Jessica Sorensen

Quinton: I think if every person had a Nova Reed in this world, then life would be a little sunnier.

Life has been full of evil, and if you don't start asking the right questions, the evil is going to be the end of you.

Asher taps his fingers on his lips and I catch Amy licking her own as she eyes his mouth. "What exactly are Rocky Mountain Oysters?" he asks her.I restrain a laugh as Amy's face twists in confusion."Well...I think they're kind of meat. I'm not sure what kind, but I like them." She presses the end of the pen against her chin.I shake my head at Asher. "You don't want those. Trust me.

It isn't as important to feel great about all the things we do. But how we feel toward the end when we look back at everything we've done.

At least tell me you won? And that the scratches and dings were totally worth it." "Of course. They're always worth it," he says with a hidden meaning that only the two of us could ever understand.

It's what's buried deep inside that frightens me because it's broken, like a shattered mirror.

Why do I always have so many fucking questions in my head?

I walk out the door with a heavy feeling in my heart as another secret falls on top of it.

There are no accusations with writing, no judgment, no shame, only freedom.

I can do pain. That__ the easy part of life. It__ everything else, happiness, laughter, love, that__ fucking complicated.

I don't believe that. I don't believe that there are bad things about you. Only things that you think are bad.

I'm not scared of death, just tired. So fucking tired of being alive yet never fully breathing.

Seriously, it's like watching mild porn, watching you two eye fuck each other every two seconds.

Finally I find it, the book, but as I__ pulling it out of the stack I hear a noise coming from my toy room. It sounds like scratching or scraping maybe and my mind instantly goes to the possibility that maybe it__ a monster or a dragon or something else with claws. My hand shakes a little as I stand up and turn back toward the room. When I step into it, I feel the wind hit my cheeks. I shine the light around and notice one of the windows is open. I don__ understand why. I didn__ open it and I don__ think it was open when I came down here. What if it was a monster? I sweep the flashlight around the room at all my toys as I start back toward the corner. Then the light lands on something tall_ I hear voices. Ones that don__ sound like they belong to a monster, but just people. But that__ what they end up being. Terrible, horrible monsters.

I just let the pain take over, allowing it to numb the pain of being left behind.

To me, he is art, poetry for the eyes and heart. He is the most terrifyingly beautiful guy I have ever seen. And his scars have to tell a story...

But no matter what happens, I spoke up, made a voice for myself, freed from the haunting memories that have owned me for the last six years. I found my courage.

He gazes at the people in the truck. "Are you driving back with them? Smiling, I nod. "Yes." "With a bunch of dudes?" "Yes." "Is that safe?" My smile expands into a face consuming grin. " I am safer in that truck than I am anywhere else.