Dead Bodies Are Such Trouble,” Evie Said

There Is No Greater Power On This Earth Than Story.” Will Paced The Length Of The Room. “people Think Boundaries And Borders Build Nations. Nonsense—words Do. Beliefs, Declarations, Constitutions—words. Stories. Myths. Lies. Promises. History.” Will Grabbed The Sheaf Of Newspaper Clippings He Kept In A Stack On His Desk. “this, And These”—he Gestured To The Library’s Teeming Shelves—“they’re A Testament To The Country’s Rich Supernatural History.

She Never Utters A Sound Even When She's Crying, And That Makes Me A Little Sad. Doesn't Seem Right. When You Cry, People Should Hear You. The World Should Stop.

The Night's Chilly Breath Tickles Up My Neck And Finds My Ear, Whispering Secrets Only The Wind Knows.

But The Past Cannot Be Changed, And We Carry Our Choices With Us, Forward, Into The Unknown. We Can Only Move On.

It Isn't That We Do What We Want. It's That We're Allowed To Want At All.