When Iโm running, thereโs always this split second when the pain is ripping through me and I can hardly breathe and all I see is color and blurโand in that split second, right as the pain crests, and becomes too much, and thereโs a whiteness going through me, I see something to my left, a flicker of color [โฆ]โand I know then, too, that if I only turn my head heโll be there, laughing, watching me, and holding out his arms. I donโt ever turn my head to look, of course. But one day I will. One day I will, and heโll be back, and everything will be okay. And until then: I run.
Lauren OliverLess than a month ago all of August still stretched before us - long and golden and reassuring, like an endless period of delicious sleep.
Lauren OliverIt's the rule of the wilds. You must be bigger, and stronger, and tougher. A coldness radiates through me, a solid wall that is growing, piece by piece, in my chest. He doesn't love me. He never loved me. It was all a lie. "The old Lena is dead." I say, and then push past him. Each step is more difficult than the last; the heaviness fills me and turns my limbs to stone. You must hurt or be hurt.
Lauren Oliver