"welcome To The Amity Compound," Johanna's Eyes

I Slowly Realized That Perfectionism Just Not That Important. What's More Important Is To Try To Love The People Around You. Whatever That Means At A Particular Time Is The Best You Can Do.

I Can’t Leave Now. I Like Her Too Much. There, I Said It. But I Won’t Say It Again.

There Are Men With Guns Up There. When They See Me, They Will Kill Me, If They Can," I Tell My Father Quietly. I Search His Eyes. "should I Let Them?" He Stares At Me For A Few Seconds. "go," He Says, "and God Help You.

And I'm The Kind Of Person Who Does Not Let Inconsequential Things Like Boys And Near Death Experiences Stop Her.

I Feel The Urge, Familiar Now, To Wrench Myself From My Body And Speak Directly Into Her Mind. It Is The Same Urge, I Realize, That Makes Me Want To Kiss Her Every Time I See Her, Because Even A Sliver Of Distance Between Us Is Infuriating. Our Fingers, Loosely Woven A Moment Ago, Now Clutch Together, Her Palm Tacky With Moisture, Mine Rough In Places Where I Have Grabbed Too Many Handles On Too Many Moving Trains. Now She Looks Pale And Small, But Her Eyes Make Me Think Of Wide-open Skies That I Have Never Actually Seen, Only Dreamed Of.