This is why people don’t speak up. Because when they do, their life that’s already ruined is completely destroyed with no repercussions to the person who pulled the trigger. They move on. They live. While victims suffer.

“We can play the what-if game for the rest of our lives, but it doesn’t change anything. What’s done is done. We just have to move forward. It doesn’t do anyone any good rehashing the past.”

I know that they have trauma and pain to overcome, but I hope they can find some peace in sharing their truth.

And I slip into a place that’s so dark that I don’t know if I’ll ever find my way out.

Christmas Day always makes me sad. Much like all good things, the holiday season must come to an end. And I’m never ready to say goodbye—to let go of the tinsel and the cheer and the peppermint mocha lattes.

I knew it was all too easy to make sweeping judgements about a situation from the outside. And just how hurtful those judgements could be.

I loved this time of year - the lights, the decotations, the music. It made me happy. For the most part. Although my formative Christmas experiences could have put me off for life, I'd held on determinedly to the joy that the season was supposed to bring, and hoped that one day, I'd find it.

... pressed her fists to her chest, praying that Gram was right, that you could never really lose someone, so long as you held their memory in your heart and tended to it, nurturing it with love.

It started snowing lightly, and Jenny lifted her face to the sky, feeling the flakes touch her forehead and cheeks. everything was going to be all right, she told herself. The world was beautiful, and she had all kinds of options open to her.

I ripped open the packaging and pulled out a journal and a pack of Christmas-themed stickers.
"It's for you to write in." Jamile grinned. "I thought it would be a good idea for you to write down all the things you've loved about Christmas this year so that if you waver about celebrating again in the future you'll have something to remind you that it isn't really all bad."
"Thank you," I swallowed. "What a lovely idea."

The snow flurries had thickened to flakes, swirling in a blur around the streetlight.

"You don't sound mad."
"What? This is my angry voice."
"I think your angry voice might need work. Or you could just stop being angry."

"I love snow, don't you? It's like being wrapped in a great big hug."

"Everyone deserves a Christmas tree in their lives."

"It's good to hear you laugh. Christmas used to be your favorite time of year."
It was true. She'd always loved it. Every smiling Santa, every happy note of music that played in the stores and every sparkly snowflake. She especially loved the snowflakes. They made her think of sleigh rides and snowmen.
To Eva, snow had always seemed magical.

I loved the way he kissed. His kisses were addictive.

She realized she should enjoy the time while it lasted and give back with the same generous spirit. She had much to be grateful for. It was almost christmas, and this year she wasn't going to be alone.

... he stares stright into mye eyes. I want to break the hypnotic trance, but it's honestly as if his gaze imprisons me.

"You're beautiful in battle," said Dimitri. His cold voice carried to me clearly, even above the roar of combat. "Like an avenging angel come to deliver the justice of heaven."

"Scared?" Adrian teased, clasping hold of my hand.
"Of this? Hardly. I mean, on Rose Hathaway Scale of Scariness, this is barely a--"