She wanted to scream her grief to the skies and wail like an animal, but she couldn't.
Jennifer DonnellyThere is a ghost here. A lonely, heartbroken spirit. The ghost of everything that could've been and never was.
Jennifer DonnellyHe had known the rarest of things -love, real love - he'd held it in his hand and he'd thrown it away. What was left for him? A lifetime of second-bests
Jennifer DonnellyWho needs make-believe monsters when there are so many real ones.
Jennifer DonnellyBecause I don't care anymore, Ms. Beezemeyer, I want to say. Not about Amade Malherbeau, my classes, college or much of anything. Because the gray world I've managed to live in for the past two years has started to turn black around the edges.
Jennifer DonnellyI am. No doubt about it. I like humiliating Cooper. I like causing him pain. It feels good. It feels better than his dad's whiskey, better than his mom's weed. Because for just a few seconds, someone else hurts, too. For just a few seconds, I'm not alone.
Jennifer DonnellyI take a seat high above the BQE, stare at Manhatten for a bit, and then I play. For hours. I play until my fingertips are raw. Until I rip a nail and bleed on the strings. Until my hands hurt so bad I forget my heart does.
Jennifer DonnellyJimmy let's out a whistle.
"What?"
"Your hand."
I look at it. My ripped nail is still bleeding. I wipe the red off on my pants.
"You should get it taken care of. It looks awful" he says.
"I guess it does."
"You must be in pain, kid. Does it hurt?"
I nod. "Yeah, Jimmy. All the time.
« first previous
Page 17 of 17.
Data privacy
Imprint
Contact
Diese Website verwendet Cookies, um Ihnen die bestmögliche Funktionalität bieten zu können.