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But, Dad!

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

on the right hand side?

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

my hands, Small Bear.

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

My right is here.

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

My left is there.

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

Or am I wrong?

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

Now could that be?

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

Left hand...? Right hand...?

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

Let me see...

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

left hand side...

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

right hand side.

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

Thank you, Pop!

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

Now I can ride it!

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

lessons for me.

The Bike Lesson - Stan Berenstain

'Eimear McBride is that old-fashioned thing, a genius...This book is hard to read for the best reasons: everything about it is intense and difficult and hard-won. The result is an instant classic—an account of Irish girlhood to be set alongside O'Brien's _The Country Girls_ for emotional accuracy and verve, and the sense of its overwhelming necessity. _A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing_ is completely modern in its sensibility and completely old-fashioned in the way it triumphantly ignores the needs of the book market. It took nine years, apparently, to find a publisher.'

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

'Remarkable...If every book was as intense as this, reading literature would be even more of a minority pursuit than it is already...It's hard to imagine another narrative that would justify this way of telling, but perhaps McBride can build another style from scratch for another style of story. That's a project for another day, when this little book is famous.'

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

'Unforgettable...I was repeatedly (as the author puts it) "gob impressed". Writing of this quality is rare and deserves a wide readership...Eimear McBride is a writer of remarkable power and originality.'

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

'Eimear McBride's ferociously intense and stylistically challenging account of a young girl's coming-of-age in rural Ireland is an astonishing literary debut...bracingly alive with sardonic humour and brilliantly realised set-pieces...A remarkable achievement.'

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

'This is a simply brilliant book...emotionally raw and at the same time technically astounding. McBride's prose is as haunting and moving as music, and the love story at the heart of the novel—between a sister and brother—as true and wrenching as any in literature. I can't recommend it highly enough.'

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

'McBride's story-telling is heartfelt and frank and the experience of reading her work is unforgettable.'

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

'The author's use of language is so unique, so instantly inimitable that McBridean deserves to be an adjective.'

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

'This book will arouse powerful emotions in anyone who accords it the respect of reading with attention.'

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

'McBride's Joycean inventiveness depicts the girl's entire self, the prose cutting through to her feelings, impressions, thoughts and half-thoughts. The short, choppy sentences, and the novel's bleak vision are also reminiscent of Samuel Beckett.'

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Eimear McBride grew up in the west of Ireland. She moved to London aged seventeen to study at The Drama Centre. _A Girl Is a Half-Formed Thing_ is her first novel.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright above, no part of this publication shall be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior permission of both the copyright owner and the publisher of this book.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

First published in the United Kingdom by Galley Beggar Press, 2013.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

This edition published in Australia by The Text Publishing Company, 2013.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

For you. You'll soon. You'll give her name. In the stitches of her skin she'll wear your say. Mammy me? Yes you. Bounce the bed, I'd say. I'd say that's what you did. Then lay you down. They cut you round. Wait and hour and day.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Walking up corridors up the stairs. Are you alright? Will you sit, he says. No. I want she says. I want to see my son. Smell from dettol through her skin. Mops diamond floor tiles all as strong. All the burn your eyes out if you had some. Her heart going pat. Going dum dum dum. Don't mind me she's going to your room. See the. Jesus. What have they done? Jesus. Bile for. Tidals burn. Ssssh. All over. Mother. She cries. Oh no. Oh no no no.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

I know. The thing wrong. It's a. It is called. Nosebleeds, head aches. Where you can't hold. Fall mugs and dinner plates she says clear up. Ah young he says give the child a break. Fall off swings. Can't or. Grip well. Slipping in the muck. Bang your. Poor head wrapped up white and the blood come through. She feel the sick of that. Little boy head. Shush.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

She saw it first when you couldn't open your eye. Don't wink so long wind'll change and you'll stay that way. I'm not Mammy. It's got stuck. She pull it open. Hold it up. I can't it's all fall down.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

And now Holy Family on a Saturday night. He is leaning you are sleeping she the chair me whirlabout. Listen in to doctor chat. We done the best we could. There really wasn't much. It's all through his brain like the roots of trees. Sorry. Don't say. That. He's running out I'm afraid. I'm afraid he's running down. You should take him home, enjoy him while you can. He's not. He is. Can't you operate again? We can't. Shush. Something? Chemo then. We'll have a go at that.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Gethsemane dear Lord hear our prayer our. Please. Intercession. Night in hospital beds. Faces on the candlewick. Lino in the knees. Please don't God take. Our. Holy Mary mother of all, humbly we beseech thee.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

You white-faced feel the needle go in. Feel fat juicy poison poison young boy skin. In your arteries. Eyeballs. Spine hands legs. Puke it cells up all day long. No Mammy don't let them.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Weeks for you. Weeks it. Scared and bald and wet the bed. Dark trees outside for me when it weather rains. She praying in a coat until I am froze. Hard chapel kneelers bare-kneed real repents. She does. And our father was. Where? Somewhere there. I think.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

There's good news and bad news. It's shrunk. He's saved. He's not. He'll never be. So like it lump it a short breath's what you've got. Jesus in her blood that minute. Rejoice sacred heart of Christ. But we'll never be rid do you understand? he says. Shush now she says shush.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Your pink face make that sitting up the best thing she's ever done. Watching you going growing hair. Scabby over slices where scalpels were. Don't look. Telling what's the time and where you are. Makes her happy. Makes our father. Walk down corridors alone.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

He says I can't be waiting for it all the time. I'd give my eyes to fix him but. The heart cannot be wrung and wrung. And she like calmest Virgin Mary sitting on the bed. Hands warming up her sides for. What're you saying? Breath. Going? Leaving? But he's just stopped dying. This one's to come. Please don't no I won't stop you. Could never make you do a thing. You'll support us. Aren't you great? Oh the house is mine. It's for the best. For who you me? Board my body up. I'm not for loving. Anymore. I'll live for housework. Dressing kids. And you for mortgage new shoes spuds. Can't live short hope but gas bills long and paid on time too. Oh so kind. Aren't you the fine shape of a man.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

