Things We Hide from the Light (Knockemout, #2)

by Lucy Score

Everyone was alive and breathing. Everyone but me. I was just pretending.

I prayed to every religious deity I could think of, then threw in a few celebrities and musicians for good measure. Sweet Dolly Parton, please don’t let her say yes.

“When you start being immune to it, that’s when it’s time to get out. It’s the hurt, the caring that makes us good at our jobs.”

“However, unpopular opinion here. You’re not responsible for how you were brought up, but you are responsible for your actions and reactions once you’re an adult.”

“Being vulnerable doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you trust yourself to be strong enough to handle the hurt. It’s actually the purest form of strength.”

“I know this is not politically correct, but I love me a good consensual manhandling,”

We’re each responsible for our own damn mess. And we’re each responsible for doing what it takes to be better. I’m starting to understand that maybe life isn’t something to get through with the least amount of discomfort possible. Maybe it’s about experiencing it all. The good, the bad, and everything in between.