How to Be Eaten

by Maria Adelmann

“The dead women can’t set the record straight. They don’t get a say.”

We warned everybody—all of us did. Nobody listens to what they don’t want to hear. Nobody.

How infuriating, to have people all around and to still not be heard.

when it’s your own story it’s harder to see it clearly,” says Raina, “it’s harder to know exactly what to do, and it’s harder to do it. It’s easier to see the big picture when you’re not involved.”

“Just because you agree to something doesn’t mean you aren’t being taken advantage of,”

“Sometimes it feels like the whole world is against you,”

if you lose your dignity while winning the game, have you really won?”

Rich kids are inventive. Poor kids just lie.

“Be patient, be kind, be good, say please, say thank you, don’t speak unless spoken to”—her voice is rising, quickening—“don’t forget to smile, don’t give it all away, don’t disobey your teachers…” She stops suddenly, looks round at the group to see if they are with her. “Your boyfriend,” Bernice adds. “Your husband,” says Raina. “Your producers,” says Ashlee.

“Maybe don’t even be out there, on the street, not if it’s dark, not if you’re alone, not if you’re a kid, not if you’re a woman, not without a rape whistle around your neck, not without pepper spray clutched in your hand, not, anyway, if you’re wearing that outfit.”

She was born into money, and I was born into my body. Why was it so different, to use one advantage or the other?

“Society defines the terms of payment,” says Ruby, “then gets pissed at you for how you pay.