She Is a Haunting

by Trang Thanh Tran

It’s ridiculous that Đà Lạt is so beautiful when I am this angry.

Just one of many brilliantly humorous moments

He doesn’t get to come back.

First, acknowledge the thought. This is an intrusive thought. Next, accept and let it pass. There is no meaning behind it.

Coping skill many of you might know

I’d rather dine and sleep at home for zero dollars than listen to some old people do their anniversary boning through the walls.

😂

Where I can be close to home, Mom, Lily, and Brendan, but not actually be home.

Did you wait for this moment too when entering college?

Don’t keep a diary, and don’t do anything that lets people know who you are.

The trauma of being betrayed, and the maladaptive coping skill meant to protect from future harm.

Outside, the wind teases my hair into a riotous fluff.

Will my curly people stand up right now, please!

there’s a power in never being known because no one can use you against you.

So many Lovely turns of phrase in this book

I know this is a dream because I am not afraid of my father.

Here I’m cut too sharp. Here I’m a wound.

I interpret this as being in the place or around the people who are threatened by your vulnerability or hurt, out of guilt.

It’d be depressing as hell if the one fact my nonexistent descendants know about me is that I once worked at Walmart.

I’m crying. 😂

I’m so tired of being afraid of myself.

Hit me right in the heart!

Are you going to stand there and cry, says the cruel thing that torments me by replaying moments that hurt.

Intrusive thoughts meant to keep you in your place

We were here first, and yet where are we in history books?

There are so many peoples that hurt this way

My jaw is locked tight, so the heart can’t escape upward in a panic.

I do the jaw thing too but I love the idea that it’s keeping your heart in your body

It’s all too gross. All insects are, even butterflies. People think they’re beautiful, but I see their feelers. Their black eyes. Their fuzzed skin. The faces they wear on their wings.

This feels like getting a glimpse directly into another mind. Also, bugs are gross.

I never knew to ask how her family survived. Our parents save such stories for the most random and disorienting moments to share, like while peeling hột vịt lộn.

This is so true! Lol like my grandfather telling gory World War II stories at the dinner table

I’m lost for words over the million little ways we can still hurt for family we hardly know.

For some, there’s a loneliness that maybe can’t be resolved.

Everything inside stills again, a snow globe turned briefly upright.

Trang is a really lovely and masterful writer

I should be hungry, but all I remember are ghosts.

It’s so strange sharing with someone that I sit, minutes later, dazed and terrified that I’d shown a modicum of human emotion in a very public space. On hauntings.

I think at this point, I was like get out of my head.

My—I turn back around—great-great-grandparents, all white fog seeping in from the windows, meaningless to her except for the production of food.

How to explain—this entire room feels like a pus-filled eardrum, an infection burning me up and clouding the words between us.

Everything is misty and white and could be day rather than the black sky I know to be above us.

The white mist is Jade's family,ancestors who lived and worked in the house. I think at some point in the book we learned this.

I twist my own soft skin.

Slowly, the question that hurts least surfaces in my mouth:

This gives that moment when you’re trying to figure out exactly how to proceed in a conversation

I can’t worry about the ghosts’ affairs when my own is a match short of fire.

I just love this. I love the way she writes. This is so cute and funny. And apropos of the character. Just so adolescent.

my mind’s never been clearer. It’s been hard to hear in

Vigilance every waking moment carries a high toll.

A fucking men. Hypervigilance is exhausting to your mind and to your body; pain, severe muscle tension.

I’ve been going about it wrong; I don’t need to know what Marion wants. Racists don’t need reasons to be racist. She lived to be seen.

Mic drop

There are so many others waiting to be heard, overlooked and forgotten and written in the margins. My family won’t be free if I play by the rules set by others, allowing the pattern to repeat—relentless and hungry.

I’m starting to know the kind of person I am.

Lovely. I just really feel for her.

I haven’t trusted a smile since.

I feel exposed and foolish.

It’s wild, there may be nothing foolish about it . When you habitually try to hide?exposure, comes with a strong feeling, and foolish is as good a choice as any.

“I’ve protected myself a long time too,” she says. “I can handle whatever it is.”

It changes nothing in the past, but this is in my power now.

We shovel ash, scattering it to the wind. “I release you, racists!” I yell, and Florence joins in,

Even within families, love is an impossible thing to pin down. How can strangers?

This is just that beautifully frustrating age of life where the lies adults tell themselves are discovered to be glaringly untrue

Who am I but someone others define?

It’s easier to be a stereotype. It hurts when you are yourself.

It’s also exhausting to be yourself when you’re different. But sometime is the stereotype is easier.

It’s easier than telling him I don’t belong here, that sometimes I don’t feel like I belong to myself.

the word crush was invented: hope blossoming wild under the constant threat of being caved in.

Beautiful

This is a lonely boy all grown up and still desperate to be accepted home.

She really works through her anger at her dad, and comes to understand him a bit even though he’s a jerk

I’m not an optimist, because shit like this happens.

Love this

For fuck’s sake, you do one nice thing and people remember.

I was rolling

“It’s not a pimple,” I answer matter-of-factly, reaching for my toiletry bag on the shelf. Lily tries to stand, but I hold her in place where I can see it stewing. Seething for being found early.

How Did I not see this coming? physical involvement with a vile PARASITE simply had to be a part of the story. Is it a vile botfly? Aargh

I should’ve known after all my research how easily one can be colonized:

Within a family even though it’s possible.

infections begin as innocently as licking your fingers clean of salt.

Relatable. Then I remember I just spent 4 nights in the hospital being treated for a NASTY KIDNEY INFECTION AS WELL. WHEN ART IMITATES ...oops...life.

I can’t split it open. I don’t want to know what happens when something’s half-dead in you,

Honest and several meanings really.

But I’m faster. Flipping open the toilet seat, I throw the larva in. Its bulky form splashes as I flush it away, other hand shoving my sister back.

This has me literally scratching at my neck