I'm Sick Of Doing Bad Things And

I Just Wanted To Thank You' He Says, His Voice Low. 'a Group Of Scientists Told You That My Genes Were Damaged, That There Was Something Wrong With Me - They Showed You The Test Results That Proved It. And Even I Started To Believe It.' He Touches My Face, His Thumb Skimming My Cheekbone, And His Eyes Are On Mine, Intense And Insistent. 'you Never Believed It,' He Says 'not For A Second. You Always Insisted I Was... I Don't Know, Whole.

How Strange That Something So Simple Could Have Been Instrumental In My Decision To Ruin One Of My Most Relationships And Friendships, And Damage Another.

What Did You Do?” I Mumble. He Is Just A Few Feet Away From Me Now, But Not Close Enough To Hear Me. As He Passes Me He Stretches Out His Hand. He Wraps It Around My Palm And Squeezes. Squeezes, Then Lets Go. His Eyes Are Bloodshot; He Is Pale. “what Did You Do?” This Time The Question Tears From My Throat Like A Growl. I Throw Myself Toward Him, Struggling Against Peter’s Grip, Though His Hands Chafe. “what Did You Do?” I Scream. “you Die, I Die Too” Tobias Looks Over His Shoulder At Me. “i Asked You Not To Do This. You Made Your Decision. These Are The Repercussions.

I Know That I'll Be Writing For Young Adults For A Long Time. Mostly Because I Just Love The Readers And The Teachers And Librarians That I Interact With.

Everyone Has To Blame Something For The Way The World Is.