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Authors: Ellen Hopkins

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W
alking with the Monster

Life

was radical

right after I met

the monster.

Later, life

became

harder,

complicated.

Ultimately,

a living

hell,

like swimming

against a riptide,

walking

the wrong

direction in the fast

lane of the freeway,

waking

from sweetest

dreams to find yourself

in the middle of a

nightmare.

Y
ou Know My Story

Don’t you? All about

my dive

into the lair of the monster

drug some people call crank.

Crystal. Tina. Ice.

How a summer visit

to my dad sent me

into

the arms of a boy—a

hot-bodied hunk, my

very first love, who led

me down the path to

insanity.

How I came home

no longer

Kristina Georgia

Snow, gifted high

school junior, total

dweeb, and

perfect

daughter, but

instead a stranger

who called herself Bree.

How, no matter

how hard

Kristina

fought her, Bree

was stronger, brighter,

better equipped to deal

with a world where

everything moved at light

speed, everyone mired

in ego. Where “everyday”

became

another word

for making love with

the monster.

I
t Wasn’t a Long Process

I went to my dad’s in June, met Adam

  the very first day. It took some time

    to pry him from his girlfriend’s grasp.

      But within two weeks, he introduced

        me to the monster. One time was all

          it took to want more. It’s a roller-

            coaster ride. Catch the downhill

              thrill, you want to ride again,

                enough to endure the long,

                  hard climb back up again.

                  In days, I was hooked on

                  Adam, tobacco, and meth,

                in no particular order. But

               all summer vacations must

              end. I had to come home to

              Reno. And all my new bad

             habits came with me. It was

            a hella speed bump, oh yeah.

            Until I hurt for it, I believed

            I could leave the crystal behind.

            But the crash-and-burn was more

            than I could take. When the jet landed,

             I was still buzzed from a good-bye binge.

              My family crowded round me at the airport,

               discussing summer plans and celebration dinners,

                and all I wanted to do was skip off for another snort.

                 Mom kept trying to feed me. My stepfather, Scott, kept

                  trying to ask questions about my visit with Dad. My

                   big sister, Leigh, wanted to talk about her new girlfriend,

                    and my little brother, Jake, kept going on about soccer.

                     It didn’t take long to figure out I was in serious trouble.

N
ot the Kind of Trouble

You might think I’m

talking about. I was pretty

sure I could get away with

B.S.ing Mom and Scott.

I’d always been such a good

girl, they wouldn’t make the

jump to “bad” too quickly.

Especially not if I stayed cool.

I wasn’t worried about

getting busted at school

or on the street. I’d only just

begun my walk with the monster.

I still had meat on my bones,

the teeth still looked good.

I didn’t stutter yet. My mouth

could still keep up with my brain.

No, the main thing I worried

about was how I could score

there, at home. I’d never even

experimented with pot, let alone

meth. Where could I go?

Who could I trust with my

money, my secrets? I couldn’t

ask Leigh. She was the prettiest

lesbian you’ve ever seen. But

to my knowledge she had

never used anything stronger

than a hearty glass of wine.

Not Sarah, my best friend since

fourth grade, or any of my

old crowd, all of whom lived by

the code of the D.A.R.E. pledge.

I really didn’t need to worry,

of course. All I had to do

was leave things up to Bree,

the goddess of persuasion.

B
efore I Continue

I just want to remind you

that turning into Bree

was a conscious decision

on my part. I never really

liked Kristina that much.

Oh, some things about her

were pretty cool—how she

was loyal to her family

and friends. How she loved

easily. How she was good

at any and all things artistic.

But she was such a brain,

with no sense of fashion

or any idea how to have fun.

So when fun presented

itself, I decided someone

new would have to take charge.

That someone was Bree.

I chose her name (not sure where

I got it), chose when to become her.

What I didn’t expect was discovering

she had always been there, inside of me.

How could Kristina and Bree

live inside of one person?

How could two such different halves

make up the whole of me?

How could Bree have possibly survived,

stuck in Kristina’s daily existence?

T
he Funny Thing Was

Bree solved the meth dilemma on a family

trip to Wild Waters, Scott’s annual

company picnic. Sarah came

along to spend time with

Kristina. But Bree

had other things

in mind.

 

The first was

a truly gorgeous

lifeguard. Turned out

Brendan wasn’t so pretty

on the inside, but even Bree, who

thrived on intuition, was clueless. Hard

on the make, Brendan shared booze, cigarettes.

 

But one guy wasn’t quite enough. I

also ran into Chase Wagner that

day. His outside wasn’t as

attractive, but inside he

was fine. Of course,

I didn’ t know

that yet.

