We Could Be Rats

by Emily R. Austin

I find it so strange that he is responding to her supposed lack of love for him with violence.

Sometimes it’s kinder to let people believe they are helping you even when they aren’t.

“I should have known that,” she said. “I can hear you too.” “What do you mean?” I frowned. “I heard you crying the last couple weeks. I was concerned about you, too. Are you okay?”

There is this magnetism between queer kids. It’s a weird phenomenon; we find each other even before we realize we’re queer.

I think my options are to blow myself up, blow everything else up, or just endure it. I couldn’t successfully blow myself up, I don’t actually want to blow everything else up, and I don’t know how to endure it. I have to do something else.