“I'm sorry you don't get it, Mom. Sometimes I don't get why I do the things I do. I just know I wake up every morning and wish I was dead.”

“I got singled out. I don't know why. Why do people always target me? Is it because I'm short and they figure I can't fight back? They're right, I can't, but it's not because I'm vertically challenged.”

“Mom's eyes blazed. "Are you sleeping with her?"Oh, god. Did we have to do this here? Now? "Well, actually," I smirked, "we don't get a lot of sleep.”

“I've never been afraid of the dark. I'm more afraid of the day, of people. I love the night. The solitude. Well, I don't love it. I don't feel love. I hate people, so I hope when I get there it isn't crowded. I hope the light is a momentary phenomenon and the other side is completely black. And silent.”

“How does he do it? Live. With the fear of death every day. I don't fear death as much as I fear the thought of living.”

“I hear you. I just don't believe a word you say.”

“Nick!' I flinch. 'What?' Jo widens her eyes at Mom. 'Forget it, Jo,' Mom says. 'He's not ready.''Yes, I am,' I tell her. 'I know I don't have a dad. Kenny DiPoto doesn't have a dad either because his dad got knifed in jail.''Geezus,' Jo breathes. 'What kind of neighbourhood is this?”