As Red as Blood

You aren't those words. You aren't the shouts and names. You aren't the awful things spat at you like flavorless gum. You aren't the punches or the bruises they cause. You aren't the blood running from your nose. You aren't under their control. You are not theirs. Inside you is always the part of you that no one can touch. You are you. You are your own and inside you is the universe. You can be whatever you want. You can be anyone. Don't be afraid. You don't have to be afraid anymore.

Do not seek power for revenge. Seek power in order to avoid situations that would make you want revenge.

Once upon a time, there was a girl who was not afraid. The girl ran as people run who do not fear falling. Her small, strong, nimble feet sped over the rocks and stumps. On the soles of her feet, she felt the soft moss, the sun-warmed sand, the prickly pine needles, the dewy grass. She trusted that her legs would carry her wherever she wished to go. The girl laughed as those laugh who have not yet known humiliation. Her laughter started deep in her belly. It filled her chest, gurgled in her throat, and bubbled on her tongue. Finally, it wriggled out of her mouth, shot through the air, and burst into apple blossoms on the trees. Her laughter warmed and brightened all that surrounded her. Often it ended in hiccuping, but that did not matter because the hiccuping only made her laugh all the more. The girl trusted as those trust for whom the earth has never given way, whom no one has ever betrayed. She hung upside down and trusted that she would not fall. Or if she fell, someone would catch her before she hit the ground. Once upon a time, there was a girl who learned fear. Fairy tales do not begin this way. Other, darker stories do.

For so many years, Lumikki had needed to find hiding places because she was afraid. Finding secret nooks and safe havens was a lifeline. These days, it wasn’t so much about fear as a desire to find some room just for her in a place that was shared by everyone.

Yeah. I'm the secret love child of Hercule Poirot and Lisbeth Salander.

For her a day of pampering meant comic books, black liquorice, serious exercise, veggie curry and, above all, solitude.

Lumikki didn't bother saying that she was more likely to get bored being around other people, listening to their pointless small talk. Better off alone than in bad company. When she was alone, she could be completely herself. Free. No one demanding anything. No one talking when she wanted silence.

You aren’t those words. You aren’t the shouts and names. You aren’t the awful things spat at you like flavorless gum. You aren’t the punches or the bruises they cause. You aren’t the blood running from your nose. You aren’t under their control. You are not theirs. Inside you is always the part of you that no one can touch. You are you. You are your own and inside you is the universe. You can be whatever you want. You can be anyone. Don’t be afraid. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.

A noose around the neck was still a noose even if it was encrusted with diamonds.

Never give people options, just give them simple directives. Don’t beg or demand, just tell them how things are.

She was the puzzle piece that didn’t have its own place, but could suddenly fill in almost any hole you needed it to.

The easiest way to get along in life is to meddle as little as possible.

No calls, no emails, no Facebook messages, no letters, no Morse code with a flashlight during the dark hours of the night, no smoke signals blown with steaming breath on a chilly autumn night, no burning thoughts so intense that they could penetrate fog and walls and doors. Nothing. Complete silence. It was as if the whole person had disappeared from the face of the earth. Or, at least, disappeared from Lumikki's life in one swift stroke. Just as unexpectedly and presumptuously as they'd come.

No criticava les colles. Tan sols havia decidit que no acceptaria que la classifiquessin en cap categoria ni grup de referència que servís perquè els altres fessin pressuposicions sobre ella. Era la que sempre menjava sola, però mai no semblava sola. Era com una peça d'un altre trencaclosques, sense lloc, però que sorprenentment podia encaixar gairebé en qualsevol espai.

Ik ben niet meer ik. Dat had ze toen gedacht. Het was waar. Ze was iemand anders geworden, een ander meisje. Er was eens een meisje dat leerde bang te zijn.

O jee, onze geweldige geheim agent is dus verdomme ook nog een of andere computernerd,' zei Tuukka honend. 'Ja. Ik ben de geheime dochter van Hercule Poirot en Lisbeth Salander,' zei Lumikki zonder een spier te verrekken.

Toen Lumikki in de hal twee paar bekende schoenen zag staan, wilde ze zich al bijna omdraaien en teruggaan. Het ene paar van maat eenenveertig en het andere van drieënveertig. Ze kon zich niet herinneren dat ze had toegezegd mee te doen aan een of andere vergadering met Kwik, Kwek en Kwak.

her, but she didn’t care. She went out on the balcony and looked down into the yard.