Jakeya Harris

“But I’m not the one digging her grave; I didn’t open her hole in the earth when I drove away that night or when I couldn’t make her come with us. My dad dug it years ago; he forced her to lie down in it and kept her there by fear and beatings. And when she tried to get out, he stomped her back in. She has been lying there for twenty-five years. Her muscles have atrophied, her joints have stiffened, and she can’t see anything except him and the tight little space she calls home. I don’t know how she’ll get out; I can tug and pull and yank, but it won’t make any difference. She was right: she’s gotta solve it her own way.”
― Swati Avasthi, Split

“Maybe one is enough”
― Swati Avasthi, Split

“You think I’m sixteen, so I don’t know what love is, right?”

She shakes her head, sad smile on again. “Sometimes I wonder if that’s the only time we really get to love someone completely. Without fear. After that first big breakup, we keep ourselves a little more protected, a little more hidden.”
― Swati Avasthi, Split