A breath of steam trickles out, filled with the sobs of a grown woman breaking into girl-sized pieces.
She offered herself to the big, bad wolf and didn’t scream when he took the first bite.
I am learning how to be angry and sad and lonely and joyful and excited and afraid and happy.
Who wants to recover? It took me years to get that tiny. I wasn’t sick; I was strong.
We swore sacred oaths to be strong and to save the planet and to be friends forever.
No, I am never setting foot in this house again it scares me and makes me sad and I wish you could be a mom whose eyes worked but I don’t think you can.
Eating was hard. Breathing was hard. Living was hardest.
You’re not dead, but you’re not alive, either. You’re a wintergirl, Lia-Lia, caught in between the worlds. You’re a ghost with a beat- ing heart. Soon you’ll cross the border and be with me. I’m so stoked. I miss you wicked.
Death is funny, when you think about it. Everybody does it, but nobody knows how, exactly how.
The stars whirled above us and the firecrackers blazed. The moon stood watch as drops of blood fell, careless seeds that sizzled in the snow.
I’m the girl who trips on the dance floor and can’t find her way to the exit. All eyes on me.
For one moment we are not failed tests and broken condoms and cheating on essays; we are crayons and lunch boxes and swinging so high our sneakers punch holes in the clouds.
I am a gluttonous, gorging failure. A waste. My body isn’t used to high-sugar carbs laced with witchcraft. It can barely cope with soup and crackers.
I believe that you’ve created a metaphorical universe in which you can express your darkest fears. In one aspect, yes, I believe in ghosts, but we create them. We haunt ourselves, and sometimes we do such a good job, we lose track of reality.
I make it through the first two weeks of school without a nuclear meltdown.
I am getting better at smiling when people expect it.
Nicole can do anything that involves a ball and whistle.
Homework is not an option. My bed is sending out serious nap rays. I can’t help myself. The fluffy pillows and warm comforter are more powerful than I am. I have no choice but to snuggle under the covers.
I just thought of a great theory that explains everything. When I went to that party, I was abducted by aliens. They have created a fake Earth and fake high school to study me and my reactions. This certainly explains cafeteria food.
Oppressive bastards, think they own the place. I told them that karma’s going to kick their asses...