He left her with a fifty pound note. Take care! Stroke combing full untidied hair. Thinking I think of you and me. Our empty spaces where fathers should be. Whenabouts we might find them and what we'd do to fill them up.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

But didn't time continue still. Where's Daddy? Gone. Why's that? Just is. And yelp she at the strength growing to your tips. Poke belly of baby that's kicking is me. Full in myself. Bustling hatchery. And I loved swimming to your touch. Lay on the lining for your strokes for you secret pressed hello's. Show my red foot. Look. Look there. Baby when you're born I pick your name. See you and me were busy with each other long before I came.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

She was careful of you. Saying let's take it slow. Mind your head dear heart. And her guts said Thank God. For her gasp of air. For this grant of Nurse I will. Learning you Our Fathers art. And when you slept I lulled in joyful mysteries glorious until I kingdom come. Mucus stogging up my nose. Scream to rupture day. Fatty snorting like a creature. A vinegar world I smelled. There now a girleen isn't she great. Bawling. Oh Ho. Now you're safe. But I saw less with these flesh eyes. Outside almost without sight. She, asking after and I'm all fine. Hand on my head. Her hand on my back. Dividing from the sweet of mother flesh that could not take me in again. I curled there learning limb from limb. Curdled under hot lamps. Sorrow lapped. I'm so glad your brother's lived. That he'll see you. It'll all be. But. Something's coming. Wiping off my begans. Wiping all my every time. I struggle up to. I struggle from. The smell of milk now. Going dim. Going blank. Going white.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Two me. Four you five or so. I falling. Reel table leg to stool. Grub face into her cushions. Squeal. Baby full of snot and tears. You squeeze on my sides just a bit. I retch up awful tickle giggs. Beyond stopping jig and flop around. I fall crack something. My head banged. Oop. Trouble for you. But. Quick the world rushed out like waters. Slap of. Slap of everywhere smells kitchen powder perfume soap of hedges in the winter dogs and sawdust on a butcher's floor. New. Not new. I remember. Patterned in my brain. I feel the carpet under that scratch me when you drag my leg. I know its gold and turquoise coils. Flowers on. Leaves for green. The couch leg I drawn red biro in the grain. Digging. Singing long long ago in the woods of Gartnamona I heard a blackbird singing in a blackthorn tree. Oh. That's come from. Come from where? I can't remember any before.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

You bent over. Don't cry don't cry. Trot it out. I think I might. Don't. Whinge get beats for you or me. Wooden spoon worse than hands or clip on the ear. I'll give you something to cry about. Making a holy show with that big lip. Stop your gurning. Sorry Mammy. I won't cry so, though something's happen in my head. I woke up. And stare at your brown hair. Soft boyish bob on your round face. Must be the washing brushing combing of it. Attentive loving mother. I remember. I have seen. Such a pride and joy in him. Those doctors nurses said it would not. Dead in follicle dead in root. But there it is she says sprigging away. Don't pull it you, giving slap hand for me.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

I flee from washing brushing. Get the teeth in good and deep. Too much. That knuckling scrubbing. Like soap suds scalp scratched in. She'll work her arms out. No lice here. No disease. No psoriasis or dandruff for many miles to see.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

I'll jump the bath when she has me. Running with my headful of shampoo shouting no Mammy no no no. Cold chest where water hits windscreen belly in the rain. Down those stairs fast as I can. Shampoo on my forehead. In my eyes. Nettle them. Mammy. Yelling Lady you come back or you'll get what for. A mad goat I'll be. Rubbing bubbles. Worse and worse and hotter like mints I'll turn my nose at. Always get me. In the hall. You by wormy bit of hair. Lug me rubbing ankle skin up the stairs. She in suddy ocean. You just settle down. Quicker over the quicker's done. I am boldness incarnate, little madam little miss. Put back your head I'll wash it down and off your face. Haaaa wat. Blow spit. Thhh. Bubbles. Muckle face with a cloth. There for your bubbles. Eejit. Don't you want hair like your brother's? See that lovely shiny bright. I do. Out in handfuls but two years on – as good as you. Doctors nurses. So now so. For little limp and tunnel vision aren't bad when you are well.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Teeth is though. Worse you than me. All rotted yours. Nothing even like milk. Just keep an eye it's normal after all he's had. His news'll come in and should be fine. Not black, she said and threw them out. Spoiled not washed or washed enough. And would not keep them in a matchstick box. Mine are safe. Don't touch. Safely in my head. When yours weren't you wouldn't like to see the look on her face. Being reminded. So you make secret seconds in Wrigley's spearmint gum. Stick in the gaps in case she said open up. She says wash your teeth God's sake every other child has theirs. But the doctor said. You could have kept a few I'm sure. Yes Mammy. Don't just yes Mammy me. Mammy yes. You said always yes when I did no. Poor teeth yours and not the fifty p's I'll sue. For no good reason either. Lucky. Blessed I was. Your second lot were hard sturdy. And you take care. Though you'd have liked them better then, I'd say, than now.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

We're living in the country cold and wet with slugs going across the carpet every night. Now when you are seven eight. Me five. This house, green growing up the outside.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

