” Sir John clutched at the table with both hands. ” She said. The infant’s body, now missing its pulverized head, was still twitching among the blood-soaked ruins of corpses. And now, when you come at last, you bring me this grandfather, and you dare to tell me I am like him. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. Do you think that it makes for happiness to force oneself into the extravagant belief that love is the only thing in the world worth having, and to sacrifice for it independence, self-respect, one’s whole scheme of life.
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