I am my father's scream

Joel Evans, as Larry, in The Lesser Blessed, by Anita Doron (2012)

I see a therapist who asks me to draw how I see myself. I hand in a picture of a forest.
He looks closely, says there is no one. I say, “Look, there. I am already buried.” (p. 9*)

“This town sucks. I mean, if this town were a fart, I wouldn’t even stop to sniff it. I’d just keep on walking.” (p. 17*)

Girls talked about her in hushed tones and boys dragged her name out real slow, but to me she was like the first crocus of spring, a gift for everyone. (pp. 27-28*)

I’d be a liar if I told you he didn’t scare me, but something about guys like Darcy always intrigued me. I knew he had had his share of drugs, booze and fights. He was everything I wasn’t. He was bad news, but still... (p. 32*)

“You ever do drugs before?”
“Nope.”
“You wanna?” he said, a grin widening across his face.
Every fibre in my body, every molecule, every atom was screaming no, but instead I said, “Sure.” (p. 33*)

Once I had Johnny for a friend, I didn’t hang around home much, just to say hi and do chores. My mom didn’t seem to mind. She was studying a lot for her tests and we pretty well came and went as we pleased. She was happy ’cause Jed was coming to town and that was fine with me. I liked hanging around Johnny. He took good care of me. (p. 38*)

Johnny’s hair had fallen over his forehead. He was handsome, but in a lost sort of way. He could grow a beard if he wanted to and some days he didn’t shave. Sometimes when we were stoned I’d see him staring at me with those glittering blue eyes of his.
“If I could perform the autopsy on him,” I thought, “I’d steal his eyes.” (p. 41*)

What he doesn’t tell me is that murder is a song. A smooth and silent hymn. One I keep inside. For I was raised by butchers. (p. 62*)

I knew that this was my chance to completely give Juliet something that was mine so much that I would be nothing else. I closed my eyes and decided to let the story lead. I was just the voice, and I knew the story would tell itself. (p. 75*)
* sur ma liseuse

Richard Van Camp - The Lesser Blessed (Douglas & McIntyre, 1996)