You and me having slug scum races from the doorway to the source where is it. Get that dirty thing out of this house I don't know where they get in. We wondered ever, seeking slug nests in the sofa. Under the grate and found a lizard running hell for leather in the ash. Come in with the coal black buckets but it was hot too hot. Under the fire in cinder we rake back and forth. It bolt out you were faster still than me. Scoop it up in time it might have been a newt I think. Get a jam jar get it. Stuck in that twig. I wallowed in its turning eye. Sickish in my throat, thinking it feels scum like slug roads. Never you ever touch it. A slap for every word of warn we get. Never. Ever. Touch. That. Dirty. Thing. It'll. Give. You. Warts. That. Is. Di. Sgust. Ing. Still we kept its jam jar in the shed until I broke it it died of fright you said and threw it at the cat who ran. Fat cat full of shit. Oh-e oh-e oh-e what you said. Yellow squirting if you touched him. Don't. Pick. Up. That. Dirty. Cat.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Blasted in the winter. Pelted and rain rush under the kitchen door. She slap it with a broom away. Bunch up papers under there. Look at that. Streaming down the walls and windows full of damp. God forsaken house it is look out it's lashing down.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

You and me swimming star wars in the puddles of it. Lino reefs of other worlds. My dirty fingers picking bigger holes. And made the stairs Niagara Falls and threw men over tied with wool. Lie on our stomachs eating piece of bread with butter sugar on top. A glass window Mammy I want one. Don't get it on my floor.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Howl winter all through the night that year in the trees where we climbed on and the hedges on the road. No cars here. No one comes. Things crying in the fields for me. Say they want me and coming down the walls for. She's coming Mammy. Who? The banshee. Don't be silly. Sure isn't your brother here? Won't he mind you if anything comes along. Should I close the door or leave it open? I don't know. Shut bad out or shut it in? Worse you. And said They are coming. For you and me. Stop it. Coming for us and we're without the knife. What knife? The one that goes with the magic machine. What is it? Makes the noise for killing bad things. A big dark tunnel bangs. How do you know? That's what I had, me shouting it burns awful ahhhh. The doctor said fire came out my eyes. He didn't. He did and these aren't mine. They are so. Mine melted. These are goat's. Goat eyes and the devil wants them back. My throat's closing. Shut up. Ugh shut up. Mammy? But wakes me in the night. Goat eyes riding off into the sky.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Always in the house, drifting round the stairs or sitting by our puddles little beast in your head. Sleeping happy homed up your brain stem now and fingers only strumming on your bad left side. Don't you knock your brother's head. You stumble. Not that bad. And walking into doors a laugh. Is blind eye at side like in eyelid? No. Lake water? No. Like glass? You said it is like nothing at all. It must be something what? And words, trace stammer of. At school why do you talk like that? Notoriety it likes maybe. It's in your sums X and red lines through a copy book for no no no. Wrong, the teachers writing, I explained this all to you. Wrong you do not understand. Wrong not listening paying attention in class. Again. No, you were not.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

It's clear it's clear it's there it's there. Cosy kernelled in your head. It must have strings pulling all the time. Sly in affection. Nasty thing. Having a chew. Nails dug for claws. Her blind spot I think when you were small. No you're better. No you are, turned her good eyes blind.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Whose is that car? Do you see it she said, parking at the gate? Oh God let it not be the PP and the state of the place. Who's that now? Don't pull the curtain back. No it isn't. Well he's coming up the path. Oh Jesus Mary and Joseph. Go wipe your nose you.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Daddy. I didn't recognise you. You gave me the fright of my life. I didn't know who it was at all. Is the car different? I thought that. Surely you didn't do all that drive today? Sacred hour. It's a terrible long old journey. Come in God and sit down. Anyways you're looking well.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

That's it. Is Mammy with you? Ah no of course. Ach she's not able. She said that alright before. And can the doctor not give her something, just to relieve her a bit? You must be worn out. Will you have a cup of tea?

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Come in here and say hello to your Grandfather. He's come all the way to see you, isn't that right? Just slip on that kettle as you come past. And can you get any sleep? Desperate at your time of life. Come you in and say hello like your brother. Oh god, look at the face on that. Would you not think about getting some help in? No she's not a bit shy. For a break in the mornings even? Will you have a sandwich with that? I haven't made a start on dinner. So we'll not eat til six I'd say. You know, I haven't a thing in the house. Sure I wasn't expecting you. I'll just nip out. It's only five minutes down the road. No stay where you are. You've driven enough. You sit there and talk to your Granda while I go get the messages. Oh now Madam's away upstairs. Don't mind her. She'll be down soon enough exercising her ears. You tell Granda the result of your IQ test. Average. Yes. Now isn't that good? It is. You know well what I was worried about. Look, I'll talk to you when I get back. No now it is good love. Daddy I didn't mean to snap. No of course I'm glad you came. Look let me go get these few things in. You show Granda your Octons love. I really won't be long.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

That man was sterner stuff than us. A right hook of a look in his eye all the time. Thin tight gelled hair. Moustache brown eyes. Clark Gable-alike when he was young, she said. But every man was I think then, when she was growing up. Under the thumb of him. Under his hand. Movie star father with his fifteen young. His poor Carole Lombard fucked into the ground. Though we don't say those words. To each other. Yet. They were true God fearing in for a penny in for a pound. Milk soaked mackerel for every Friday night. Mass every morning for all children over three and the wrath of God for anyone saying Jesus out loud or even in your head. For what's unsaid's as bad as, if not worse. Saturday til afternoon dedicated to praying with his wife – when none of the little could enter without a big knock. Such worshipping worshipping behind the bedroom door. With their babies and babies lining up like stairs. For mother of perpetual suffering prolapsed to hysterectomied. A life spent pushing insides out for it displeased Jesus to give that up. Twenty years in bed and a few after this before she conked. Ah desperate for him in his nice tweeds with his nice cane. Seven sons to carry his coffin. Seven daughters to follow and cry and one extra to make him martyr – surely toddlers die but she would have been the best. Sons for breaking chairs on the backs of. Daughters to shoo from the bath for a wee. Rich-ish husbands or they got a crack in the jaw. Chaste-ish wives or the boys got more. Goodfornothinglumpofshitgodforgiveyou. Ours got for her wedding a glare though he paid. He, at least, knew how to behave. Though a man like our father could be nothing to him. Not to lick his boots. Not to be his dog. Of course he wasn't even surprised when he ran off. Walked she said. I knew it would happen for what could you expect? Psychiatrist indeed and what rubbish is that? Poking in vegetables heads for a living or calling good people mad. He knew the type. Didn't even guess his son was sick. Busy thinking he was so great, no doubt. What kind of father is that you tell me? She didn't, or he wasn't a brain surgeon either.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

