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He wouldn’t kiss me until I serviced him. Then he wouldn’t kiss me because of where my mouth had been. Young love.

“Name a truly violent incident you saw growing up.” My mother with the baby.

He smiled at me, as if he were simply curious, no judgments. I bet he glowed in the interrogation room.

... so I walked myself over to La Mère. My French goes only to eleventh grade, but judging from the restaurant’s aggressively nautical theme, I think the owners meant to name it La Mer, The Sea, and not La Mère, The Mother. Still, the name was appropriate, as The Mother, my mother, frequented this place, as did her friends. They all just love the chicken Caesar, which is neither French nor seafood, but I’m not going to be the one to press the point.

A few quick cuts and cunt becomes can’t, cock turns into back, clit transforms to a very unlikely cat, the l and i turned into a teetering capital A.

I was taken with myself, an incredible flirt in any mirror I could find.

I regretted what a serious teenager I’d been: There were no posters of pop stars or favorite movies, no girlish collections of photos or corsages. Instead there were paintings of sailboats, proper pastel pastorals, a portrait of Eleanor Roosevelt.

... no parents should see their child die, that such an event is like nature spun backward. But it’s the only way to truly keep your child. Kids grow up, they forge more potent allegiances. They find a spouse or a lover. They will not be buried with you. The Keenes, however, will remain the purest form of family.

“I liked the eye for an eye stuff better,” grumbled a man behind me. I wondered if the tooth for a tooth part disturbed anyone else.

I dreamt my mother was slicing an apple onto thick cuts of meat and feeding it to me, slowly and sweetly, because I was dying.

This west side was the newer section of town. You could tell because the grass was a brighter green

... Main Street, which is, true to its word, Wind Gap’s main street. On Main Street you will find a beauty parlor and a hardware store, a five-and-dime called Five-and-Dime, and a library twelve shelves deep.

... a chilly, polite call after administering three bourbons. I’d worried my mother could smell it through the phone lines.

- Я устала умирать.

Подростки - гнусный народ.

Это отнюдь не самое страшное из того, что я делала в этом в парке. Здесь был не только мой первый поцелуй, но и минет. Сначала командир бейсбольной команды взял надо мной шефство и повел в лес. Он сказал, что если я сделаю ему приятное, то он меня поцелует. А потом не захотел меня целовать, потому что у меня во рту было «это». Первая любовь так глупа.

Я всегда вычеркиваю в календаре прошедшие дни: вот прошёл 151-й день, и ничего по-настоящему страшного не произошло; 152-й- Земля все так же крутится, мир не разрушен; 153-й - я до сих пор никого не убила; 154-й - у меня по-прежнему нет лютых врагов.

Она рассмеялась: её смех был высоким и легким, как воздушный шарик, уносимый ветром.

I'm here, I said, and it felt shockingly comforting, those words. When I'm panicked, I say them aloud to myself. I'm here. I don't usually feel that I am.

Sometimes my scars have a mind of their own.