Identity

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She disappears from my sight, and I open my mouth to argue, but she interrupts like she can see me, which is freaky. If I had read it per chapter I probably would have liked it a lot more because the storyline would not have been as important. In a matter of a few months, we went from sitting in the basement, shooting videos, to standing in front of screaming crowds. Luckily, no one’s around to witness my outburst because I surely would have caused unwanted attention on myself. Also, it seems like she only cares about her boyfriend; she’s like “oh Amelia and Elijah are my besties, I love them, I miss them” but then she only focuses on Leo.

We haven’t gotten justice yet, and every day that they’re not found, it feels more impossible to find them. My brain tells me that we won’t ever find them, that they’ll be free to live the rest of their lives how they please—just how my dad was supposed to. I’m not sure if I’m grateful for that, seeing that he asked me such a basic question and I’m having trouble forming words. She despises social interaction, feeling more comfortable in the walls of her bedroom with the only people she can tolerate—the ones in the books she reads.

Yes,” Amelia says, extending her arm out to her brother as she grabs the chocolate out of his hands. Both characters are broken in a way that neither of them can navigate, living in a darkness that no one else seems to understand. I’m trying to distract myself from the feeling of a thousand butterflies in my stomach, but it’s very hard when a literal superstar is standing in front of me, looking very confused. Identity is a beautifully written story about two broken kids finding happiness and life in each other. I imagine them being in the city, in a mansion, with butlers and maids, having people drive them all around town.

I’m appreciative that he’s trying to shine a light on my dad’s death, but he doesn’t understand how he died. They walked away from the scene without a single scratch, living in this world like they hadn’t killed an innocent man. Every time I picked up this book, I would force myself to read one chapter and it would put me in a bad mood for days. The multiple pages that I’ve thrown out with random lines scribbled down in my horrible chicken scratch had none of the emotion that I’m used to writing with.putting corny ass lines as dialogue so that the audience annotates it failed because rlly we annotate it bc it is corny and dumb.

A forbidden, enemies-to-lovers romance with so much steam that I had to place it down a couple of times before resuming. Like I get the author’s intention, trying to make him a funny, chill, moody guy but that went terribly. Sure, I hook up with girls, flirt with them a bit, smash, a few texts back and forth, and then I leave.When you become a New York Times bestselling author, remember your roots and all the people who have adored and supported you from the start (and me! The author did such a beautiful job of portraying mental illness in this book and shows you that you matter, and you are not alone.