""I don't have any friends. You are not my friend. Stop pretending that you fucking care."
Before he can argue, I'm gone. I'm running. I'm out of the house. I'm out of the garden. I'm out of the world. The giants and demons are rising and I'm chasing them. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be sick. Am I hallucinating this? I am not the hero. It's funny because it's true. I begin to laugh, or maybe I'm crying. Maybe I don't care any more. Maybe I'm going to pass out. Maybe I'll die when I'm twenty-seven."
Solitaire, Alice Oseman, part one, chapter 27











