets.”

Wasn't like Thane didn't yell at her daily.

Charlie popped out with a shit-eating grin.

“Too late. The glitters already uploaded to the cloud.”

Laughter echoed. It was chaos. It was charlie.

But Sam, who'd been searching for her sister, had already seen it. That tiny fracture. The twitch at the corner of her sister's mouth. The tears she didn't let fall.

Sam stepped in quietly while the others bantered.

Charlie's smile didn't reach her eyes.

Sam caught her gaze. No words, just a tilt of her head.---- you okay?

Charlie shook her head. It was tiny. Barely there.

Jaxon and Theo kept on with their snark. Thane grumbled something about goblins and keyboards. But Sam saw what they didn't. She slipped beside Charlie, arm around her shoulders, and twisted them both away before anyone noticed the shine in Charlie's eyes.

They walked slowly.

Charlie's body trembled with every step. Her smile stayed—but cracked. Her breath hitched, lips wobbled.

She wasn't ready to scream. Not yet. But the ugly cry?

Yeah.

It was coming.

Sam didn't say anything at first. She walked beside her sister in silence, waiting, watching.

Then, softly. “Hey.. what happened back there?”

Charlie flinched like the words had weight. Her fingers twisted the cuff of her hoodie, and she didn't meet Sam's eyes.

“Samantha,” she started, then winced the moment the name left her mouth.

Sam froze. Her brows knit, jaw tightening. “Okay, no. You never call me that unless you're, either trying to get my attention—or something's really wrong. So which is it? No what's wrong?”

Charlie looked up caught red-handed in a lie she hadn't even told yet. Her voice was paper thin. ”Oh God, I'm…I'm sorry Sam.”

“Nope,” Sam said, stepping in front of her. "that's not nothing. You don't apologize. Not like that. You prank Thane and glitter bomb his office, and you don't flinch, you own it.”

Charlie tried to brush past her. “It's nothing really.”

Sam blocked her again, firmer this time. “It's something. And I think you know what that is. You've been through hell Char. You just want to feel..”

“Normal.” Charlie snapped, louder than she meant to. “I just want to be me again. Chaos goblin. Just…be. Why is that too much to ask? Why can't I go back to who I was?”

Her voice cracked.

Sam's step closer, didn't push. “Because who you were.. doesn't exist anymore.”

That did it.

Charlie's eyes welled up, and she turned away, chest hitching with the breath she tried to swallow. The hallway blurred, walls were closing in.

Sam didn't say anything more. Just reached out, wrapped her arms around her twin, and pulled her close — guiding her away, away from the laughter, the noise, the world that didn't see the fracture.

Not yet.

But it was coming.

Charlie didn't say anything when they got back to their room. She just toed off her boots, flopped onto her bed, and pulled the unicorn goggles over her eyes like they might hold back the world.

Sam didn't ask.

She didn't need to.

She kicked off her shoes, grabbed the nearest blanket from her own bed, and slid in behind her. Big spoon by default — even if it was only a 3-minute age gap. She wrapped an arm gently around Charlie's waist and resting her forehead between her shoulder blades.

This is what they did. Their sister zen. As Sam used to call it.

Charlie called it grabbing a woosah — a moment of pause before everything cracked wide open.

No more questions, no more poking. Just presence.

Charlie let out a shaky breath.

Then another.

Then another.

Then silence.

Her fingers twitched once against the sheet... and stilled.

Sam waited.

10 minutes passed. Maybe fifteen.

When Charlie's breathing slowed and evened out, Sam gently pulled back. She slipped out of the bed, careful not to wake her, and tugged the blanket around her shoulders.

The goggles had fallen sideways.

Sam smiled faintly, reaching to adjust them with reverence, as if fixing a crown.

She grabbed her phone off the dresser, padded to the doorway, and leaned against the frame in the dim light of the hallway.

A single message.

Sam:

She broke a little today. Didn't say much, but it hit. Thane yelled, nothing unusual there. She pretended it was fine. It wasn't. She's asleep now. Don't bring it up unless she does first.

The screen stayed lit for a long time after she hit send.

She never got a reply.

She didn't need one.

Tripp already knew.

Tripp sat up slow, with the low tone of the message still buzzing.

“God. I hate ringing phones,” he muttered, rubbing the sleep from his eyes like it offended him.

He squinted at the screen, thumbs swiping instinctively — and then pause.

Sam's name.

Charlie's name.

He didn't need more than that.

He read the message once. Then again slower. Eyes narrowing slightly at the line.

She broke a little today

His hand drifted to his chin, fingers curling along his jaw, gripping like he could anchor the ache swelling in his chest.

“Shit,” he whispered, mouthing more than saying. “this was bound to happen.”

He sat there a moment, unmoving, staring at nothing. Just…breathing.

The kind of breath a man takes when he knows something's cracked and there's no patch kit in the world that will hold it.

Charlie

His chaos goblin.

The one person who can glitter bomb a council meeting and make it feel like gospel. The one who stole his truck keys and left a sticky note that read, “borrowed your soul, be back by midnight.

The one who hadn't sparkled quite right since she came home after three months. Beaten, bruised, and nanotech infused to her DNA. Wires that weaved in and out from her right shoulder to her fingertips and and access plate on her cheek.

He could feel it now — like a storm stalled just offshore. Close enough the pressure made your bones ache, but not close enough to scream yet.

“She's not ready,” he's murmured, his thumb hovered over his phone like it could magically conjure the right thing to say.

But he didn't type anything.

Didn't call.

Didn't knock on her door.

Because Sam was right. Charlie had to say it first.

Instead, he leaned back on his bed, one arm over his eyes, and whispered to the ceiling.

“Just hold on, darlin’. Just a little longer.”

So he laid there in the dark. All that noise in his chest, and started mentally rewriting everything he planned, rebuilding it from the ground up.

Because when it came to a woman like Charlie, you didn't wing it. You made it mean something.