The Lovely Bones

by Alice Sebold

Grandma Lynn predicted I’d have a long life because I had saved my brother’s. As usual, Grandma Lynn was wrong.

“How to Commit the Perfect Murder” was an old game in heaven. I always chose the icicle: the weapon melts away.

He had tried to solve my murder and he had failed. He had tried to love my mother and he had failed.

“Just have fun, kid.”