Sometimes I think high school is one long hazing activity. If you're tough enough to survive this, they'll let you become an adult. I hope it's worth it.
Sometimes being an adult means doing the right thing, even if it's not what you want.
Stupido corpo. Che senso ha farmi crescere i peli e lasciare invece che i capelli cadano?
THE FIRST TEN LIES THEY TELL YOU IN HIGH SCHOOL1. We are here to help you.2. You will have enough time to get to your class before the bell rings.3. The dress code will be enforced.4. No smoking is al...
That feeling in your stomach when you hear him whispering off-key, down the hall. That way your heart trips and then hammers against your ribs when he sees you and he grins like a little kid at the to...
The best time to talk to ghosts is just before the sun comes up. That's when they can hear us true.
The dead do walk and haunt and crawl into your bed at night. Ghosts sneak into your head when you're not looking. Stars line up and volcanoes birth out bits of glass that foretell the future. Poison b...
The fat, pumpkin-colored moon rose, turning bloodstains into shadows. All of the colors of shirts and jackets and uniforms paled to the same shade of gray.
The girl reflected back from the window in front of me has poinsettias growing out of her belly and head. She's the shape of a breakfast-link sausage standing on broomstick legs, her arms made from tw...
The light beyond my eyes flashflashflashes with a hundred futures for me. Doctor. Ship's captain. Forest ranger. Librarian. Beloved of that man or that women or those children or those people who vote...
The officer kicked the stool away. This time the rope did not break.
The room does not smell like apple. It smells like frog juice, a cross between a nursing home and potato salad. The Back Row pays attention. Cutting dead frogs is cool.
The stars folded themselves away as the sun peeked above the horizon and cracked open the sky and I kissed him and we laughed and it was good.
The stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking/stuffing/puking didn't make her skinny, it made her cry.
The whole point of not talking about it, of silencing the memory, is to make it go away.
There is no safer. There’s not even safe, never has been.
There is something about Christmas that requires a rug rat. Little kids make Christmas fun. I wonder if could rent one for the holidays.
They tied me back together, but they didn't use double knots. My insides are draining out of the fault lines in my skin, I can feel it, but every time I check the bandages, they're dry.
This camp is a forge for the army; it’s testing our mettle. Instead of heat and hammer, our trials are cold and hunger. Question is, what are we made of? The
We held hands when we walked down the gingerbread path into the forest, blood dripping from our fingers. We danced with witches and kissed monsters. We turned us into wintergirls, and when she tried t...
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