Vigyázat! Cselekményleírást tartalmaz.
Such a Pretty Girl 5 csillagozás
They promised Meredith nine years of safety, but only gave her three.
Her father was supposed to be locked up until Meredith turned eighteen. She thought she had time to grow up, get out, and start a new life. But Meredith is only fifteen, and today her father is coming home from prison.
Today her time has run out.
Tagok ajánlása: Hány éves kortól ajánlod?
Kedvencelte 1
Várólistára tette 11
Kívánságlistára tette 5
Kiemelt értékelések
Sajnálatos módon én voltam az első, aki olvasta ezt a molyon, pedig már 7 éve megjelent. Mindenkinek ajánlom, aki tud angolul, és szereti az olyan könyveket, amik szívbe markolnak. Meredith története gyönyörű, fájdalmas emlékekkel teli és megrázó. Nagyon izgalmas, lendületes és könnyen olvasható könyv. Tényleg csak ajánlani tudom! :)
Népszerű idézetek
Why do these people keep getting out? Why aren’t they sentenced to life without parole or put in a mental hospital? I don’t understand this world. What’s the point of obsessing over cholesterol or bike helmets or even cigarettes when the biggest threats to our children are being released back into society every day? Yes, maybe some of them have reformed, but what about the ones who haven’t?
We're not afraid of the dark. Our nightmares were born on sultry, summer afternoons.
“Your father’s coming home early!”
I set the spoon down on my napkin. The puree stains the white tissue. I move the spoon into the bowl and crumple the napkin. It’s hard to breathe.
“That was the attorney. He said the doctors are very pleased with your father’s progress and that his behavior has been exemplary—”
“Well, that’s stupid.” My reaction is rude and raw. “Of course he’s been a model prisoner, Mom. There aren’t any kids to molest in prison.”
“There’s so much to do to get ready,” she says, as if I haven’t spoken. “He’ll need new
clothes and a job, a place to live—”
I straighten. “Not here?”
“Well, no, the attorney says that’s one of the rules of his release,” she says, avoiding my gaze. “He can’t live with us just yet. He’s on some sort of parole or whatever, with a lot of guidelines. I don’t know what they are yet, except…” Her face darkens. “He has to register down at the police department because of his…situation.”
“Good,” I say and the rest tumbles out fast and faster. “Because that’s exactly what he
SHOULD have to do, and you know what? I hope they put his picture online so that everybody will know he’s a child molester because that’s what he is, Mom, just like all those other gross old guys in chat rooms trying to—”
“Stop it!” She turns on me, fierce. “Don’t you ever talk that way about your father! He had a breakdown, do you hear me? He didn’t understand what he was doing. We were stressed, I was going to school and working full-time and you know how af ectionate your father is, you know how much he loves being the center of attention. He wasn’t trying to hurt anyone, he was trying to show you love and maybe get a little in return. He was lonely, Meredith, that’s all. Lonely and needy and he made a mistake.”
“Is that what you really think?” I say, aghast.
“It’s true. It was a mistake.”
“Wrong.” I lunge forward, white-knuckling the edge of the table. “Rape is not a mistake! He did it on purpose, over and over again because he wanted to, because he got of on it—”
“Meredith!” She cuts me of , furious. “Why do you do that? Why do you always have to make things ugly? If I’m willing to forgive and forget, why can’t you? My God, there are thousands of kids out there who’d love to have a father—”
“Well, they can have mine, because I don’t want him and I’m not gonna have anything to do with him no matter WHERE he lives.” I shove my chair from the table. The tomato soup sloshes out of the bowl and drenches the place mat. “I hate him and I hope he dies!” She snatches the place mat and runs it to the sink. “Don’t ever say that again. He’s paid his dues—”
“Three years?” My panic expands. “Mom, people get more jail time for shoplifting! He was supposed to be locked up for nine years so by the time he got out I would have been legal and gone.”
“Oh, I see,” my mother says with a grim sort of triumph. “You want your father to rot in prison and me to be alone for another six years just so you can have your own way. Well, guess what? The world doesn’t always revolve around you.”
My head is spinning. “He molested five kids and those are only the ones who got up the nerve to tell. Who knows how many others are out there?”
“This conversation is over,” she says, walking away.
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