More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“Monsters are real. Ghosts are real too. They live inside us and sometimes, they win.” - Stephen King
I wasn’t always this way. Most blame others for their demons. We’re all victims one way or another, right? But not me. There’s no one else to blame. I got this way all on my own. I’m the fucking monster in this story.
“Come on, there must be something. What did you do in school?” Drank too much and fucked the hot teaching assistant for a gram of weed.
Insanity. I hate that word for implying that I was ever sane to begin with. “Why am I here then? Why am I not locked up?” I ask defiantly. “Dangerously unhinged and vicious, is what the judge called me. You know that, right? I’m sure it’s in my fucking file.”
Remember what happened to the last person you fell in love with. You’re poison, Brooklyn. Deadly.
I trail my fingers over the faded names, overcome with pointless spite and jealousy. Why are they dead and not me? Why can’t I be buried in this ground, cold and empty? It’s only fair that we get to choose if we live or not. If someone wants to die, that’s their decision. Not everyone wants to be saved.
