Imaginary Strangers (Dangerous Strangers, #1)

by Minka Kent

The face she puts on for the rest of the world—an average-in-every-way single mother—is nothing more than a mask that hides the monster beneath

You can hude behind addiction it doesnt discriminate....sometimes you never kniw abd its not obvious to thers silently dying

she woke up one day and decided she no longer wanted to be called Mom

Disociate from her role abandoning her responsible as a mitger

I could kill her. I could free myself from the misery, abuse, neglect, and cruelty that has stained

The idea of taking a life—especially that of my own mother—is strangely exhilarating, a siren song to the dark side, a flood of power in a world in which I’ve never known such a thing.

Hmmm id she psychopathic or is her mither deserving of thus

I wasn’t expecting—the feeling of nothing. The woman who gave me life is about to lose hers, and I’m . . . indifferent.

All I wanted was to get away from this woman once and for all. I guess that’s

thing in this world that has ever truly scared me: my mother.

Woahh

“It’s only the third week of kindergarten,” he says. “Plenty of kids struggle with making friends. She just needs more time.”

Hmmm behavioral issues so soon

plays alone at recess. It’s like she has no interest in other people whatsoever. She wasn’t like this in preschool. This isn’t normal for her.”

Asocial

And more than that, he doesn’t know what I am.

lie to give them each the best version of myself—a version I’ve curated only for them.

To perform for others

“Sociopathy is considered an antisocial personality disorder,” she explained. “It’s believed that one in twenty-five people in this country falls under this category.” The doctor paused, taking a moment to readjust her trembling hands. “After evaluating you, it’s my professional opinion that you, too, fall under this category.”

Hmmm cales it

I believe it began to surface in your teenage years, though it could have been slightly earlier. In addition, I believe you’re also dealing with some complex post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Geberational rrauma

Bouts of boredom are common, too, often steering people into bad habits as a way of coping. Anyway, I’ll give Dr. Runzie a heads-up and see if she can work you into her schedule as a personal favor.”

Isolation is the wosrt thimg as a socia soecies. Maladaltive habits fofm

but I can tell she agrees Lucinda was a pathetic excuse for a human being. The validation I’ve so badly needed my entire life is written all over her face.

Guilt and remorse might as well be control mechanisms.

“A meat jelly sandwich.”

Howdels she knowabout jt

couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him. In my head, he was some kind of savior. A thing out of a storybook. A prince or a knight who lived in a far-off land. I’d always hoped he’d show up one day and take me away from my evil queen of a mother.

Iean berfatherd waa likely a reprieve

Unlike Lucinda, he made sure I was buckled in before we left the driveway, and he even

SOmethin asminute as a seat bet as aarepresennation of her safetg was the onky ojtstanidng exalle of how she felt safe growng jp

meant—or even if she was telling the truth. There was always a revolving door of men coming in and out of our lives for various reasons.

learned that one of the reasons I’m naturally manipulative is because I need control over my environment. Lack of control can sometimes manifest as anger, depression, or extreme risk-taking, which could be harmful for all involved.

For the rest of that semester, she sat with me while I ate, making small talk about my interests and occasionally asking about my homelife.

From a young age, I decided that the devil I knew was better than the devil I didn’t know. I could navigate Lucinda’s moods for the most part. I could tell when things were about to get especially ugly. There was safety somewhere in there, as messed up as it was, though Dr. Runzie would argue it was all in the name of self-preservation.

So tumuktuous

kept trying to wake her up to save her, but she was ignoring me.”

The representatiom ofinstabikity sn lack of safety

“How are you feeling since having that dream? Sometimes it can be re-traumatizing to see your abuser again, even if it’s not in a literal sense.”

I live with him

What he brings to the table is what I need—a safe, stable home, a comfortable existence. And what I bring to the table is what he needs—a devoted partner to raise his children, a companion who respects and supports him mentally, physically, sexually, emotionally, professionally

ANd shhs never hdthus

At the end of the day, every relationship is transactional, and anyone who believes otherwise is fooling themselves.

Yukons, Escalades, G-Wagens, and Teslas full of children unload in the drop-off zone.

Wethy clmuniy

I once heard a mother say that every time her kid cried, she cried, too. It seemed a little overkill, but for once I wouldn’t mind feeling

“She won’t talk to me when I say something to her.” He wipes his drying tears on the back of

Lkke her motber ignoringhee

“Imaginary taught

Imaginary is pobs her mother

way, I’m taking care of myself so I can take care of what matters to me—my husband and daughter.

Lucinda never gave a shit about anything.

When she puts it like that, no wonder I’m the way that I am. My entire childhood was traumatic event after traumatic event and there was never anyone to protect me, to help me make sense of

“When I woke up, Lucinda was standing over my bed. My first thought was that she was going to be mad at me.” “Mad at you for what?” “For not dying. She didn’t want me. I was only ever a Band-Aid Baby. She told me that all the time.”

Oh my goodness to feek guikty for yoir own existence

“To be honest, I’m not even sure he died. Lucinda told me he did and I guess I believed her because I never saw him again after that, and the father I knew would’ve never abandoned me. If he was alive, he was dead to me after that—for leaving me with her.”

Abanddnmeet

“One of the very first things you told me was that psychopaths are born, but sociopaths are made,”

“Believe it or not, I . . . I never even knew his name. He was always just . . . Daddy.”

Perhaps heewas just somene her mother waswith not necessarilyher bio dad

And I didn’t want to risk her telling me he wasn’t my biological father because that’s the kind of thing she’d have done, just to mess with me.”

pseudoglare,

Whenever three women are in a group together, one always gets inadvertently shoved to the outside. It’s just one of those things, like a law of nature. My intention isn’t to leave Rachel out—I simply want her to warm up to me, but she’s

Busyness, like most other things, can be addictive.

When we were finally leaving, she told me how many miles she’d have to run tomorrow to burn all that food off and swatted my arm for making her eat so much of it.

Ugh hatethat

“What’s a Band-Aid Baby?” “Where did you hear that?” I ask a question for which I already know the answer. “Imaginary said it today.”

Oh goodness thta what her momcalled her

“But I can handle it. When you’ve been through what I have, everything else is a walk in the park.”

Survivods of any trauma make you reskient

Imogen . . . Imogen Carrey . . . Imaginary .

Byeeew

can’t recall a single instance I’ve seen my husband that upset about anything. I’ve seen him shed tears of joy at the births of our babies. I’ve seen him laugh at silly online videos until he can’t breathe. I’ve seen the way his face lights when I walk into the room far too many times to count. But I’ve never seen him angry or irritated, not even in Chicago rush-hour traffic. That can’t be normal.

It maaeks sense sbe is skeptica of howbgood her husbandis a eey person in ber life has been toxic

“It’s not uncommon for children who have experienced trauma and neglect to grow up to become adults who are always on edge, waiting for the next shoe to drop,”

Literalky how i few

hypothetical scenario and asks a multitude of questions designed to prove that Lucinda’s words have created a false narrative about my worth as a woman, as a lover, as a partner, and as a person.

Growing up, I always teetered between being skinny and borderline underweight, so I never had a fixation with weight like so many of the other girls around me. I’ve long suspected my thin frame is a result of Lucinda’s infamous feast-or-famine feeding rituals, but as long as I’m fed, I couldn’t care less about the number on the inside of my clothes. I’m just grateful to have a closet full of clean ones. “I’m fine,”

Noy me