They yell at me because I can't see what they see. Nobody can explain to me why my eyes work different than theirs.

There is no safer. There’s not even safe, never has been.

You have to know what you stand for, not just what you stand against.

You’re not dead, but you’re not alive, either. You’re a wintergirl, Lia-Lia, caught in between the worlds. You’re a ghost with a beat- ing heart. Soon you’ll cross the border and be with me. I’m so stoked. I miss you wicked.

I want to tell him that it's just a stupid car, but bits of me are scattered all over town; the graveyard, school, Cassie's room, the motel, and standing in from of the sink in my mother's kitchen. It takes too much energy to gather all the bits together, so I just sit there and watch him implode.

You must walk alone to find your soul.

My face becomes a Picasso sketch, my body slicing into pieces.