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"TELL ME ABOUT THE DREAM WHERE WE PULL THE BODIES OUT OF THE LAKE AND DRESS THEM IN WARM CLOTHES AGAIN. HOW IT WAS LATE, AND NO ONE COULD SLEEP, THE HORSES RUNNING UNTIL THEY FORGET THAT THEY ARE HORSES. IT'S NOT LIKE A TREE WHERE THE ROOTS HAVE TO END SOMEWHERE, IT'S MORE LIKE A SONG ON A POLICEMAN'S RADIO, HOW WE ROLLED UP THE CARPET SO WE COULD DANCE, AND THE DAYS WERE BRIGHT RED, AND EVERY TIME WE KISSED THERE WAS ANOTHER APPLE TO SLICE INTO PIECES. LOOK AT THE LIGHT THROUGH THE WINDOWPANE. THAT MEANS IT'S NOON, THAT MEANS WE'RE INCONSOLABLE. TELL ME HOW ALL THIS, AND LOVE TOO, WILL RUIN US. THESE, OUR BODIES, POSSESSED BY LIGHT. TELL ME WE'LL NEVER GET USED TO IT."
SCHEHERAZADE ( RICHARD SIKEN, CRUSH )
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【 S Y N O P S I S 】
THEY'LL EARN THEIR WINGS, ALRIGHT. LIKE ICARUS DID...
when the renowned hannigan grammar school's creative writing teacher disappears without warning, he leaves his students a trail of clues to lead them to the truth about him. yet as the information they collect starts coming together, they find it connects with their school's oldest bit of lore: the haunted wing on campus, and all the children it swallows up and never spits back out.
it's obvious things aren't as they seem in their quaint town of hannigan, new hampshire. and as the building starts spilling its secrets and confusion bows to chaos, every student gets personally involved in the mystery, abandoning their friends for the voices in their head, forgetting all about the demons rumored to walk on campus for the human beings that lurk within it.
just as their school intended.
...WITH A VICTORY THAT KILLS. LIKE ALL VICTORY DOES.
O R
(in which ambition tests the strength of a childhood bond, scissors in hand.)
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【 G E N R E 】
DARK ACADEMIA | COMING-OF-AGE | PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR | MELODRAMA | SUBURBAN GOTHIC | THE OBSESSED ARTIST
【 I N S P I R A T I O N 】
TRUE EVENTS | CAT'S EYE | CRUSH, RICHARD SIKEN | HOLY, ZOLITA | ATONEMENT | HOW TO GET AWAY WITH MURDER | THE QUEEN'S GAMBIT | THE RAVEN CYCLE | PICNIC AT HANGING ROCK
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
OR, IN SIMPLER TERMS, this book is 85% autobiographical, and emotionally and physically exhausting to conceive, plan, and put down. please do not steal my original work, and please do not steal years of pain and cause me more.
━━━━━━━━━ ❂ ━━━━━━━━━
(sixteen—do you remember how it felt hurting the people who loved you and loving those that hurt you? do you remember when the asphalt licked at the cherry-popsicle scrape on your ankles whenever you took a fall? who cleaned it, in the end?)
TO THE LONGEST DEDICATION I'LL EVER WRITE.
TO MAHNOOR. I HOPE THIS CLOSURE WILL SUFFICE, I HOPE THIS GOODBYE MAKES UP FOR ALL THE ONES THAT WERE TAKEN AWAY FROM US. YOU'LL ALWAYS BE MY FAVORITE PERSON.
TO FAYE, THE BEST CO-PLANNER I COULD ASK FOR; A CONSTANT, CONSTANT INSPIRATION, BOTH IN THE WRITING REALM AND OUTSIDE IT.
TO RIPTIDE AND COUGH SYRUP AND STUCK ON THE PUZZLE; A SILLY ODE TO A SILLY THING, I KNOW, BUT YOUR DAD'S CAR'S SUNROOF WAS THE ONE PLACE BOTH OF US FELT LIKE HOME. YOU TRIED A DIFFERENT ICE CREAM FLAVOR EVERY TIME, I ALWAYS STUCK TO BLUEBERRY. I SAID IT WAS FOR SYMBOLISM. TO THOSE VIDEO CLIPS YOU COMPILED AND EDITED TO SONGS THAT REMINDED YOU OF US—FIFTEEN, OR FOUR STEPS AWAY FROM FIFTEEN, GLOWING ON CAMERA, LAYERS UPON LAYERS OF MUGGY AIR AND STOMACH ACHES AWAY.
TO MY FRIENDS. THOSE THAT STAYED, BUT THE ONES THAT LEFT, TOO. COULDN'T HAVE DONE THIS WITHOUT YOU.
TO THE LONGING—THE ONE THAT DEVOURS FROM WITHIN. THE LAMPLIGHT IN THE CORNER, THE TERRACOTTA TILING IT SHINES ON, THE STRAWBERRY JAM THAT DRIPS ON IT. TO LIVING FOR VISUAL BEAUTY, TO LIVING FOR THOSE TWO SECONDS EVERY DAY WHERE OUR SENSES TAKE US HOSTAGE.
TO ENVY AND VISCERAL HATRED, BECAUSE ANGER AND BEAUTY GO HAND IN HAND. TO COMPETITION, TO AMBITION, TO THE SPARK IN US THAT WANTS TO KILL US AND THE GIFT THAT KEEPS ON TAKING. TO A CONSTANT LONGING FOR MORE, FOR THE MOST.
TO EDUCATION! MY MURDERER, MY MUSE. I ONCE FAINTED FOR YOU ON A BRICK FLOOR. I KNOW CHILDREN WHO HAVE DONE WORSE. I SOMETIMES WONDER IF YOU KNOW HOW MANY FAMILIES YOU'VE PLUCKED FROM. TO EDUCATION'S LOVER, MONEY. BECAUSE ONE IS NEVER SEEN WITHOUT THE OTHER.
TO TEACHERS AROUND THE GLOBE, THE ONES THAT TEACH MOTIVATION AND THE ONES THAT TEACH HELL. YOUR POWER IS UNDERESTIMATED. TO MY THREE TEACHERS: A PARENT, A NIGHTMARE, AN UNTAPPED DESIRE.
TO ALL WRITERS. DO YOU ASK YOURSELF WHY YOU DO THIS?
AND TO EVERY SIN I'VE COMMITTED: THIS IS WHERE I COME TO REPENT.