And he came, this grandfather, like bolts from the blue. Not a bit of warning just a rap on the door. No one expects the Spanish inquisition late Saturday afternoon. Would they drive four hundred miles without checking you'd be in? But he did because you wouldn't dare not. Not be in, indeed. Stay for a week us beck and called. Still children loved him and the lollies in his pocket. In the post office they'd say he was a real type of gent. Held doors for women. Kind to dumb animals. Gave generously to the plate on Sundays and could teach you a thing or two about a godly life. Gave up the drink for his mother on her death-bed. Bad he was and all with it. He says himself it was the hardest thing he ever did but if you're bad to your mother you'll never have luck. He doesn't know about that but he knows what's right. Never touched a drop again after. All those children too and each one a regular communicant. A daily one himself and us when he's afoot. You'll scorch eternity in hell then you'll wish you'd gone to church. Don't turn your face from the father or he'll turn his face from you. And he's a saint with that wife of his also. They say she got very hard. Bitter-like with him and sharp. He never says a word. Offers it up as penance. Oh he has his cross to bear – but sure, hasn't everyone? Besides it's as nothing to the death of a child. He doesn't mind telling you his faith was sorely tried. There's no grief like a parent's. No there's no pain like that. Set him off with the drinking. And this grandson just brings it back. His daughter could have spared him descriptions of the little cut open head, should not perhaps have phoned crying he'd only six months to live. But he reminded her he'd not had as much himself. So show some gratitude for what you've got. A lot my girl. A lot.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Sit down youngster and tell me what have you been at since I was here last. Have you grown? So you won't be stunted? Thanks be to God. How's school going? Are you top of your class yet? Ah you will be soon enough. And how are the tests? And arithmetic? Well, that's not up to much. You can't be trying that hard. Your mother was good at sums. You should ask her to explain. Well then ask her again. And how's the head? Have you been for any more scans? Well that's good. And how's your mother doing? No sign of that feckless father I suppose? I knew the minute I laid eyes on him. No sense of responsibility. I hope you won't turn out like that. Well, I'm very glad to hear it. And how old are you now? What class are you in? Have you been saying your prayers? Going to communion? How often? And confession? Every week? You know it's important never to receive the host in a state of sin. Your body is a temple for Christ. Did they teach you that at school? So why do you not go more often or are you just so good? Never tell a lie to your mother? Never fight with your sister? Well there's no arguing with that. But you know pride's a deadly sin we should all be humble before God. Your father was a proud man. He wouldn't come to mass and look what happened to you as a result. So you beware of pride. Well now, say a Hail Mary and we'll forget about it but the next time you go you tell the priest. Go on then. Hail Mary. Go on Hail Mary full of... Grace. You pick it up. The Lord is... How can you forget? Do you not say the rosary in this house? Then how can you not know the Hail Mary? No, this'll not do. This is a terrible carry on.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

And what about you Miss Piggy? Come in here and talk to me. You are. You do look like her. Don't you be cheeky. You're the image of her. That snout you have on you. Now see. I've got it. Say please and you can have it back. Don't you hit your grandfather. There. Have it so. Bold brat. If you were mine you'd be over my knee but then my little girls were well-behaved. They'd certainly never slap their grandfather on his sore leg. Because it would make him cry. Now I'll have to tell your mother and you'll get a beat on your bot. Because I'm her Daddy so if I say it she has to give you a smack.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

I've just been talking to your son. And your daughter. Well... But first what have you done to upset your sister? That's not what's been said to me. She said you knew she was sick and you never called. It could've been asthma. She could've been admitted to hospital. Well so far no card's arrived and I've no reason to think she'd tell me a lie. Well I don't know. You might. You could be twisting it all round. You're that turned in on yourself. Isn't there a phone box in the town? As she said herself she made all those calls when that boy took sick. But since the day and hour he did you'd think you're the only one has worries. So listen here, I have more children than you and I love them all equally and I won't be made to pick and choose. You are. You are asking me to. You're trying to make me take sides. You probably want me to give out to your sister. Well get that out of your head for starters. Oh you don't fool me. You're not bothered about anyone even your family. Well you never thanked me at the hospital for that money I sent. I didn't say anything at the time but I was deeply hurt. Of course there was time. There's always time for gratitude. Truth be told you've just assumed we'd always be there for you and we always have. But not a word of thanks. None whatsoever. Oh I'm sure. I'm sure you didn't mean it. You never do. And when I went to have that eye test you never called. It could have been. I could have had glaucoma. Both your grandparents had. But sure what's the point. It's like talking to that brick wall. You were always a selfish. No. Don't please Daddy me now.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

And that child only made his communion a year ago and he can't even say his Hail Mary. Have you no morals? I mean what kind of way is that to rear your son? But of course you're so clever. I forgot. Too good to marry a man who'd want his children to believe in God. Oh we look down our noses at those sorts, don't we? We wouldn't want to be like that, would we? You've always looked down your nose at me and my beliefs. You're above that sort of thing. But I couldn't care less because I'm grateful for how God has worked in my life. You do laugh. Of course you do. But I'm the one put food in your mouth. Your superior husband, where is he now? And you still think that's the way to rear a child? I was a daily communicant by nine. I was serving too and there was none of this Do we have to? If they're asking that then you're doing something wrong. That boy has a lot to be grateful for. It mightn't have left him that bright but he's not six foot under and don't tell me that's not the power of prayer. Half the parish doing novena's night and day. It was not remission. No it was not and you be careful because what he gives he can also take back.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

