I died on a bitter cold night. Beneath a black sky and a bruised winter moon, I tried to fly, hoping my arms might act as wings.
Bethyl Ann has vomited words like she ate the dictionary.
Mama says it’s just her nature. Some people are flowers, and some are thorns.
If you feel like you have to have them for some reason, tell me and we'll take them out together. Promise?" "If you promise not to tell the whole school about this." "I won't tell them anything. Deal?" "Deal." "I think we should seal it." I gave a ji...
