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Back Little Universes Save as PDF
Chapters (63)
  1. Title Page
  2. Copyright Notice
  3. Dedication
  4. Epigraph
  5. Part 1
  6. Mae
  7. Hannah
  8. 1
  9. 2
  10. 3
  11. 4
  12. 5
  13. 6
  14. 7
  15. 8
  16. 9
  17. 10
  18. 11
  19. 12
  20. 13
  21. 14
  22. 15
  23. 16
  24. 17
  25. 18
  26. 19
  27. 20
  28. 21
  29. 22
  30. 23
  31. 24
  32. Part 2
  33. 25
  34. 26
  35. 27
  36. 28
  37. 29
  38. 30
  39. 31
  40. 32
  41. 33
  42. 34
  43. 35
  44. 36
  45. 37
  46. 38
  47. Part 3
  48. 39
  49. 40
  50. 41
  51. 42
  52. 43
  53. 44
  54. 45
  55. 46
  56. 47
  57. 48
  58. Epilogue
  59. Mental Health Resources
  60. Acknowledgments
  61. DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
  62. About the Author
  63. Newsletter Sign-up

“What else am I going to do, Nah?” Her hand grips the doorway. “I don’t have a Micah to come hold me and kiss me and love me. The only person I have is you, and you’re not here, not really. Not when you’re on that stuff. So what am I supposed to do?”

We stare at each other, surrounded by my mother’s scent. Let the tigers come with their claws.

“You didn’t even cry,” I snarl.

As soon as I say it, I wish I hadn’t.

Her blue eyes darken a little. Like clouds covering the sun.

I don’t care. I really, really don’t fucking care. She is the enemy. The one who will try to keep me from floating and I want to fucking float, okay, I want to go away. And I want her to go away, too, I want to be on my planet, alone.

“I’m going to bed,” I say.

She zips the bags shut. Won’t look at me. “My cell’s on. If you need me.”

Mae goes, and maybe I should feel bad about snapping at her, but I don’t. Not really. I’m starting not to feel bad about anything, which is nice. I see why they call them painkillers. They really do kill the pain. Murder it.

I take Mom’s brush to my room and set it beside a candle, like it’s a relic. I don’t know whether or not I want them to be found. I hate the idea of them being separated. Dying alone. So if they were both in the grave, then maybe it meant they were together until the end.

I’ve imagined the wave so many times. In one version, Mom and Dad are together at the beach. They hold on to each other as the water covers them. They die in each other’s arms. But I know that isn’t possible. Mae said the water was too strong. Something about force and acceleration. Nerd stuff. I don’t know.

In another version, they’re at their bed-and-breakfast, and they make it to the roof, but it’s not high enough and the water sweeps them away. Or they cling to palm trees that topple over. Or a piece of metal decapitates them. Or a floating car crushes them.

There are so many ways to die.

I lie back down on the rug in corpse pose and stare at the ceiling. Maybe it’s my imagination, but the crack seems bigger.

i ignored the last call I got from my dad because i was watching a movie on TV.

Kitchen Cupboard

4302 Seaview Lane

Venice, CA

9

Hannah

My parents have been dead for one week.

I am running out of Vicodin.

Fuck my fucking life.