And look at that one. What way is that to rear a girl? Look at her. Forward rolls in a skirt. It's disgusting. It's perverted. Underwear on display. What kind of carry-on is that? How is she supposed to be a child of Mary? Well, you shouldn't let her away with it. I never reared you that way.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

There must be something wrong with you. You're not right in the head. Just as well I left your poor mother behind. Well it's little wonder why your husband left. If I had to live with this kind of Godlessness going on under my roof. You don't realise we're talking about their immortal souls and that doesn't get a second chance. Can you live with their damnation on your conscience? It doesn't matter what they want or not. It's for their own good. And as for you. As Christ said Better a millstone be tied around their necks. No. No it was mistake to come here. I feel the evil in this house. I'm not staying here. I cannot stay. No don't you speak to me. I don't want to hear the words of the evil one from my own daughter's mouth. You don't know what this has done to me. My own daughter. The shock. No, stay you away. Well I'm sorry they'll be upset but get out of my way. I don't want to hear any more of this. You'll only poison me with your bitterness you Godless creature. I pity you. I really do. Don't come near me. God forgive me I never knew. I never knew I'd reared a... No. Enough. That's it. Goodbye.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Such a quiet house after. Car blistering road beneath. She covered face up and whooping in her throat. Forcing air in. Shaking with tears. Tight as bows we sat. Faces hanging over the stairs. Our evil house Ringing. There are banshees here.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Right then. Right the pair of ye. Do you see what you've done? Are you pleased with yourselves? What did I say about forward rolls? What did I tell you about keeping your knickers covered? She is jumping up the stairs. Take one and two. Crack my eyes are bursting from my head with the wallop. Blood rising up my nose. Drips my head forward. Drip of that. She gets my hair. Listen. To me. Listen. What you've done. Shaking me smack and smack my head. Dirty brat. Shivering. Sharp with rage. Get away from me and push me over to the banisters.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

You. Panic. Mammy sorry that I sorry I didn't know. Your hands can't keep her off. She knows all the duck and weave we've done before. And hits you on your ear. On your cheek. That hard. Ah Mammy sorry. Sorry. Sorry please, all you say. She have you by the jumper. Slap you harder. Slap and slap and slap. Push you in the corner. Mammy. Mammy. Getting red face. Getting sore face. Slap again she. Slap again. Screaming. You imbecile. You stupid. I cupping all my blood nose in my jumper. Crouch. You. Bold. Boy. You. Stupid. Stupid. You'll never manage anything. You're a moron. He's right. You're a moron. Hail Mary. How hard can it be? Hail Mary. I've had enough of you. The pair of you. And you. You'll have to go to handicapped school. No Mammy Mammy. Slap you. School for morons is where you belong and you can live there and you can do what you like and I'll never have to put up with you again. I've had enough of you. Both of you. Selfish spoilt brats. Do you hear me? Enough. Morning noon and night and this is what you do to me? Handicapped school do you hear me? Slap slap. Your nose weeping while she pulled you by the hair and then a hard one. A really hard one. Hard down straight upon your brown head. I hear it. Mammy my head. Mammy my my don't Mammy hit me anymore on my head. Holding it, your head, all bent down. Feel it throb you. The shock like sacrilege. Mammy not my head anymore, putting out your palm instead. She didn't then all at once. Pushed you back on the floor. Went into her room. Went into the dark closed curtains of it and shut the door on us.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

We standing and hunkered there on the landing. Me intrigued by my bleeding. Pump skull and brain around is what it felt. You turned your face to the corner. Glowing red and white with welts. Stood there until you managed to pull down all your sobs. I heard you grasp your breathing. Still it.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Took me hot hand to the bathroom then and water on my face. Gentle wiping, saying there now it's alright. Cleaned blood from me like I saw at school. Head back gulping the thicky flow. Now, you say, we'll be good. Now we'll do what we are told. Maybe she'll forgive us if we'll be good. Alright? We'll be good now. I said stupid shit fuck piss cow bitch frigger shiter fucker bitch pig. Stop it, don't say that you said. You have to be good. I said, she can't hear you now.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Tomato soup we made. You opened and only tipped a little on the sideboard block. I wiped it in the darkness. We were keeping still as still. Didn't even turn the light on while you lit the gas. Poured such red soup into that pot. Set it whisper down on the stove. And stirred it with the wooden spoon so we would not scrape. Poured in a white bowl. With a slice of bread. Some kitchen roll folded on the tray. A proper soup spoon by the side plate. I carried it although you were bigger. Not to drop it. I was careful and your hand might slip. Put it down there. On the floor there. Just beside her door. Then you knocked it. Very gentle. Saying Mammy in a whisper here's your dinner that we made. We had a talk and we'll be good from now on and do everything you say. All the time. Please don't send me to handicap school.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Then a wait. We heard her walk across the bedroom floor. Quiet. Foot by foot. And she opened up the door looking all tired out and white. Bent down and lifted it. Saying thank you children. We'll see in the morning. Go on to bed now. Goodnight.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Get up from that bed. Come on we're late. Ah Mammy. It'll do you no harm Madam to show the Lord you care. But I feel sick at mass. None of that please. There's no fresh air in there. Get you your shoes on we haven't got time for this.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Grannies rap their hearts. I know that from hot mass when they say Jesus' name. My feet hurt, knees hurt on the kneeler where someone's foot left shoe dirt there – sorry will you let me through. All the people up and down saying Christ has died Christ has risen Christ will come again. Mammy I can't see the altar. Lift me up til my legs go dead.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

