I Feed Her to the Beast and the Beast Is Me (I Feed Her to the Beast, #1)

by Jamison Shea

TO THOSE WHO FIND FREEDOM IN BECOMING A MONSTER WHEN DENIED THE SPACE TO BE HUMAN

Firm but still broken. And always beautiful. Just like the perfect ballerina.

I didn’t see a world for me without my art in it, where I didn’t live this beauty and torment every single day.

If only they knew what cruel traits their precious ballet gave me.

Girls like me weren’t supposed to get tired or fall apart. I was supposed to be exceptional, every time.

Even Chaos has rules. To receive, we must be willing to take. To win, you must be willing to fight. To drink in life itself, you must be willing to bleed. And there will be blood.

Paris was beautiful in the ugliest way, and I only dreamed of being loved so unconditionally.

for the first time, dancing wasn’t worth all it took to be here.

What is life but hunger and resilience? Persistent thriving no matter the conditions? What better kin to have?

It wasn’t human, or perfect in all of its imperfections, but it was more than enough. I was more than enough.