Fallout Read Online Free Page A

huge
truths
    that I killed her
    and that he knows I killed her
    into one relationship too small to
hold all that sadness.
    And another truth,
    He was there too
    not answering his phone.
    He laughed
    when I laughed and said
    Not today, Hannah. Today you
won’t take us
    away from each other, tear us from
    our place in the sun.
    The darkness presses close. Splats of warm rain smack my bare arms.
    â€œWhat do you say to that, Hannah? Is that what you had in mind when you walked away? Did you hate him that much? Did you hate me that much?”
    I flinch when a bolt of lightning crackles across the sky.
    Dripping wet, I retreat into the apartment and sink onto the mattress. For a long time I listen to the rain punish the world.

Chapter Nine
    Everything is poetry. If I am not onstage, I am practicing. I yell the words into the wind down at the lake. I whisper them into my pillow before I fall asleep.
    Normal is taking a long shower
    loud music cranked so high
    it’s louder than the water splashing
    but all you hear later is
    How about leaving some hot water for the rest of us?
    When you can’t be normal anymore
    your father pounds on the locked
door
    calling your name
    calling your name
    calling your name
    panic stenciled over his heart
    not again not again
    Answer me or I’m breaking down
this door!
    Stepping naked from the shower
    skin reddened from the hot water
    I reach for the towel on the back of
the shaking door and
    yell back, Can’t I have a shower in
peace?
    Step back into the steam.
    The burning rage of the water
    slices over my tender skin.
    I want to pull the words
    back.
    Can’t.
    The poems carry me through the aisles at the bookstore. They keep me company on the bus.
    I have measured my year in firsts
    the first time I came home—after
Hannah died
    the scent of hospital in my hair
    the first bagel pushed into the toaster
    inedible
    tossed into the garbage despite a
hollow ache
    that grew and grew and grew
    and grows even now
    I capture thoughts, single words and endless lines in small notebooks. I even write on the inside of my wrist.
    the first time I showered
    and wondered whether to leave
enough hot water
    for her
    the first time we didn’t buy school
supplies
    because she wasn’t here and I
wasn’t going back
    the first Halloween without costumes
    shutting off the porch light
    closing the drapes
    and hiding upstairs
    my mother and I hushing each other
    as if somehow the ghosts could get
inside
    and discover our stupid lie.
    I shout, weep, bleed the year in poems.
    The first Christmas
    her birthday
    the events getting bigger
    before I notice that
    Hannah is missing things
    she shouldn’t be missing.
    The first time it happened
    was last summer when
    I stopped, mid-sentence
    and almost said aloud
    Saturday won’t work—
    because Hannah won’t be here
    won’t be here to attend the funeral.
    Back when Hannah was so close to
being here
    it seemed impossible she
    was really gone.
    There’s a huge crowd at Antonio’s when the first poet begins. It’s Sam, an old biker with so many tattoos it looks like he’s wearing a long-sleeved shirt under his leather vest. He’s a regular and does a lot of love poems that rhyme.
    When it’s my turn I do the poem about how the world reacts to a suicide. I’ve chopped the first lines and added three others.
    New friends are torn between
    wanting and not wanting
    to have known her.
    What will Ebony think? When I join her at the table she smiles.
    In the second round I let fly with “She Comes Bearing Gifts . ”
    My sister had friends
    once
    lots of them
    before she stopped
    having friends, that is
    long before she stopped
    being.
    Jackie Lisa Tiffany Brandon
    Jordan, Max and Xan
    faded away
    when she stopped taking their calls
    never had them in
    never went out.
    Until that day
    when she met friends for coffee.
    How could such an ordinary thing
    be so heavy with the thousand