Torn

You know what they say: "Your school years are the best years of your life." To which I say, "If that's true, I might as well kill myself now."

It's too weird to think about - how death seems to rewrite all the rules. People who never talked to each other can suddenly cry together. People who used to be close can hardly bear to be in the same room.

This is the real way a friendship ends. Not with some huge screaming row, but with gradual withdrawal. You'd think it would be less painful this way.

Why does being dead automatically make you a good person? Can't anyone see the truth?

She didn't deserve to die. No one deserves that.

The butterflies in my stomach turn into vampire bats as we pull up to the school.

Maybe this is how madness works. At first you're worried you're going crazy, but in the end you don't even care. You embrace it; it's the only thing you've got left.

Someone slaved over writing that for months and months - maybe even years. And even if it's crap, thay deserve some respect for making the effort.

Иногда неведение и есть блаженство.

Касс гордиться тем, что остаётся сильной. Она считает, что девушки, которые плачут, жалкие.
Плакала в конце Диснеевского фильма? Жалкая. Плакала, потому что твоего воображаемого парня
не существует? Жалкая. Вся школа плачет в течение нескольких недель? Жалкие, жалкие, жалкие.

Похороны без тела, как свадьба без невесты. Или жениха