A Page in The Dead Tossed waves Book
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishVoice Age
Young Adult (18-35)Accents
Indian (Hinglish)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
something I am not. You went back for him, he says. Why won't you bill you the best off yourself? Because that's not who I am, I tell him adamantly. My heart trips for a moment, as I wonder if I could ever bill you him if I could see myself through his eyes if someone other than catcher could make me feel worth something. But instead I shake my head. Then tell me who you are. He is this closer. I can feel the edges off him in the space between us. I can't think with him so close with his words encircling us, pulling has tighter together. I think about opening my mouth and boring everything out. How scared, Um, how terrifying it is to have lost my mother on wonder if she's still okay. Toe have had everything in my life shift so fast that I still real from it every morning on every night and how I am worried that I will never really know who I am on what I want, that I will always be the girl messing everything up, the awkward one on the fingers, wanting something more but too afraid to do anything about it. I don't know who I am anymore, I whisper. He raises the distance between us until my head buzzes. Yes, you do, he says, his voice hovering over me on around me, as if we can occupy van space together. I closed my eyes and wait for him. My skin tingles with want, but he doesn't kiss me. Not the way capture did. He leans against me until our lips barely pressed together our mouths open every part off us, twinning through our breaths. I want to press harder. I want him to pull me tighter, but he doesn't. They just stand there, barely touching on. Then he belts from tone. Begin toe clan. My eyes go wide and I stumbled backward. I collapse hand over my mouth on as memories off catch Islam into me. His smell, the sound of his voice, the field off his skin undermine. I would forget it all off it. I would let Elia's raise it all. Shame and anger rule in my head on, as if he can see it all doubling through me as if he can smell my regret. His face hardens. He turns on strides back of the beach. I'm sorry. I call after him, but he doesn't respond. And I chase him and tried to grab him, but he pushes off my touch.