3
" One of my earliest memories was of a maze of pale green walls. The corridors never ended, no matter which way I turned. I was running, my feet bare, my paper-thin gown flapping around skinny foal-like legs, and the demons kept on coming. I’d run the maze before, because I always knew which way to turn to find the little clear plastic box. I’d run, and run. Lungs aching, throat burning, my feet slapping against the smooth floor, and the sound of scrabbling claws chased me down. I made it to the box, every time (I’d learned later, there were others who hadn’t) and once inside, I’d yank the clear door closed. The demons didn’t see the box. They saw only me, the wraith-like little half-blood girl. They would launch themselves—claws extended, jaws wide, eyes ablaze—and slam into my box, sending shudders rattling through my bones. They’d snap and snarl, hook their teeth into the box and gnaw at its edges, desperate to get to the feast huddling a few millimeters away.
Flooding, the Institute had called it.
At first I was afraid, and I learned how to run. Then I was angry, and I learned how to fight with my fists and my element. Then, I got even. I lured those demons into a corner and ambushed them, killing every last one. After countless visits to the maze, after weeks, years, I’d started liking it, and killing became as natural as breathing. It was what I was good at. What I was made for.
What I lived for.
© Copyright Pippa DaCosta 2016. "
― Pippa DaCosta , Chaos Rises (Chaos Rises, #1)
5
" EnragedI throw myself to the ground and I scream,my best friend is gone, this world is so mean.I cry as I pound my fists on his grass,I’m very upset that our time went so fast.My heart beats faster than ever before,my tears unstoppable, I'm hurt to the core.There are no words people can say,that will ease my excruciating pain.I don’t understand why you had to go.You leaving me, we just didn’t know.I’ll make it somehow, I’ll start anew.But, there is no way I can replace you.I struggle to make it through each day,and retain my sanity in this foggy haze.The sadness and pain that I display,is because God decided to take you away. "
6
" And in it all, the sensation of shaking my fists at the sky, shaking my fists high up to the sky, because that is what we do when someone dies too early, too beautiful, too undervalued by the world, or sometimes just at all -- we shake our fists at the big, beautiful, indifferent sky, and the anger is righteous and strong and helpless and huge. I shook and I shook, and I put all of it into the dress. "
― Aimee Bender , The Color Master: Stories
9
" Max, you can change your mind.” His voice was like autumn leaves dropping
lightly onto the ground.
“I don’t know how.”
Then my throat felt tight, and I rubbed my fists against my eyes. I dropped
my face onto my arms, crossed over my knees. This sucked! I wanted to be back
with the oth-
Fang’s hand gently smoothed my hair off my neck. My breath froze in my
chest, and every sense seemed hyperalert. His hand stroked my hair again, so
softly, and then trailed across my neck and shoulder and down my back, making
me shiver.
I looked up. “What the heck are you doing?”
“Helping you change your mind,” he whispered, and then he leaned over,
tilted my chin up, and kissed me. "
― James Patterson , Saving the World and Other Extreme Sports (Maximum Ride, #3)