It's a dangerous place for smacking mass. Any trying to run up the aisle. Get back here. Climbing through the seats ahead. Sorry. Sit down. Sucking tissues or getting under the pew. That's a good thump in the back. Stand up here and it goes right through your lungs. I like that, to make men from sucked toilet paper. I have plenty and I never clean my nose. Stop that dirty thing. You get it for GI Joe man banging on the floor. But he's jumping. Ssssh. But Mammy he's. Ssssh. Jumping off Niagara Falls. Stop. That. Now. Ow. Be quiet I said.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

And when we go out all the old ones saying would you look at that, and aren't they great at their age you can get them to behave at all. At that age mine were up to all sorts. Sure they had my heart broke. She smiles says they're a handful, but you wouldn't be without them would you? No. Thanks be to God.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Do you like coming to God's house? In the car home. Careful. And for this the answer's yes. Would you not rather be watching the telly? No Mammy I wouldn't. No.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

She offers demure love now and saintly head. Sign of the cross. Kissing beads. And bible stories every day and night. All the eating locusts I liked. Hair shirt sticking in the skin. Devils in the wilderness and stones for bread. A good suffering Jesus. Lank and ribs, tats hanging in his hair. Sore and sticking on the cross even more.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

On my own, draw marker on his picture flesh. Quiet or it would be a slapping. Don't you dare be defacing Our Lord. But I. Blood from this eye. In my own time on the sly she never catch me. Lying on my belly singing When creation was begun god had chosen you to be mother of his blessed son holy Mary full of grace. Stick it in him. I like it hurts so much. His mother is crying to see him. Lovely blood on thorns and scourging is the best thing though this picture doesn't show his back. Holes of wounds for stabbing in lances or nails. That one is infected. It would be worser than this if they stuck a knife in I'd say. But I didn't have red felt tip. That got squashed in Tiny Tears' eye. You did it. Still, good to see him going bloody to death, though pink. Busy I was with a million gushing cuts to draw, make them worser, giving scabs. Where's the pain in that one? But I'd like to hear him crying, screaming most of all. How bad was it Jesus? Mr Jesus Christ. I thought Christ was his second name. She all the time pointing him out in pictures saying Jesus Christ. Mr Christ. Mrs Christ like Claus. You gone all strange, saw me, said I see what you're doing. That makes Jesus cry. What? Drawing blood down between his legs. I amn't. You are. So? It's dirty. Don't tell though, sure you won't tell? I won't do it again. Alright but you have to say your prayers and remember to tell it when you make your confession or. What? You'll be going down to the hot place.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Down the road had farmer girls who were my class friends. Grease on their lunchboxes they always had. Smell of salad cream. Cheese biscuit stink of a house if I went down to play.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Me and the stink girls when we are playing. We do something else at all. For badness if I stay the night – ach leave her here she'll do no harm. We're donned in finest vestments Mickey Mouse or Donald Duck our nylon nighties. Reverend she and Father me. Our altar decked with cotton bud candelabra. That chalice mug with flowers on, the cloth the mat and Jesus wafer cheese and onion. But first my children confess your sins. I am confessee. That is. Fr I do the cornflakes ad. Wag my bum like dogs with tails saying oooooo lovely cornflakes. And cornflakes cannot be a sin. It is though here. Do. Not. Wiggle. Your. Bottom. Like. That. It. Is. A. Sin. For her that admonition was the one they'd use and for my penance didn't hit too hard. Me. On my legs. But sometimes pull my skirt up because that's what priests would do. In front of all the people. Then they'd see your knick-knacks. Ten Hail Mary's and a Glory Be.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Now my children it is time for mass. Sing that song. Through him with him in him in the unity of the Holy Spirit all glory and honour is yours almighty father forever and ever. Say it, this is the body of Christ and eat your crisp. This is the blood of Christ and drink up that thick ribena blood. Don't spit out. And on her mother push the door we quick disband for blasphemy's the fatal sin.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

But their mother sent our one notes. Give that to your mam a ghrá. Saying we're The Charismatics. Doing the good work. Doing the good work for Christ Our Lord. And she came one Sunday evening sat praying on me – a great haul for the fishers of men. They were talking for an hour and she said every Thursday then. Six o'clock? Yes. Fine.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

They come with fruitcakes. There's a few little scones there in that tin. She says tell your brother bring in some tea. Put the tray down on the coffee table there, good boy. Isn't he great? They're click- clacking by the time you come in. Oh you'd go mad sitting in the house all day on your own. Look at that isn't he great? Haven't you him well-trained? Doing great. Are you delighted? Of course you are. He's a great lad godbepraised. Like mothers they know all the questions and answers before. Knew to pat you. Knew to ask how's school and who's your teacher? Making your first holy this year? All that.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

