Speak

by Laurie Halse Anderson

I am Outcast.

This was the girl who suffered through Brownies with me, who taught me how to swim, who understood about my parents, who didn’t make fun of my bedroom. If there is anyone in the entire galaxy I am dying to tell what really happened, it’s Rachel. My throat burns.

:(

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.

honestly

“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.

“No imagination. What are you, thirteen? Fourteen? You’ve already let them beat your creativity out of you!

“Tree.” Tree? It’s too easy. I learned how to draw a tree in second grade. I reach in for another piece of paper. Mr. Freeman shakes his head. “Ah-ah-ah,” he says. “You just chose your destiny, you can’t change that.”

Nicole is just not a bitch. It would be so much easier to hate her if she were.

Real

My journal entry for the day: “Exchange students are ruining our country.”

Lmaaooooooo

My goal is to go home and take a nap.

Slay

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?”

Ahhh i forgot what it was

The closest we come to worship is the Trinity of Visa, MasterCard, and American Express.

Slayyyyy

The musical would be easy for me. I am a good actor. I have a whole range of smiles.

It hurts when i smile

And you’re no help. You are so negative and you never try anything, you just mope around like you don’t care that people talk about you behind your back.”

Well

I plan disaster drills. How would we escape if the chemistry lab exploded? What if an earthquake hit Central New York? A tornado?

Me

I see IT in the hallway. IT goes to Merryweather. IT is walking with Aubrey Cheerleader. IT is my nightmare and I can’t wake up. IT sees me. IT smiles and winks. Good thing my lips are stitched together or I’d throw up.

Lets kill it

Mr. Neck: “My family has been in this country for over two hundred years. We built this place, fought in every war from the first one to the last one, paid taxes, and voted.”

Lmao

Brave Kid: “Maybe your son didn’t get that job because he’s not good enough. Or he’s lazy. Or the other guy was better than him, no matter what his skin color. I think the white people who have been here for two hundred years are the ones pulling down the country. They don’t know how to work—they’ve had it too easy.”

Slay

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.

Hes slay

David Petrakis is my hero.

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

I almost tell them right then and there. Tears flood my eyes. They noticed I’ve been trying to draw. They noticed. I try to swallow the snowball in my throat. This isn’t going to be easy.

Forty-two shots later, my arms wobble and I miss one. By that time, the entire class has gathered around and is watching. Nicole is just about bursting. “You have to join the team!” she shouts.

No <3

Trained seal me, bounce, bounce, up, swish; again, and again, and again, until the guys stop bouncing and everyone is watching.

Queen

They offer me a deal. If I volunteer to teach the Basketball Pole how to swish a foul shot, I will get an automatic A in gym. I shrug my shoulders and they grin. I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t say anything. I just won’t show up.

Omg Lol

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.

She says suicide is for cowards. This is an uglynasty Momside.

Ew hate her fr now

He is warming up for a full-fledged rant when the bell rings. Some teachers rumorwhisper he’s having a breakdown. I think he’s the sanest person I know.

Me: “I was the only person who talked to you on the first day of school, and now you’re blowing me off because I’m a little depressed? Isn’t that what friends are for, to help each other out in bad times?”

Happy they ket this line

It is easier to floss with barbed wire than admit you like someone in middle school.

We have a meeting with Principal Principal. Someone has noticed that I’ve been absent. And that I don’t talk. They figure I’m more a head case than a criminal, so they call in the guidance counselor, too.

Ahhhh

Do they choose to be so dense? Were they born that way? I have no friends. I have nothing. I say nothing. I am nothing. I wonder how long it takes to ride a bus to Arizona.

I hate adults

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.”

“Melinda,” Mr. Freeman says. Snow filters into the car and melts on the dashboard. “You’re a good kid. I think you have a lot to say. I’d like to hear it.”

Hawthorne wanted snow to symbolize cold, that’s what I think. Cold and silence. Nothing quieter than snow. The sky screams to deliver it, a hundred banshees flying on the edge of the blizzard. But once the snow covers the ground, it hushes as still as my heart.

Monday. I think it’s some kind of psychiatric disorder when you have more than one personality in your head. That’s what it feels like when I walk home.

Rachel’s face—so angry—in mine. Someone slapped me. I crawled out of the room through a forest of legs. Outside, the moon smiled goodbye and slipped away. I walked home to an empty house. Without a word.

:(

Mom didn’t say much. I said less. In heaven, my grandparents frowned. I sort of wished we had gone to church. Some of the Easter songs are pretty.

Was I raped? Oprah: “Let’s explore that. You said no. He covered your mouth with his hand. You were thirteen years old. It doesn’t matter that you were drunk. Honey, you were raped. What a horrible, horrible thing for you to live through. Didn’t you ever think of telling anyone? You can’t keep this inside forever. Can someone get her a tissue?”

:(

The climax of mating season is nearly upon us—the Senior Prom.

Lmaoo

Me: “No, I haven’t decided on colors yet. That’s not what I mean, I mean no, I won’t help you.”

Proud of you

They say he was all over her with his hands and his mouth. While they danced, he was grinding against her and she backed off. The song ended and she swore at him. They say she was ready to slap him, but she didn’t. He looked around, all innocent-like, and she stomped over to her exchange-student buddies. Ended up dancing the night away with a kid from Portugal. They say Andy’s been really pissed off ever since. He got wicked drunk at a party and passed out in a bowl of bean dip. Rachel burned everything he ever gave her and left the ashes in front of his locker. His friends laughed at him.

she knows

Andy Beast: “You have a big mouth, you know it? Rachel blew me off at the prom, giving me some bullshit story about how I raped you. You know that’s a lie. I never raped anybody. I don’t have to. You wanted it just as bad as I did. But your feelings got hurt, so you started spreading lies, and now every girl in school is talking about me like I’m some kind of pervert. You’ve been spreading that bullshit story for weeks. What’s wrong, ugly, you jealous? Can’t get a date?”

No ypure a rapist ugy rat dirt neck bitch

He nods. Someone is pounding on the door. I unlock it, and the door swings open. Nicole is there, along with the lacrosse team—sweaty, angry, their sticks held high. Someone peels off and runs for help.

NOW YOURE CAUGHT

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.

Omg im crying