In a few hours, she’ll see Anna for herself. She’ll see her dressed in blood, her hair floating like it’s suspended in water, eyes black and shining. And when she does, she won’t be able to catch her breath.
As special as it is to listen to your friends argue over whether or not you have a mental illness,I'm starting to get the urge to go back to class.
I think I killed a girl who looked like this once.
What do you think the Order is going to do?" he asks. "Help us open a door to Hell, if we're lucky," I reply. Lucky. Ha ha. The irony.
I’m just saying it doesn’t always have to be spirits and magic. Sometimes hauntings are in your mind. It doesn’t make them less real.
I've sort of been slacking off in my voodoo studies.I've trigonometry, you know?
I want to get some sleep, so if there's something mind-numbingly disturbing you want to show me, can we just get it over with?
It's shitty I guess. They're my friends. But... everything I want to talk about I can't say to them. It feels so separate, like I've touched something that's taken the color out of me.
Girls, on the other hand, have always come easy. I don't know why that is, exactly. Maybe it's the outsider vibe and a well-placed brooding look. Maybe it's something I think I see sometimes in the mirror, something that reminds me of my father. Or m...
Anna's eyes soften, and the stubborn tears begin to recede. The way she stands, the way she breathes, I know she wants to come closer. New knowledge fills up the air between us and neither of us wants to breathe it in.
I don’t think I was strong in life. Now it seems like I loved every moment, that every breath was charmed and crisp.
Arthur without Excalibur was still Arthur.
You fuck - you ate my cat!
Fucking nightmares. My heart starts to slow down. Glancing down at the floor, I see Tybalt, who is glaring at me with a puffed-up tail. I wonder if he had been sleeping on my chest and I catapulted him off when I woke up. I don't remember, but I wish...
I don't believe that." She seems like suck a force,this reasonable girl who kills with a turn of her fingers. She would have left all this behind, if she had the chance. "I honestly don't remember," she sighs "I don't think I was strong in life. Now ...
We've got our heads pulled low inside of our hooded sweatshirts and our eyes are shifty. We look exactly like you'd expect someone to look if they were minutes away from committing a major crime.
You make me want things that I can't have.
I had a million different dreams but none of them was stronger than the rest. In the end they probably would have paralyzed me.
The things that your eyes see plainly and cant forget are worse than huddled black figures left to the imagination.
The rhythm of the footsteps, the sound of whatever is coming down the ladder is driving both me and my mom steadily toward peeing our pants.
I hate telling people this. I never know exactly how my voice is going to sound saying it, and I hate the stricken looks they get on their faces when they don't know what to say back.