They polyester tight-packed womanhood aflower in pink and blue or black and green coats if the day has rain. Their boots in the hallway, crusty with cow dung or wet muck. If in Sunday skirts, every pleat a landscape of their grown-up bodies. Tired. Under- touched. Flesh having run all night after the cows. Flesh carry sacks of turf up lanes from the shed and spurt out child and child and child. Son he has wanted. Girl he did not. Making frys at all hours and smell of cigarettes called fags by them. Lily of the valley and vaseline. This country's awful in the winter. Brown skin nylons. Leatherette shoes. And they'll just have a little cup there in their hand. Good for them they like God and Jesus the most. That's what they come here to say and do. There's in their bags holy books and books of it. I picked up this one. I'll lend you that. Now you take this I read it and thought of you. Hold out their palms out and let the spirit in. To save them and to set them free.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Some most are women. In a blue moon a man. I like to eye. Sitting in the corner jugging as I can for all they say is interesting to me. Dress undressing no-neck cindy. Not stopping or I get look at little lugs there listening in. Oh taking it all in that one. Doesn't miss a thing. Spelling I know but too quick to understand r.u.n.o.f.f with the s.a.c.r.i.s.t.a.n and they are living in s.i.n down in such and such a place. There's stink girl's mother and her sister with women's troubles so peculiar all pointed down and asked and how's ahem? Ah she'll not sit down for years. Apparently the smell of it is something wicked but god knows it's not her fault. Their brother's second wife – ach the first died leaving five behind. Tell me where's the sense? They're wild as wild. As bold as brats. The P.P's housekeeper – God rest her late husband. A lovely man. She gave him a hard life but sure. Mrs one whose husband ran the AIB. Uppity up in herself – behind palms in the scullery they whisper adding a splash to warm the pot. Great red hat she wears to mass. So we have a look at her and where's the humility in that? Ah each to their own, they say. Then your woman who bought a knitting machine. A hundred and twenty pounds now where did she... Her little boy. Downs. God love him. She does school jumpers so she can get him toys that are ed-u-cat-ional nod nod. That's right for God helps those who help themselves. The politician's wife they'd normally spite but God help us her heart is broke. He's running about with this one that one. She can't look down on them. Her vows were sacred and he'll not get her into mortal sin. Her heart may be pierced with a thousand spears but she'll offer it as penance that's a bit proud don't you think? And the one whose husband's a desperate drunk. Like his father before him you know the type, vicious. That'd kill you in it by mistake. Her blue eyes. Her black eyes. Is he on the bottle? they say and pray for sometimes giving up and the forgiveness of his sins.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

When they get down to the business rosary. Circle. I feel the Holy Spirit close here. Among us. Healing our wounds. Filling us with Christ's love. Put down that you and come and say your prayers. Speaking through us like the apostles of old. You and me sitting back aching straight in God, thinking cindy's boobies lie out just there on the floor. Sometimes I'll do you a foot dance. Jiggery. But you're not for laughing anymore. Bow your head. You take it for real – I tell you that boy has the makings of a priest. But I will not bother til apparitions approach. Our Lady of Medjugorjie's message says those awful secrets near. Her vision girls bright views of hell. Their family's falling in. Those pets those friends. Cold worms of fear. Will that be me? Leave if I can. Run. Sit down Miss and bear witness to their blessed truth.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Picture how she comes. Our Lady in white, when you're not looking. She beckons you to Christ. Pray to be chosen. To bear her secrets for the world. A dying world. Please don't to me or catch her floating on the stairway. Reaching out. Howabout stigmata instead? Worse though you'd never go to school again or look at my hands in case I see it. The Holy Spirit's in me. Not a punishment. It's a gift. No not like the violin. Any eejit can do that. I feel it aching in my palm but when will the blood burst? Now please Jesus or not at all. Lickety lips of the praying wouldn't mind if I was one. But they'd all like it for their children. A visionary born from me? You'll only be able to tell the seasons by the trees Malachi prophesied or Colmcille. And they say the last secret of Fatima is destruction of the church. The Vatican won't say either way because that'll be the end of days. Gulp this. But we'll know anyway from Medjugorjie the day before. Shiver I purple terror high in my throat. The dead will knock your window. Deadly bony spirit hands. They'll beg for you to save their souls. Open the latch they cry. You will not. Can not. You must turn from them. Away. Shut the curtains. Light a candle and pray for your salvation while the apocalypse blows your door. And if they plead they love you, so much the worse for their souls. Those poor souls howling. Sucked into the forever night. Will you save us Mammy? I'll say easy children close your eyes for this world is coming to an end. But Mammy it scares me. Well better behave yourself then.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

They pray to God and pray and pray for God's sake to be saved. They're swaying rolling. Palms out rigid. Letting in the Holy Spirit. Come and make our lives a perfect sacrifice to thee. Russians blowing up the world. Pray for them. For all the Chinese going to hell. For the black pope that's the last one. Him as well even if he's next. I nudge. Could Satan be talking through? No. There's holy water eejit and not much terror in you. You are filling with redemption. But I am for it. Me and my sins. Listen as they do it speaking loud in a thousand tongues. Could Germans understand it maybe French? Sounds A la la ka leash a na to me.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

But when they go and it is night I'm a bit heart stopped. Gives chest hurt fright. Make the sign of the cross and I'll be fine. You'll be got because you drew on Christ, dirty thing. No if I die before I wake I pray to God my soul to take God bless you me Mammy Granda and Granny and don't let the end of time be tonight. You say thank you god for being so good and are not afraid of the dark.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

If it's summer before the sun goes down I sometimes leg it from the holy joes. Mammy I have to go toilet and go and run hand-washed to stare into the sun. That's a good job. That'll make me a strong one. I heard three times makes you blind. But mine's in secret so I stare fine for it won't ever blind me. God holy holying you though. He might be some kind of saint. They have never met your like. Manys a mother would've given up hope. Her arm on your shoulder. Her gentle stroke your head. I don't know where I'd be without him.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

I'm just bit on the wild, bit of a pup. Nothing interesting to prick a curate. Not like Hail Mary's you say as well as Glory be. For fun Father and the souls in purgatory that they be saved – he said to me – now where did he get that but God?

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Still. I can leg it down the drain. Inside under Jesus I make my dash out in the rain. Slap mud sandals. Slap mud all up my socks. I'll skid it. Scutter it. Holding thistles for fairy soup or foxgloves bad luck teacher calling giddy goat or I will tell your mother you were saying shite. Making out curses and people die. I can. Being magic. Saying fucker Christ. Into the fields. My bad words best collection. All the things my mother never taught me. To shit in a field or run in from the rain. So I knew it always then and do it all the time. Oh crouch. Dock leaf. Plopped. True I could be killed for that. Such elicit outdoor. And a white one too. Should not have been licking chalk. I couldn't bide the loud Do not. Theeverysooften crunchy crunch. And white guilty gums. Poison I know. I'll die from it. But a little one. Ah a sneaky one and Oh I quail to think of that. You did something you should not have. Chalk's your downfall. Chalk's your crime. Day in school I. Didn't lick the blackboard just my hand. Smacked it palmly on. And sweet chalk powder licky to my tongue. Swoon through lunch know I'll get caught or Who did that disgusting thing? Where's the glantóir? Teacher roaring. Who'd dare violate this board? She better confess because I always know. Panic runs lines across my face. I won't raise my hand. She'll kill me stone dead. Who did that? Nets not cast wide. The pair of ye, get up.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

