Among her spiral notebooks, filled with drawings, lists, and taped-in movie ticket stubs was a note from herself. Lyra had drawn it using colored markers, changing the color at every word and forming the letters carefully. Some had pressed so hard there were dots in the corners where the markers lingered for a little too long. In the colorful words was white-hot anger and frustration.
REMEMBER!!!!!!!
Remember what HE did to you with the footstool!
Remember the way you were treated!
Don't forget how he LIED!!!!!!!
NEVER forget and NEVER forgive!!!!!!!
The extra exclamation points were drawn with passion. There were underlines and multiple colors and circles around capitalized words. Lyra was screaming at herself from the past, begging her to remember and to hold onto her bitterness. Lyra felt absurdly guilty: she didn't remember. She knew the "he" was her brother, and she even vaguely remembered using her markers to make the note, but she had no idea what would have happened with a footstool to make her so angry as to never want to forgive Thomas, ever, for the rest of her life.
No comments:
Post a Comment