I Am the Messenger

by Markus Zusak

So it’s all set up. Everyone’s going. Families. Drunks. Complete bastards. Atheists. Satanists. Local gothics. Everyone. Free beer will do that. You can count on it. It’s safe as houses.

Maybe she’s afraid that if I can’t have her, I won’t want her. Like this. Like we used to be. She doesn’t want to love me, but she doesn’t want to lose me either.

I walk to Ma’s place and wait on the front porch. It smells like my childhood, this house. I can even smell it from under the door as I sit here on the cool cement.

If a guy like you can stand up and do what you did, then maybe everyone can. Maybe everyone can live beyond what they’re capable of.