No matter how far I go, I’m still your person. We stand together now.
Anna’s eyes soften, and the stubborn tears begin to recede. The way she stands, the way she breathes, I know she wants to come closer. New knowledge fills up the air between us and neither of us wants to breathe it in.
I’m just saying it doesn’t always have to be spirits and magic. Sometimes hauntings are in your mind. It doesn’t make them less real.
You’re sure you didn’t leave? Didn’t try to explore Thunder Bay again, maybe go down to the park and, I don’t know, dismember some poor jogger?
The rhythm of the footsteps, the sound of whatever is coming down the ladder is driving both me and my mom steadily toward peeing our pants.
It will not be easy for him to see her dead, should they become close. But she has so few friends. She cannot turn one away.
It’s shitty I guess. They’re my friends. But… everything I want to talk about I can’t say to them. It feels so separate, like I’ve touched something that’s taken the color out of me.
I hate telling people this. I never know exactly how my voice is going to sound saying it, and I hate the stricken looks they get on their faces when they don’t know what to say back.
As special as it is to listen to your friends argue over whether or not you have a mental illness,I’m starting to get the urge to go back to class.
The things that your eyes see plainly and cant forget are worse than huddled black figures left to the imagination.
What are you going to fill it with?” she asks. “Holy water or something?” “Probably Dasani,” Thomas replies.
I can’t believe that she’s questioning the existence of magic when she’s standing before me dead and talking.
I wish this knife was good for something besides death, that I could cut through time and walk into that house, into that kitchen where he trapped her, and get her out of there. I would make sure she had the future she should have had.
I make my way to her table, seeing her eyes growing wider as I do. Ten or so other girls probably just developed instantaneous crushes on me, because they see Carmel likes me. Or so the sociologist in my brain says.
This is my favorite part of the hunting. Getting to know them . Hearing their legends. I want them to be as large in my mind as they can possibly be, and when I see them I don’t want to be disappointed.
I had a million different dreams but none of them was stronger than the rest. In the end they probably would have paralyzed me.
We’ve got our heads pulled low inside of our hooded sweatshirts and our eyes are shifty. We look exactly like you’d expect someone to look if they were minutes away from committing a major crime.
I want to get some sleep, so if there’s something mind-numbingly disturbing you want to show me, can we just get it over with?
What do you think the Order is going to do?” he asks. “Help us open a door to Hell, if we’re lucky,” I reply. Lucky. Ha ha. The irony.
It’s the wrong way. She’s farther away from the door now. It occurs to me that some people only have book smarts.
This is what men risk so much for; this shiver, this acute heat and desire. This is what they think eternity feels like.
Gods are cold. War, killing, and stabbing each other in the back is really what we do best.
In afew hours, she’ll see Anna for herself. She’ll seeher dressed in blood, her hair floating like it’ssuspended in water, eyes black and shining. Andwhen she does, she won’t be able to catch herbreath.
I don’t think I was strong in life. Now it seems like I loved every moment, thatevery breath was charmed and crisp.
The accusations make me want to be kid again. Why isn’t my mommy calling them big fat liars?
They shouldn’t be allowed to teach math so early in the morning.
I think I killed a girl who looked like this once.