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But what else can I do, other than to plead with you like this? Other than to write down my story, our story, to show you that what you've done . . . to make you realize that what you did wasn't fair, wasn't right.

Lucy Christopher

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Lucy Christopher
Age: 54
Author
Writer
WAL
Stories
Realize
Done
Wasn
Right
Realizing
Writing
Story
Make
Show
Like
Write
Plead
Shows
Fairs
Else
Fair

More quotes by Lucy Christopher

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It was so big, that view. I’ll never remember it properly. How can anyone remember something that big? I don’t think people’s brains are designed for memories like that. They’re designed for things like phone numbers, or the color of someone’s hair. Not hugeness.
Lucy Christopher
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Where are you going? I asked. The middle of nowhere. I thought this was it. Nah. You shook your head. This is just the edge.
Lucy Christopher
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You won't be able to hurt me, or touch me.
Lucy Christopher
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I was surprised at her gentleness, her willingness to give in.
Lucy Christopher
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If there'd been an astronaut on the moon right then, I'm sure I could have seen him. Perhaps he could have looked down and seen me too... the only one who could.
Lucy Christopher
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You looked at me, your eyes huge. You we're like a dog then, waiting for me to throw you a bone . . . waiting for something I could never give you.
Lucy Christopher
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In a moment, when I'm ready, I will turn off this computer and that will be it. This letter will be finished. A part of me doesn't want to stop writing to you, but I need to. For both of us.
Lucy Christopher
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I could hear you, talking to the daffodils and tulips, whispering to the fairies that lived inside their petals. Each separate flower had a different family inside it.
Lucy Christopher
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The people we care for aren't always the one we should
Lucy Christopher
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I chased money, pretended to be someone else to get it. It got easier the longer I did it... but that's the trap, see? When the deadness gets easier, you know you're sinking deeper, becoming dead yourself.
Lucy Christopher
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It was like I’d stepped out into an afterlife. Only there were no angels.
Lucy Christopher
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How would she find her herd? How would she find you?
Lucy Christopher
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I love you, you said, simple as anything.
Lucy Christopher
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Doesn't that hurt? I said. Yep. How do you keep them in there? I'm stubborn. You grinned. Stubborn as a waddywood. And anyway, pain means it's healing. Not always.
Lucy Christopher
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I remember that feeling of skin. It's strange to remember touch more than thought. But my fingers still tingle with it.
Lucy Christopher
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You're right, he's a killer, you said. A rooster with some serious issues.
Lucy Christopher
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Those blue, blue eyes, icy blue, looking back at me as if I could warm them up. They’re pretty powerful, you know, those eyes, pretty beautiful, too.
Lucy Christopher
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I didn’t look back, but I knew you were still watching. It probably sounds weird, but I could just feel it. The hairs on my neck bristled when you blinked.
Lucy Christopher
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Had you been lying all along? Mum gently stroked my hair. I whispered into her shoulder. “I can’t go back. Not yet. I can’t leave.” And she held my head tight to her chest and wrapped her arms around me. “You don’t have to,” she said, rocking me. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, not anymore.” And I cried.
Lucy Christopher
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I didn’t want the person standing there, beside the bed, to have the same face I’d found so attractive at the airport. But you were there all right: the blue eyes, blondish hair, and tiny scar. Only you didn’t look beautiful this time. Just evil.
Lucy Christopher