Where Sleeping Girls Lie

by Faridah Àbíké-Íyímídé

The weight of the stars, of the universe, and of her mind were like an anchor pulling her closer toward oblivion.

Not all her feelings reflected reality and not everyone needed saving.

I wonder what it is about this school and its obsession with naming rooms after dead white men. It’s a bit concerning, Elizabeth had said after telling Sade this fact, looking very unimpressed with it all.

She didn’t doubt that Webber was useless. She wasn’t naive to the idea that authority figures weren’t always deserving of their positions.

At least you won’t have Headmaster Webber calling you in for writing inappropriate fan fiction on your laptop,” he said.

because empty gestures were exactly that. Empty. No one seemed to care. Not really.

“They say terrible things are done in darkness, but terrible things are also done in a light too blinding for anyone else to look at directly.” —Dear Senthuran, Akwaeke Emezi

Whenever she’d watch a movie or read a book where a boy would make a huge declaration of love like that, she never found it romantic. The opposite, she found it disturbing. Almost like the girl was cornered, forced to go along with the master’s puppet show in order to not upset him.

Even if you had killed him, I’d still have your back. Partners in crime and patriarchy smashing, always.

But the thing about grief was that even one hundred good days were sometimes weighed down by an overwhelming guilt of forgetting.