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Heroism isn’t a trait commonly found in teenage boys. Stupidity though? We’ve got that in spades.
People always bring their ghosts with them, holding on to them like faded photographs.
What I hate about most of these perps is how normal they look. Like they have the right to sit at any Five Guys in any town in any country in the world and be served a bacon cheeseburger and a side order of fries like everyone else. I hate that no one else around them can see them for the putrid waste of flesh they really are.
You never really know how much of a mask someone wears until they peel it off.
I feel lingering sadness. I can sympathize with their helpless anguish. These people took their own lives, hoping to find some meaning in death when they couldn’t find it in life. But there’s nothing here but regret and longing.
despite all the evidence to the contrary, male pride insists I can handle the situation
Okiku, who likes being unfair, simply sails across the gaps.
“Rest in goddamn peace already!”
“Sometimes, you try to forget about the pain in your past,” I say, sinking to the floor beside her, “and you run as fast as you can, thinking you can leave it behind if you run far enough. But it has a way of sneaking back when you least expect it. Sometimes, the only way you can escape is to turn around and confront it.”
It’s odd how some decisions we make when we feel we have no other choice are the same ones we make when we do.
