Very Twisted Things (Briarcrest Academy #3) by Ilsa Madden-Mills

Author:Ilsa Madden-Mills
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Little Dove
Published: 2015-02-27T00:00:00+00:00

THAT NIGHT I crawled into bed with some old photo albums. I flipped through the pictures, looking at the moments captured there. I stroked the lines of my mother’s face. I traced my father’s smile. I wept. Yes, grief was its own fucking species, and I was tired of breathing it. Living it.

Meeting Sebastian and seeing Geoff again … it made me realize that I wanted my world back. And for the first time since the crash, something in me shifted—a desire to just be still and listen to my heart. To my parents.

My father had saved me. Was I going to let it all be for nothing? Is this the life my mother would have wanted for me? To wallow in guilt and sorrow? To give up my dreams?

Adrenaline rushed over me, and my head roared. I clung to it, jumped up and grabbed my violin and ran out to my balcony, too fired up to make it to the patio. I put my bow to the strings and ripped into the opening bars of Fall Out Boys’ “The Phoenix”. I surrendered myself to the heavy beat, letting the music take me out of myself and back into the girl I used to be. Feeling wild and light-headed, I stripped the song down, turning the low notes into maddening and powerful high notes. I twisted it around and made it mine.

I played furiously, letting all the pent-up anguish out, showing my parents that I still had it what it took to be a star.

I didn’t play for grief or loss or even for Sebastian. I played for Violet. Me.

And it was good. Euphoric.

The next morning, I drove to Lyons Place and parked in the front. I got out of my car and went inside on unsteady legs. Mrs. Smythe, a longtime friend of my parents, met me at the door and shook my hand. She’d been the perfect choice to oversee the everyday operations of the hundred-bed facility, and I was glad I’d chosen her.

She gazed at me and patted my hand. “Are you ready? If you are, they’re all waiting for you in the cafeteria.”

I nodded and followed her, muscles rigid, a cold sweat popping out on my skin.

“What do I say?” I gasped out, barely able to talk as we approached a door where I could already hear the low rumble of kids’ voices behind it. My heart was banging in my chest and my tapping was out of control.

“Tell them your story, Violet, or don’t. They pass no judgment. They’ve all got their own demons, and knowing that you’ve been through the same things they have—it means something.”

I lifted my violin from its case. Stroked the soft wood. “May I—may I play for them?”

“Of course, my dear,” she said.

And so, I walked into the cafeteria that I’d helped design. On the back wall was a mural of the lion at Central Park, his big slumbering eyes golden and full of mystery as a comet zoomed overhead. On the right side was a portrait of my parents.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.