“A person's innocence is precious and beautiful and when you share that piece of yourself, in my opinion, it's supposed to mean something.”

“Thank you,” I whisper. “This means so much to me.” Slowly, even though he doesn't realize it, Elijah is giving me so much than he ever could and he's not even spending money. He's using time. Some people think time is a waste. But not to me. Time is a gift. Something to be treasured and never taken for granted. Something that's more precious than any dollar a person could spend. Why? Because you never know how much time a person has left.It can be taken away in an instant.In a heartbeat.And I'm determined to never waste a second of mine.”

“Most girls my age don't appreciate this kind of music. In my opinion, this is real music. It's haunting, poetic, and carefully-crafted. Not that techno teeny bopper crap that only sounds good because of all the machines the record label uses to make it.”

“Here's what bothers me about adults. They say we're supposed to be the bigger person and lie there like road kill while the bullies repeatedly run us over. That we're saying more by taking the abuse and staying silent, than sticking up for ourselves. I don't see it that way.”

“He mouths something. Six words. Six words that seem too impossible to be true. Six words that bleed hope into my soul. Six words. “You’re not crazy. I love you.”

“I would have, Damien! I would have! I would have rather died a thousand painful, torturous deaths than watch you die one! I would have given up anything to go back to that day and relive it!” Damien takes a step back as I run shaky fingers through my hair. I lower my voice and cry, “When you died, I thought I lost everything. I was empty. Numb inside. And the pain...the pain of feeling my heart break over and over again was never ending. I'm sorry about what happened. I think you know that. But what I think you know more than anything is you haunting me and reminding me of what you sacrificed is the most mean-spirited thing you've ever done.” More tears well in my eyes, and I suck them back trying to be strong. “The Damien, I knew wouldn't want this for me. He wouldn't want me to live the rest of my life, loving his ghost.My Damien was too proud, good, and selfless for that.” The one thing that I forgot was that in this dream, this is not my Damien. He's a sinister, sick, and twisted version of the boy I loved. And I know this when he lunges at me, wraps both of his hands around my neck, cuts off the air in my throat, and whispers in a deadly voice, “Love me.” “No!” I bolt upright in my bed choking on air. “No!” I try to steady my breathing, but I'm too shaken up to concentrate”

“He strangles me, squeezing my lungs with his smile, his words, and his beautiful face. He make me shiver with delight, feel safe, and sets my heart ablaze with a passionate fire that I can’t put out.”