Sunburn: Exclusive American Edition with Additional Material

by Chloe Michelle Howarth

Imagine a place where I could scream and not be heard, and fail and not be seen. A place where my insignificance would not hurt, because everybody would be insignificant. That is not where I am. Here, every breath is heard, every evil thought is known. It might be beautiful to look at, but it is abysmal to exist in; a sweet, sad dream.

Outwardly, we are all living the same life, but inwardly, I hope, everybody has as many private crises as I do.

At home, her days are more than full, but being busy isn’t the same thing as being satisfied.

Right now it seems as though I only have two options: either I can be who Mother expects me to be, or I can be whoever I want to be. Each seems as treacherous as the other. I will find myself, soon, I just need to stop acting my age and grow up.

Maybe I’m just immature, maybe I could be happy too. Really, I don’t even need to be happy, I just need to be the same as everybody else.

Sometimes I look at him like I want him, just to see if it will spark a feeling in me. It would be so wonderfully convenient if I did start to fall for him.

How can I fix this? Do I want this fixed? I wouldn’t want to live not knowing the goodness of Susannah. She is fresh air, and warmth, and mornings in July. What is there to fix? There is evil in my yearning, I know, I just can’t see where yet.

I am not afraid of the nuns anymore. I have been in Eden all Summer long, I know divinity better than they ever will.

On another night, I would have taken his jacket when he offered, but it wouldn’t be worth the talk. I can’t afford mixed messages tonight. I can’t be friends with my friends, just in case people get the wrong idea. Our boundaries, our language, our movements, they must all be monitored, I must bend over backwards to stop from hurting or arousing his feelings.

‘She’s her mother’s daughter anyway.’ I am afraid that we might all be our mothers’ daughters.

I really do think that, in another life, Martin and I would be together. In every life but this one, we would probably be together. Absolutely, we would be, we are so alike. Even in this life, we should be together. He wants his girl next door. I want the girl in the big, echoing house on the other end of the village. She wants a normal life. We will all be disappointed in the end.

Moving away from my mouth, her eyes look so deeply into mine, deeper than my cells, deeper than my soul. With this look, she takes a piece of me, and she will have it forever. I don’t mind. For the first time in my life, I am not afraid to be seen for what I am.

It’s just female adolescence, nothing we do is taken seriously.

I didn’t realise that I was ever unhappy until you made me this happy.

Very soon, I will have to decide whether I am brave enough to be with her. To be with her is a sin, to be without her is a tragedy.

That is her heart, gone from me. That is my final breath of air, my induction to a life without Susannah O’Shea. I feel my soul is damned to Hell. That’s it. There’s nothing else to say. What a simple end to such a complicated story.

All the time I spent trying to find myself, I was being somebody that I am not.