22
" I felt angry,
frustrated.
I felt I didn't belong, not in my
church, not in my home, not
in my skin.
Amidst the chaos, i felt
alone,
in need of a friend instead of
a sister, someone detached from
my world.
The "woman's role" theory
disgusted me.
I would soon be a woman, and I
knew I could never perform as
expected.
I was tired of my mom's submission
to her religion, to her husband's
sick quest for an heir,
to his abuse.
I was sick of my dad, of
reaching for
him as he fell farther away
from us and into the arms of
Johnnie WB. "
― Ellen Hopkins , Burned (Burned, #1)
25
" Dad staggered in, eyes eerily lit.
The corners of his mouth foaming spit.
His demons planned an overnight stay.
Mom motioned to take the girls away.
hide them in their rooms, safe in their beds.
We closed the doors, covered our heads,
as if the blankets could mute the sounds of his blows
or we could silence her screams behind out pillows.
I hugged the littlest ones close to my chest,
till the beat of my heart lulled them to rest.
Only then did I let myself cry.
Only then did I let myself wonder why
Mom didn't fight back, didn't defend,
didn't confess to family or friend.
Had Dad's demons claimed her soul?
Or was this, as well, a woman's role? "
― Ellen Hopkins , Burned (Burned, #1)
33
" One Time, One Day
between Davie and Roberta ,
I asked my mom why she persisted,
kept on having baby after baby,
She looked
at me, at a spot between my eyes,
blinking like I had suddenly fallen
crazy. She paused before answering
as if
to confide would legitimize my fears.
She drew a deep breath, leaned against
the chair. I touched her hand and I thought
she might
cry. Instead she put baby Davie in my arms
Pattyn, she said, it's a woman's role.
I decided if it was my role, I'd rather
disappear. "
― Ellen Hopkins , Burned (Burned, #1)
34
" If you've never shot a gun,
You can’t understand
how it feels in your hands.
Cool to the touch, all its venom
coiled inside, deadly,
like a steel-scaled serpent. Awaiting your bidding.
You select it’s prey… paper,
tin, or flesh. You lie in wait,
learn that patience is the killer’s
most trustworthy accomplice.
You choose the moment. What. Where. When. Decided.
But the how is everything.
You lift your weapon,
ease it into place, cock it,
to load it, knowing the
satisfying snitch means a bullet is yours to command.
Now, make or break,
it’s all up to you. You
aim knowing a hair either
way means bull’s-eye or miss.
Success or failure. Life or death.
You have to relax,
convince your muscles
not to be tense, not to betray
you. Sight again. Adjust.
Don’t become distracted by the heat of the hunt.
Instincts take over.
You shoot and adrenaline
screams as your target shreds
or the flesh drops. And for
one indescribable moment you are God. "
― Ellen Hopkins , Burned (Burned, #1)
37
" But on that night, Dad staggered in, eyes eerily lit.
The corners of his mouth foaming spit.
His demons planned an overnight stay.
Mom motioned to take the girls away,
hide them in their rooms, safe in their beds.
We closed the doors, covered our heads,
as if blankets could mute the sounds of his blows
or we could silence her screams beneath her pillows.
I hugged the littlest ones close to my chest,
till the beat of my heart lulled them to rest.
Only then did I let myself cry.
Only then did I let myself wonder why
Mom didn't fight back, didn't defend,
didn't confess to family or friend.
Had Dad's demons claimed her soul?
Or was this, as well, another woman's role? "
― Ellen Hopkins , Burned (Burned, #1)
40
" This building disguised as a house of worship, was rather like a hive. A backward hive, for honeybees, at least, have the good sense to worship the female that gifts them all with life. They do not hold their drones in such high esteem. But here, is the hive of hornets, the males flitted flower to flower, pollinating, and stinging and injecting their poison. "
― Ellen Hopkins , Burned (Burned, #1)