This is what a place like this does to you. It makes you put words in the beaks of chickens.

Madison sparkled like the words on her oversized chest. There was glitter embedded in her eye shadow, in her lip gloss, in her nail polish, hanging from her ears in shoulder grazing hoops, dangling from her wrists in blingy bracelets. If the lights went out in the hallway, she could light it up like a human disco ball.

You say wicked like it’s a good thing.

Be brave. Be angry. Don't trust anyone.

Those who have sacrificed always have the most to lose.

I hate to break it to you, but just because someone has pretty hair and a good skin tone and a crown instead of a pointy hat doesn’t mean she’s not the baddest bitch this side of the emerald city.