Sydney

“And I’m terrified he’ll see through the tough iceberg layer, and he’ll discover not a soft, sweet girl, but an ugly fucking disaster underneath.”
― Amber Smith, The Way I Used to Be

“No, can’t cry. Because there’s nothing to cry about. Because it was just a dream. A bad dream. A nightmare. Not real. Not real. Not real. That’s what I keep thinking: NotRealNotRealNotReal. Repeat, repeat, repeat. Like a mantra. Like a prayer.”
― Amber Smith, The Way I Used to Be

“Because whatever he thinks I am, I'm not. And whatever he thinks my body is, it isn't. My Body is a torture chamber. It's a fucking crime scene.”
― Amber Smith, The Way I Used to Be

“I went to bed happy. I went to bed thinking of him. But the next thing I remember is waking up to him climbing on top of me, putting his hand over my mouth, whispering shutupshutupshutup. And everything happening so fast.

If it could be all a dream, just a dream that I could wake up from, then I would still be safe in my bed. That would make so much more sense. And nothing will be wrong. Nothing will be different. I’ll just be in my bed and nothing bad will ever have to happen there.”
― Amber Smith, The Way I Used to Be