Before She Got Here Everything

Did You Just Call Me Beatrice?

A Sob Racks My Body Again, And He Wraps His Arms Around Me So Tightly I Find It Difficult To Breathe, But It Doesn't Matter. My Dignified Weeping Gives Way To Full-on Ugliness, My Mouth Open And My Face Contorted And Sounds Like A Dying Animal Coming From My Throat. If This Continues I Will Break Apart, And Maybe That Would Be Better, Maybe It Would Be Better To Shatter And Bear Nothing.

The Truth Is... You Are Hurting Me. Not On Purpose, I Know That. But I Love You And Every Second That You Don´t Love Me Back...it Hurts.

I Smirk As Peter Misses Again. I Can't Help Myself. "hey, Peter," I Say, " Remember What A Target Is?

And Don't Pay Attention To Christina. Your Face Doesn't Look That Bad." He Smiles A Little. "i Mean, It Looks Good. It Always Looks Good. I Mean--you Look Brave. Dauntless." His Eyes Skirt Mine, And He Scratches The Back Of His Head. The Silence Grows Between Us. It Was A Nice Thing To Say, But He Acts Like It Means More Than Just Words. I Hope I Am Wrong. I Could Not Be Attracted To Al-- I Could Not Be Attracted To Anyone That Fragile. I Smile As Much As My Bruised Cheek Will Allow, Hoping That Will Diffuse The Tension.