It had been a good day, all things considered. I had managed rather well on my own. I opened Grandfather's Bible. This is what it would be like when I had my own shop, or when I traveled abroad. I would always read before sleeping. One day, I'd be so rich I would have a library full of novel to choose from. But I would always end the evening with a Bible passage.

I pushed my ragged mouth against the mirror. A thousand crushed bleeding lips pushed back at me.

It's easier to floss with barbed wire than admit you like someone in middle school.

I smile and play pretend through the Morning Show in the kitchen.

You can tell a book is real when your heart beats faster. Real books make you sweat. Cry, if no one is looking. Real books help you make sense of your crazy life. Real books tell it true, don't hold back and make you stronger. But most of all, real books give you hope. Because it's not always going to be like this and books-the good ones, the ones-show you how to make it better. Now.

Rumors are spread by jealous people

Do they choose to be so dense? Were they born that way? I have no friends. I have nothing. I say nothing. I am nothing.