Breathless

I'm not mean, I'm honest. Nobody is ever straightforward. But sometimes people need to hear the truth.

You know, I believe that people need to find what they love to do most in the world, what they're best at, and then they need to use that ability to make the world better.

Just like every other year, there's a kind of death in the air as the summer is squelched by autumn. It is a lonely feeling.

But I know he'll call, no matter what shape he's in. Even when I hate him, I love him. Even when he stops calling, I hear his voice. Will is my only brother. Without each other - without the invisible thread that binds us together, no matter how weak or frayed it becomes - we are simply drifting, all alone, without anything like a compass to know where we're headed.

Somehow she always seems blurred, as though to focus on anything that exists beyond a canvas might prove too difficult for her tiny frame to handle. When I was a very little girl, whenever she made me angry, I would imagine a strong wind simply blowing her away.

Ad astra per aspera- From the mud to the stars

I remember my brother as such a gentle and loving child, the best big brother a girl could hope for, but I remember when I started to sense our family's world tilting on its axis, the kaleidoscope turning, when things started to go wrong. From then on, it was like we were still ourselves, but our lives played out as though reflected back to us from a funhouse mirror.

I guess everybody deserves to have their own secrets, if they really want them that badly.

My father is an apparition, and my mother is semiconscious.

I know I shouldn't let him, but it all feels so good, so exciting, that I keep telling myself I'm not doing anything all that wrong.

We all know about Katie’s dead

It had started snowing, a thick wet layer of slush that won't stick. There are no cars on the road, nothing but big white flakes falling onto our faces, erasing the buildings around us, and the low swish of our feet on the road as we try to keep our footing, a soft wheeze humming from the bottom of my lungs from too much smoking. In the middle of Nation Road, Mazzie turns to me without any warning. She grabs my arm and we both fall down, and then we're sitting there in the middle of the bare road, and for a few seconds we just sit there, quite, listening to the eerie silent noise of snow falling against land. Snow covers Mazzie's eyelashes, making her look like a tiny ice princess– the closest she will ever come to wearing makeup. "You look pretty," I say. "Shut up.