Speak

by Laurie Halse Anderson

We fall into clans: Jocks, Country Clubbers, Idiot Savants, Cheerleaders, Human Waste, Eurotrash, Future Fascists of America, Big Hair Chix, the Marthas, Suffering Artists, Thespians, Goths, Shredders. I am clanless.

If there is anyone in the entire galaxy I am dying to tell what really happened, it’s Rachel.

Girly pop what happened are you okay?:(

It is easier not to say anything. Shut your trap, button your lip, can it. All that crap you hear on TV about communication and expressing feelings is a lie. Nobody really wants to hear what you have to say.

That's true unfortunately, people only care about themselves sometimes.

“This is where you can find your soul, if you dare. Where you can touch that part of you that you’ve never dared look at before.

Sounds ominous but slay I guess

This closet is abandoned—it has no purpose, no name. It is the perfect place for me.

“Aren’t you the one who called the cops at Kyle Rodgers’s party at the end of the summer?”

What happened? I swear if her hurt her:(

He says a million things without saying a word. I make a note to study David Petrakis. I have never heard a more eloquent silence.

disappointment. I’m not pretty or smart or athletic. I’m just like them—an ordinary drone dressed in secrets and lies.

I open up a paper clip and scratch it across the inside of my left wrist. Pitiful. If a suicide attempt is a cry for help, then what is this? A whimper, a peep? I draw little windowcracks of blood, etching line after line until it stops hurting. It looks like I arm-wrestled a rosebush.

Oh honey:(

When Mr. Neck isn’t looking, Andy blows in my ear. I want to kill him.

Yeah no he definitely did something:(

When people don’t express themselves, they die one piece at a time. You’d be shocked at how many adults are really dead inside—walking through their days with no idea who they are, just waiting for a heart attack or cancer or a Mack truck to come along and finish the job. It’s the saddest thing I know.”

Damn relatable but sad

We were on the ground. When did that happen? “No.” No I did not like this. I was on the ground and he was on top of me. My lips mumble something about leaving, about a friend who needs me, about my parents worrying. I can hear myself—I’m mumbling like a deranged drunk. His lips lock on mine and I can’t say anything. I twist my head away. He is so heavy. There is a boulder on me. I open my mouth to breathe, to scream, and his hand covers it. In my head, my voice is as clear as a bell: “NO I DON’T WANT TO!” But I can’t spit it out. I’m trying to remember how we got on the ground and where the moon went and wham! shirt up, shorts down, and the ground smells wet and dark and NO!—I’m not really here, I’m definitely back at Rachel’s, crimping my hair and gluing on fake nails, and he smells like beer and mean and he hurts me hurts me hurts me and gets up

Fuck you, you fucking fuck. I swear the words can't describe what I want to do to him. She deserves a hug and all the love:((

Was I raped?

Babes I'm so sorry😭

“I want this boy held responsible. He is to blame for this attack. You do know it was an attack, don’t you? It was not your fault. I want you to listen to me, listen to me, listen to me. It was not your fault. This boy was an animal.”

:(

IT happened. There is no avoiding it, no forgetting. No running away, or flying, or burying, or hiding. Andy Evans raped me in August when I was drunk and too young to know what was happening. It wasn’t my fault. He hurt me. It wasn’t my fault. And I’m not going to let it kill me. I can grow.

😭💖