Bunny (Bunny, #1)

by Mona Awad

“We tried to braid your hair, you didn’t let us braid it. We invited you to things, you wouldn’t come. We asked you to come out for bento boxes and you said, No, no, I’m too busy and important and better than you are for bento boxes. But you don’t remember. All you remember is Samantha Heather Mackey is the victim. Samantha Heather Mackey is in pain. Samantha Heather Mackey’s heart is on fire with all the feelings she thinks only she can feel.”

Don’t worry, Bunny, they tell me, patting all my hands, which they found so, so easily. First Drafts. Part of the Process. Sometimes you have to kill your darlings, you know? In fact, that’s what we sometimes call them. Darlings.

So what if anatomically there are some things missing? Essential things. Like hands, genitals. An untwisted mouth. Possibly a soul. Still, it’s a good start. We’ll get better.

No, Bunny. We love you, but no.

I look at Eleanor, smiling at me so falsely, her hatred of me as clear and deep as the glacial eyes of Beowulf IV. As naked as Jonah’s joy. I see it plainly now, just as I saw it before. Jonah beams at us. He sees nothing, of course. Two girls smiling at one another. It’s nice.