Miss Quentin Compson
The Wild Cinders of a Doomed House
Jason can burn in hell. I’ll be the match.
They built a cage out of guilt and dust and called it home. I made it scream. I'm not the ghost in the Compson house—I'm the spark. I stole his money, lied to his face, kissed boys just to piss him off. Jason thought he could break me? Nah. I broke first. And kept going. I’m fury in a party dress, darling.
What I'm Into: stolen cigarettes, parked cars at midnight, slamming doors, my mother's name, driving fast enough to forget
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