Quotes from Julie Anne Peters

I don't sleep. All night long I'm wide awake, thinking, Secrets, secrets, secrets. There are secrets in my past no one needs to know. Secrets in my present that might kill Kim and Chip. I don't want to take my secrets with me when I go. When I pass through the light, i want to be free of everything and everyone.

I just want the pain to end.

Your failures and your faults, they stick with you. They glob into ugly, cancerous growths inside you and make you want to die.

I'm sorry you don't get it, Mom. Sometimes I don't get why I do the things I do. I just know I wake up every morning and wish I was dead.

Mom's eyes blazed. "Are you sleeping with her?" Oh, god. Did we have to do this here? Now? "Well, actually," I smirked, "we don't get a lot of sleep.

When you discover the joy of reading, your mind opens to a world of wondrous discoveries and infinite possibilities.

The sad truth is, they should never trust me.

My parents will be sad for a while, and they may even blame themselves, the way they do now. Eventually they'll come to peace with my decision. I hope they'll realize I'm finally at peace.

I throw him two bones: a smile and a nod. Both lies.

Our eyes met across the crowded room, like in the movies, except we didn't share a knowing smile and race into each other's arms. Instead I fell into the trash can.

Me? I had no dreams. No longings. Dreams only set you up for disappointment. Plus, you had to have a life to have dreams of a better life.

At times like this, I'm thankful I don't feel love.

What I know is you can't go back. You can't press delete and re-key your life.

Do what, Kim? Lead a normal life? Too late. Way too late.

Don't choose me. I'm not worth your time.

I don't have alot of people to talk to. Not alot of people are worth my time.

You won't know until it's over. You won't find me in time.

Really? It seems too good to be true. I don't trust it. I don't trust anyone.

Trust. That was what this was all about. If you can't trust the one you love, you don't have anything.

Is that all I am? A friend?" "Of course not," I say. "I love you." "Am I the only one?" she asks. "Yes. Completely." First, last, and always.

The truth remains. I was, and am, disgusted with myself.

I didn't tell him. And I never told her the whole truth. What would it matter? There was nothing she could do; nothing anyone can do or will do.

I'm scared. What will tomorrow bring? It has to be better than today. It has to.

His invitation lingers. So does my question. Why me? I don't know the answer. When I look at myself in the mirror, all I see is a starving, stunted bird who never grew wings and lost all reason to sing.