Sharp Objects

by Gillian Flynn

It’s impossible to compete with the dead. I wished I could stop trying.

Sometimes I think I won’t ever feel safe until I can count my last days on one hand. Three more days to get through until I don’t have to worry about life anymore.

I could picture a squabble of ghosts ripping through piles of newspapers. Pointing at a name on the page. See, there I am. I told you I lived. I told you I was.

“Safer to be feared than loved,”