"The sheets on my bed were mussed, the pang of fear still lingering in my room. How ridiculous I’d..."

“The sheets on my bed were mussed, the pang of fear still lingering in my room. How ridiculous I’d been. Being so frightened. But even the surprise of harmless others in the house disturbed me. I didn’t want my inner rot on display, even accidentally. Living alone was frightening in that way. No one to police the spill of yourself, the ways you betrayed your primitive desires. Like a cocoon built around you, made of your own naked proclivities and never tidied into the patterns of actual human life.”

- from The Girls by Emma Cline (via milk-eyed-mender)