 

I found out

soon enough that

both Chase and Brendan

knew the score—and both

were interested in me. Brendan

only wanted sex; Chase offered love.

Either way, I had my path to the monster.

 

Later, I discovered that Robyn, my

old friend Trent’s sister (not to

mention an “in” cheerleader),

tweaked to stay thin

and “pep up.” She

taught me how

to smoke it.

 

It didn’t take

long to immerse

myself in the lifestyle,

Didn’t take long for school

to go to shit; for friendships and

dedication to family to falter. Didn’t

take long to become a slave to the monster.

M
y Mom and Stepfather

Tried to stop me before

it all went completely wrong.

Kristina spent almost a whole

year GUFN—grounded

until further notice.

But Bree was really good

at prying open windows

at night, lying with a straight

face, denying she had

slipped so far downhill.

Nothing slowed me down.

Not losing my virginity

to Brendan’s rape. Not

spending a few days

in juvenile hall.

The only thing that kept

me sane was Chase’s love,

despite all I put him through.

He even swore to love me

when I told him I was pregnant.

Pregnant. And Brendan

was the father. Bree considered

abortion. Exorcism. Kristina

understood the baby was not

the demon. His father was.

But you know this part

of the story. You followed

me on my journey through

the monster’s territory.

We wound up here.

Who am I now, three

months after I left you,

standing on the deck

with me, listening to my

new baby, crying inside?

I told you then, the monster

is a way of life, one it’s

difficult to leave behind,

no matter how hard you try.

I have tried, really I have.

Maybe if Chase had stayed

with me, instead of running

off to California, in search

of his dreams. Then again,

I told him to go.

Maybe if I had dreams

of my own to run off in

search of. I did once.

But now I have no plans

for a perfect tomorrow.

All I have is today.

T
for Today

I’d really like to tell you I have a nice little place with

a white picket fence, flowers in the garden, and Winnie-

the-Pooh, Eeyore, and Tigger, too, on baby blue nursery

walls. I’d like to inform you that I am on a fast track to

a college degree and a career in computer animation—

something I’ve aimed for, ever since I found out I could

draw. I’d love to let

you know I left the

monster screaming

in my dust, shut my

ears, scrambled back

to my family, back to

my baby, my heart. I

could tell you those

things, but they’d be

lies—nothing new for

me, true. But if all I

wrote was lies, you

wouldn’t really know

my story. I want you

to know. Not a day

passes when I don’t

think about getting

high. Strung. Getting

out of this deep well

of monotony I’m

slowly drowning in.

I
Was a Junior

When I had Hunter,

a semester away from

early graduation and a hell

of a lot farther than that

away from independence.

To find freedom that even

the magic number eighteen

can’t buy, I need

a job. To get that, I need

a diploma, or at least a GED.

I have no choice but to live

at home, under the prying

eyes of my mom and Scott.

I’ll help watch the baby

until you finish school,

is Mom’s deal.
If you go on to

college, the two of you

can stay as long as you like.

It’s a pretty good arrangement,

mostly because I know jack

about babies. Mom’s expertise

comes in handy, especially

in the middle of the night.

More than once, she has shaken

me awake.
Hunter’s crying.

I’ll change him. You feed him.

Who knew babies could

be so obnoxious, wanting

to eat at all hours, that is?

Most of the time, my nipples

feel like puppy chew toys.

Breast-feeding isn’t easy. But you

want to give him a good start.

A good, healthy start. I know

that, of course, and figure

I owe him at least that much.

Still, I wake up every morning

exhausted, wondering

how I can make it through

the day, let alone how I’ll

manage to study for my GED.

I try to avoid mirrors. I gained

forty pounds with my pregnancy,

and Hunter only weighed in at

seven pounds, eleven ounces.

Minus placenta, water, etcetera,

that leaves about twenty pounds

of belly flab, jelly thighs,

and chipmunk cheeks I need

to lose before feeling positive

about how I look again.

And until I do that, I know

I’ll never find someone new to love.

S
o Maybe It Will Come

As no surprise to you that lately

I have been hearing the plea

of the monster, distant

at first but creeping closer.

Louder.
Come back to me,

Kristina. Hurry back, Bree.

I closed my ears for a long

while, pleaded with it to please

shut up, please go away,

please leave me alone.

But I’m starting to come

around. Maybe a short

(and I mean no long-term

commitments!) stroll

with the monster might

slim me down, rev me up

and offer the impetus to slip

into my future, better equipped

to deal with the mindless

tedium that is my life.

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