He was the boy that made mix tapes with themes and hand-colored covers until the day he hit my sister and stopped crying.

I have finished To Kill a Mockingbird. It is now my favorite book of all time, but then again, I always think that until I read another book.

The outside lights were on, and it was snowing, and it looked like magic. Like we were somewhere else. Like we were someplace better.

This moment will just be another story someday.

She wasn't bitter. She was sad, though. But it was a hopeful kind of sad. The kind of sad that just takes time.

Something really is wrong with me. And I don't know what it is.

But Mary Elizabeth felt different. She kept saying it was an "articulate" film. So "articulate." And I guess it was. The thing is, I didn't know what it said even if it said it very well.