The one clear thing he could recall even thinking throughout the entire mess is that he wished life was like a photograph, something that usually came to mind when his father hit him. That way—he had the power to freeze frame the moments that mattered and photoshop out the people that didn’t. But life wasn’t like that. Life wasn’t put together with still-frames and Polaroid cameras. Life was a movie, one that didn’t really ever end.

They all think he’s a vampire. He thinks they’re all idiots. Also, Edward Cullen can kiss his skinny, pale ass.