They trup foot heavy but will not confess. Did you do it? No teacher. You're lying. I can tell. Ye little tinker bitches. Itinerants, I know to say. Not in my house will you call people tinker Mammy says. No one's tinker to you Miss. But our teacher does. Always smelly tinkers. Tinkers sit over there for living in caravans and get more walloped than anyone else. There. Always back to ye she says. Troublemakers. She knows them well. I sweat hands knowing I should tell. That love of chalk. Those smear is me. She crack their foreheads hard to each. Crack. Pulled to by the pony plaits with neat grease ribbons. I'm shame to that. They stand gloss-eyed and rub their heads. That'll learn you. Get out of my sight she says and they reddy stare over the stone school wall. Looking at bushes with snail trails on. Snails at their noses. Snails in their eyes. No Daddy theirs will say don't to my child. I know that. No Daddy mine. Go on ye so, and trup them down to snuffle lie sore heads on their desks. Noses dripping in their cuffs. Teacher scrubbing hands on a j-cloth. Don't touch them little scums. I tuck my white hand in to lick at later on. Later. Alligator. Cat.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Not there, I walked around and around. That house had up hill down dale. Steps and mud. Those wellies red. Umbrella. Wondrous being dry. See fat drops plop and run like a river down for flies. Spiders. That time it was always raining. Summer. Spring. I don't know though when we were or where. Puddles and puddles very good for sailing peanut barge shells over. Like over and over the sea. Or this is Lough Corrib or this is the Nile. I'd like littler men to sail them but. Your soldiers aren't mine.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

And sometimes you have schoolbags. A tie. Little sisters are. Yuck. I hate girls in the schoolyard. But still lie belly on the stairs with me. Who zooms quickest? Face first? Feet? Would you ever mind your brother's head. Boys on bikes are better and I am left boat floating behind. They always ask what's the scar in your hair? One threw a stone at your birthday that cut your ear. She grabbed him by the jumper. Little fecker don't you ever do that again or I'll. Everyone thinks our mother's a bit and desperate because where's the man in that house and who will teach those children right from wrong? Up to all sorts and in my day we were la la la. I'd say that's what they say.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Strange. Pushed out to the ocean of school. Wave back occasional to her shore. Hi there, Mammy. Never see me more without my secret life again. I spy boy's urinal. Kill red things on the wall. Snap and broke the elastic waistband of some girl. I'm telling. Her Mam. Mam. Mammy or. You'll get a thick ear for being noisy. And I never learned times tables. Scaldered to the spot. What's seven times twelve? Never learned that. Thicko to the front. Face the class. Now for you. Have a smack. Was all that happened for years. And my head is good for secrets. I can bang it on the wall. It takes the nervous out and no one bothers for it at all.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

So. This as well when no one looks. Go n'eírí an bóthar leat while the wind be always at your back. Run up the fields. Blink to the house. Go sun blindness. Turn my arse. Lift to fly. Balloon across the earth. Puff ball keep your knick-knacks covered. Belting on the wind me. Beating me at my own game. Scup there skirts and give us a dance. Be pelted by the dark rains. Feet wet like trough. Soak them blue to black through flesh and bone. Scratch my arms on fairy blackthorn. Knee cut rocks for learning how to fly. Whip grass cut hands and lips on a scutch pipe. I'll call all the fairies and ones living underground. For I know they're listening. Will give me thorns in my pockets and thorns in my bed. I'll jig on their houses til my lips turn red. I'll give you a whirl twirl. A smack on the paddy whack but Get in this house. Get in this house you, always, always comes.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride

Skating on the beach. I dreamed it. Empty sort on a yellow sky day cliff. In the evening of it. All alone though gulls are there. Cormorants I know. Chicks and hens. Buttery throat calls squawks. Dipping fish out. Wheeling in it turn and dive. Flutter like a panic wings that they would all fall down above me. I hate those bird feet hanging. Rubbery storm air though blowing over the water. Coursing I think. That clouds and wind skiteing sand spray floats of it up. Catching at the back of me. In the bad time of year. This is. Roller-skates. Tying-on ones. Butterfly screw and lace up ones. Heavy and leather over my shoes buckle red ones on. Rollering on the sand front. Going foot to foot to foot to foot. Spinning wheels round digging. Crunch as glass on the axel rod. And then water heaving up behind me. I hear. Fling itself at my legs. Giving a howl out. Drag across the stones. Dragging at me. Drag me in. See the sand dunes. The sting sea grass whipping vicious in the wind. Waves purple chocolate. Snaking at my ankles. Trip me up. Falling on my hands and face. The ocean. Am I drowning? Red knees in my red tights fallen on the foam. I am in it. Gushing back for more of it. The waves are more and rolling over. Back up me. Over me. Soaked and leaden crawling on the dust. My red coat. Sogging. Face down and shrunken in a hood. My faceful of sand. Mouthful of sand. My hands clawing under water tow me out. Heavy head. Heart going mad panic stricken. Saying out. Names. You. You. That type of lung screaming out. Raw and whistle-ish screaming no sound. Expel. Expel it. No one hear me. Struggle. Help me. Gurgle. Glugle. Salted mouth pit. Salted seaweed tongue. Drowning. Gasping. Filled up to the nose and the eyes and the brain. And going cold now. Going under. I am. I am. Going. I am gone. Stop. Up. Breath. Breathe.

A Girl Is a Half-formed Thing - Eimear McBride