“What are you doing here, honey? You’re not even old enough to know how bad life gets.”
“Obviously doctor, you’ve never been a thirteen year old girl.”
- The Virgin Suicides
“they wouldn’t leave our minds, but they were slipping away, the colour of their eyes was fading, along with the exact locations of moles and dimples. From 5 they had become 4, and they were all living in the dead, becoming shadows…”
-The Virgin Suicides (1999)
The Virgin Suicides, 1993
The Virgin Suicides.
We would never be sure about the sequence ofevents. We argue about it still. Most likely Bonnie had died while we were waiting in the living room, dreaming of highways. Mary put her head in the oven shortly thereafter. Therese, stuffed with sleeping pills, was gone by the time we got there. Lux was the last to go.
We didn’t understand why Cecilia had killed herself the first time and we understood even less when she did it twice.
We knew the pain of winter wind rushing up your skirt, and the ache of keeping your knees together in class, and how drab and infuriating it was to jump rope while the boys played baseball. We could never understand why the girls cared so much about being mature, or why they felt compelled to compliment each other, but sometimes, after one of us had read a long portion of the diary out loud, we had to fight back the urge to hug one another or tell each other how pretty we were.