We were this close to ending it and leaving no trace. We could’ve you know, but you burned the bridge all of a sudden, the way you always do. I guess some people just like to prove themselves, to make a point, to play God. You are selfish and so am I, but you are a whole new level of that.
That if someone asked for a lift, you’d charge him a rate. That if someone borrowed a book, you’d say it had burned from some fire. That if someone asked for a prayer, you’d pray he’d go to hell.
One day, you will be lying on your bed left with nothing.
P.S. I am not angry.
When everything falls away, there’s only faith. There’s only the blind hope that things will get better. You’re in the midst of a maelstrom and before you know it, things are changing. They do, sometimes not in the way that we want, but they always do. And that’s often a good thing.
I bumped into an old high school friend a while ago on the groceries with my mom. We said our his and hellos and had a little conversation.
Me: So, are you a graduate now?
Him: No. Back to first year. I’m a fine arts student now.
Me: Really? Why?
Him: Because fuck medicine.
And in that moment I swear I prayed so hard for mom to hear all this so maybe she’ll have a change of heart and let me go back to college and take creative writing instead of continuing the gadforsaken progerraham dat is acckkhounstancy. UGH
Hollow City is the sequel to Ransom Riggs’s debut novel Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children. Technically this tells of the immediate events right after the children decided to leave their island in search for help because their ymbryne (their female headmistress, Miss Peregrine) has lost her ability to turn from bird form to human form.
I won’t tell you about the posters or the cross in my bedroom wall. I won’t tell you about my wayward years in Catholic school. I won’t tell you that I climb up to 54th floor so I could stare at the blinking cityscape with a silver-lined horizon.
When you see me, I’d probably exhale a smoke off your face. I will teach you how to say fuck. I will walk these greasy muck-trodden streets and you will follow because that’s all the choice you’ve got. And we’ll walk as if we’re walking a pristine meadow of swinging grasses and mint until our clothes get too heavy with sweat.
I will give you reality as that’s all there is, and I promise it won’t be as sad as you think.