"More than a stunning debut. It is the announcement of a bold new literary voice"
—Stephen Chbosky, author of The Perks of Being a Wallflower

I still remember when you were lying catatonic in a hospital bed moments away from death, but I don’t dwell on seeing you under the scratchy sheets with the smell of iodine and beeping of the machines keeping you alive, because I know you don’t want to be thought of that way. Instead, I chose to focus on the moments that meant something, the moments that mattered. I choose to think of the times we sat in our big backyard and you’d watch the browning leaves of our oak tree slowly find their way to the grass below, as I scaled its branches. Or hot summer days with instant pink lemonade mix slowly dissolving into the icy pitches of water as condensation gathered on its surface. I know that I can never forget the slow and steady drip of the IV, but that’s not who you were and that’s not how I chose to remember you.