CASSIE
I’M GOING TO KILL Evan Walker.
The brooding, enigmatic, self-involved, secretive bastard. I’m going to put his poor, tortured, human-alien hybrid soul out of its misery. You’re the mayfly. You’re the thing worth dying for. I woke up when I saw myself in you. Oh, puke.
Last night I gave Sams a bath—the first in three weeks—and he damn near broke my nose, or I should say rebroke my nose, since Evan’s old girlfriend (or friend with benefits or whatever she was) broke it first by slamming my face into a door behind which was my little brother, the little shit I was trying to save and the same little shit who nearly broke it again. See the irony there? There’s probably some symbolism, too, but it’s late and I haven’t slept in, like, three days, so forget it.
Back to Evan and the reason I’m going to kill him.
Basically, it boils down to the alphabet.
After Sam hit me on the nose, I burst out of the bathroom, soaking wet, whereupon I smacked into Ben Parish’s chest. Ben was lurking in the hallway as if every little thing that has to do with Sam is his responsibility, the aforesaid little shit screaming obscenities at my back, the only dry part of my body after trying to wash his, and Ben Parish, the living reminder of my father’s favorite saying that it’s better to be lucky than smart, gave me that ridiculous what’s up? look, so stupidly cute that I was tempted to break his nose, thereby making him not so damn Ben Parish–y looking.
“You should be dead,” I said to him. I know I just wrote that I was going to kill Evan, but you need to understand—oh, screw it. No one is ever going to read this. By the time I’m gone, there won’t be anyone who can read. So this isn’t being written for you, future reader who won’t exist. It’s for me.
“Probably,” Ben said.
“What are the odds that someone I knew from before would still be here now?”
CASSIE I’M GOING TO KILL Evan Walker. The brooding, enigmatic, self-involved, secretive bastard. I’m going to put his poor, tortured, human-alien hybrid soul out of its misery. You’re the mayfly. You’re the thing worth dying for. I woke up when I saw myself in you. Oh, puke. Last night I gave Sams a bath—the first in three weeks—and he damn near broke my nose, or I should say rebroke my nose, since Evan’s old girlfriend (or friend with benefits or whatever she was) broke it first by slamming my face into a door behind which was my little brother, the little shit I was trying to save and the same little shit who nearly broke it again. See the irony there? There’s probably some symbolism, too, but it’s late and I haven’t slept in, like, three days, so forget it. Back to Evan and the reason I’m going to kill him. Basically, it boils down to the alphabet. After Sam hit me on the nose, I burst out of the bathroom, soaking wet, whereupon I smacked into Ben Parish’s chest. Ben was lurking in the hallway as if every little thing that has to do with Sam is his responsibility, the aforesaid little shit screaming obscenities at my back, the only dry part of my body after trying to wash his, and Ben Parish, the living reminder of my father’s favorite saying that it’s better to be lucky than smart, gave me that ridiculous what’s up? look, so stupidly cute that I was tempted to break his nose, thereby making him not so damn Ben Parish–y looking."คุณควรจะตาย กล่าวว่า เขา ฉันรู้ว่า ฉันเพียงแค่เขียนว่า ฉันจะฆ่าอีแวน แต่คุณต้องเข้าใจ — โอ้ สกรูก็ ไม่มีใครเคยไปอ่านบทความนี้ โดยเวลาที่ผมหายไป ไม่มีใครสามารถอ่าน ดังนั้น นี้ไม่ได้ถูกเขียนสำหรับคุณ อ่านในอนาคตที่จะไม่มีอยู่ ดิฉันก็เป็น"อาจ เบนกล่าวว่า"โอกาสที่ใครรู้จากก่อนยังคงจะที่นี่ตอนนี้ มีอะไรบ้าง"
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