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This book is dedicated to anyone brave enough to embrace your issues… Courageous enough to dance with your demons. Here’s to the beautiful deformities in us all.
The asshole ratted me out. There are cops everywhere.
I knew it he was too nervous
He might be the one to settle my inner turmoil, and I think I could do the same for him. Maybe we’re two mangled, jagged pieces who could click together, despite all the fires burning around us.
“I missed you,”
This dude omg
“Give in to me, Dascha.” He lifts his face to look down at me. “I don’t want to want you anymore than you want me wanting you.”
“Remember your place here, 101. You’re a number, not a person. You don’t get to ask questions, you don’t get to talk shit, or try to fight back. You do what we say, or you fucking die. End of story.”
I don’t want him, and I don’t want him to want me. But I also don’t seem to want him to not want me. It’s very confusing.
He’s Satan. That’s who he is. I’ve been fucking around with Lucifer himself.
I start walking away but Darcey’s voice catches me. “Dash…” I turn over my shoulder. “Just because we’re broken, it doesn’t mean we need them to put us back together.”
And the next thing I knew, four massive black SUV’s were pulling up onto my parents’ front lawn and dudes were hauling me away in cuffs.”
Poor Luthor that’s why he’s there? He was trying to help and do something good
Compared to all that stuff, obsessing over the kid doesn’t seem too bad.
I don’t really like him calling dash kid… kinda icky
I’m far from done with Dascha Reznikov. In fact, we’ve only just begun.
If he truly thinks he’s in here for simply getting caught robbing a bank, then either he’s a deep-seated liar, like Ren. Or he somehow blocked out what happened.
It’s like something has snapped inside us, and we’re no longer a prisoner and a guard; we’re not enemies, or opposites, or a stalker and his prey. We’re lovers, coming together in reciprocal desire.
“We could… run away,” his voice is hushed with trepidation before he breathes, “Together.”
Dascha Reznikov deserves to be freed from this hellhole, and I’ll be the one to do it.
I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I need him. I’ve never felt as whole as I do with him.
Dascha Reznikov has filled in all the cracks in my foundation.
Holding my wrists up, I observe the word My on the left, and Officer on the right.
Omg dude
“You’re in here for first degree murder.”
Oh-oh
“You killed two people, Dascha,” he goes on, stepping closer to me. “In cold blood. One of them, the relative of our fucking Governor.
“I don’t… remember.”
And I watch her brow furrow while I lunge my right hand forward, stabbing the knife into the side of her neck.
I knew it
I had to cut up Mom, too. I moved her to the bathtub and removed her arms, and her legs. And then her head. It was not easy. But I did it.
Omg
seventeen-year-old neighbor
What?! He wasn’t seventeen when he got locked up what the hell
I sleep for two days, and when I awake, I have no memory of anything that happened.
I was fifteen when it started.
Poor dash
Eight years ago, I killed my mother. And I haven’t been inside this room since.
After the Warden had me shave his head, I immediately stormed off and waited for him in his office. And I quit.
He’s him, and yet he’s not.
“I want to fucking ravage you. I’ve never felt like this before.”
“It’s so… different with you. It’s like we’ve… met before.”
“When you say my name, it’s familiar.”
“I think… you’re a part of m...
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“I feel the same way,”
“He beat the shit out of me… Almost killed me. Threw me down the stairs. I broke my collarbone and my shoulder. That’s where I got this scar.”
Fuck his dad
face. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but… I’m so happy.”
“Kel… You’re gay. I mean, I really wanted to wait for you to tell me, but you’re just so damn stubborn. I sorta figure it out a while ago…”
Well then
“I’ve been seeing someone.”
“Kel,” she brings my attention back to her. “I’m pregnant.”
Okay well damn girl
“Baby, you’re a revelation,”
“Even though I couldn’t stay with you, I wanted you to be comfortable. So I had Joy give you… stuff. Boxers, soap, a toothbrush…”
Whatttt
I don’t care how broken he is, and I don’t care what he’s done. To me, he’s perfect, and I’ll never make the mistake of letting him go again.
But you have something in your brain, like a wound that cannot be healed.
Maybe some things in life are meant to forever fluctuate. Like chaos. A perfect imbalance. And maybe even the distorted can be beautiful, when you really look at it.
“I think you may suffer from Schizophrenia.
