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9781416950103: Fallout

Inhaltsangabe

The riveting final chapter of the Crank trilogy, from #1 New York Times bestselling author Ellen Hopkins.

Hunter, Autumn, and Summer—three of Kristina Snow’s five children—live in different homes, with different guardians and different last names. They share only a predisposition for addiction and a host of troubled feelings toward the mother who barely knows them, a mother who has been riding with the monster, crank, for twenty years.
     As each teen searches for real love and true family, they find themselves pulled toward the one person who links them together—Kristina, Bree, mother, addict. But it is in each other, and in themselves, that they find the trust, the courage, the hope to break the cycle.
     Told in three voices and punctuated by news articles chronicling the family’s story, Fallout is the stunning conclusion to the trilogy begun by Crank and Glass, and a testament to the harsh reality that addiction is never just one person’s problem.

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Ellen Hopkins is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of fourteen young adult novels, as well as the adult novels Triangles, Collateral, and Love Lies Beneath. She lives with her family in Carson City, Nevada, where she has founded Ventana Sierra, a nonprofit youth housing and resource initiative. Visit her at EllenHopkins.com and on Facebook, and follow her on Twitter at @EllenHopkinsLit.

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We Hear

 

 

That life was good

before she

met

                                            the monster,

but those page flips

went down before

our collective

cognition. Kristina

                                            wrote

that chapter of her

history before we

were even whispers

in her womb.

 

The monster shaped

                                            our

Lives, without our ever

touching it. Read on

if you dare. This

                                            memoir

 

isn’t pretty.

Hunter Seth Haskins

SO YOU WANT TO KNOW

 

 

 

All about her. Who

                                            she

really is. (Was?) Why

she swerved off

the high road. Hard

                                            left

to nowhere,

recklessly

indifferent to

                                            me,

Hunter Seth Haskins,

her firstborn

son. I’ve been

                                            choking

that down for

nineteen years.

Why did she go

                                            on

her mindless way,

leaving me spinning

in a whirlwind of

                                            her dust?

IF YOU DON’T KNOW

 

 

 

Her story, I’ll try

my best to enlighten

 

you, though I’m not sure

of every word of it myself.

 

I suppose I should know

more. I mean, it has been

 

recorded for eternity—

a bestselling fictionalization,

 

so the world wouldn’t see

precisely who we are—

 

my mixed-up, messed-

up family, a convoluted

 

collection of mostly regular

people, somehow strengthened

 

by indissoluble love, despite

an ever-present undercurrent

 

of pain. The saga started here:

 

FORWARD

 

 

 

Kristina Georgia Snow

gave me life in her seventeenth

year. She’s my mother,

 

but never bothered to be

my mom. That job fell

to her mother, my grandmother,

 

Marie, whose unfailing love

made her Mom even before

she and Dad (Kristina’s stepfather,

 

             Scott) adopted me. That was

             really your decision, Mom claims.

             You were three when you started

 

             calling us Mama and Papa.

             The other kids in your playgroup

             had them. You wanted them too.

 

We became an official

legal family when I was four.

My memory of that day is hazy

 

 

 

 

at best, but if I reach way,

way back, I can almost see

the lady judge, perched

 

like an eagle, way high above

little me. I think she was

sniffling. Crying, maybe?

 

                               Her voice was gentle. I want

                               to thank you, Mr. and Mrs.

                               Haskins, for loving this child

 

                               as he deserves to be loved.

                               Please accept this small gift,

                               which represents that love.

 

I don’t really remember all

those words, but Mom repeats

them sometimes, usually

 

when she stares at the crystal

heart, catching morning sun

through the kitchen window.

 

That part of Kristina’s story

always makes Mom sad.

Here’s a little more of the saga.

 

Chapter one

 

 

 

 

It started...

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