When I cry - when I let myself cry - that's who I cry for. I don't cry for myself. I cry for the Cassie that's gone. And I wonder what that Cassie would think of me. The Cassie who kills.

Sarcasm doesn't appear to work on him. If that's true, I'm in trouble: It's my normal mode of communication.

As long as you draw breath anywhere -here or ten thousands miles from here- I will love you. I can't help loving you, so I choose to hate you...to make my love bearable.

And no answer when we sent our message. Something like, "Hello, welcome to Earth. Hope you enjoy your stay. Please don't kill us.

In case you're an alien and you're reading this: BITE ME.

Because we will die, but at least we will die unbroken.

Do you know how to tell who the enemy is, Cassie?