you can have your lolita summer and I’ll have my amma crellin summer
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would you rather have caroline collingswood as a mother or adora crellin? you’re fucked either way but you get to choose the extent of your trauma
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gillian flynn released three absolute bangers in six years plus a short story that i have yet to read and then NOTHING since 2014 😭
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my sharp objects scenario written in camilles perspective
i tried to capture gillian flynns writing… wk. 574
i crumbled into bed like a wet towel that had just been thrown on the floor, feeling the uneasy, overactive beating of my heart. i realised somewhere in my mouth, blood was starting to spread. i didnt even have any loose teeth. rolling over i hear three knocks on my door. i knew who it was before she’d even reached my door, feet padding along, creeping closer and louder.
it reminded me of when my mother would get up, late at night. she’d breeze past to the bathroom and within a couple minutes i would hear her bedroom door click shut again. not even a glance my way or a goodnight. id sit, digging and tracing the sharp edge of a nearby comb to my thighs, wondering what she was dreaming about.
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earlier that day amma had spotted me drinking on the porch, taking ‘notes’ but really i was hurriedly writing sick over and over for 13 pages. i had nothing to write or quote, my head was swarming with how little id gotten from this place. lazy. after richard and i’s night in the car he’d become sloppy with the case , clearly his head was somewhere else after id stopped returning his calls.
“have you found anything good?” amma said in her usual tone, dripping with sweetness and sitting down right next to me. i closed the notepad quickly and tucked it under my thigh.
“no”
“can i see?” she started to reach over and i shrugged her off.
“you’ve done enough , you know about the girls already.” it pummeled out of me, screeching to a stop as i swallowed. i heard my own words echo back in my head and for a second they were in my mothers voice, cold and dismissive.
she frowned , turning her gaze to the weeds crawling over our porch floor. they were grey and orange, weak from the sun.
-
i hear the knocks on my door again and i groan. amma seems to take that as a ‘come in’. a sickly scent fills the room, it was my mothers medicine.
“were you asleep?”
i sit up and stare at her. shes wearing a white nightgown, the one she wears almost every night. her blonde, some how always curled hair, was in messy plaits and she was also holding a slightly ascew mini wooden chair, seemingly from her dollhouse.
“i was playing and” she mumbles again, crawling onto the end of my bed “it broke.”
i hold my hand out and start inspecting the chair. it was definitely broken, splinters poked from one of its legs like jagged icicles. it looked like it was on purpose, i thought as i dart my eyes to her flushed face. she had the sick look my mother craved from her children, it wouldn’t be long till she figured we were both out of bed. i lay back, my eyes trained on the door to my bedroom.
“i dont have anything to fix it”
“you dont need to have anything” she quickly says, scooting closer, “i was just upset and mommas asleep.”
“well, what do you want?” my words came harsher than i meant and that same frown from earlier appeared on ammas face. i found myself subconsciously patting the empty space next to me.
she crawled over and looked at me, whispering, “i hate it when momma sleeps, i wish she dreamt of me.”
my chest twisted, tight and sharp.
*
nicolettes note ៸៸៸ i like how in the book you can tell they both have a similar crave for their mothers attention. i might write a sort of spin off, maybe if amma never got caught and she continued killing in her new place, trying to find people to pull into her mess and just skating around town maaaaybe from her perspective
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HER MOTHER DID IT????? OH MY GOSH!!! it’s all makes sense now. i already hated her guts but DAMN
imagine your own mother hating you because she can’t kill you
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i need strength to finish sharp objects episode 7
y'all i couldn’t do it. i skipped the scene😭
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I do love how absolutely disasterous Camille is. Flynn does not glamorize mental illness– she shows it for exactly as cringy and embarrassing as it often is. Camille is not cool– Camille is a constant cry for help. If you’re partying with teens when you’re 30, if you’re caught sleeping with an 18-year-old murder suspect by the lead investigator (whom you’re also sleeping with), falling on the sidewalk and splitting your head open because you just sucked an ecstasy tablet off your 13-year-old sister’s tongue, masturbating to memories of your own abuse, blaming other women for being abused because you don’t want to acknowledge that you yourself are a victim… If multiple characters mention that you smell bad because showers fuck you up… Yeah, uh. You’re one cringe mess, babygirl.
And genuinely, I love it. No more cool, stoic survivors please. Depict how ugly it gets. The HBO show doesn’t depict it AS well, if only because Amy Adams is fucking beautiful at all times, but still….
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The scene after Camille gets high at the party, when her mom is tending to her… That triggers the fuck out of me. It’s so invasive and disgusting and it… Brings back so many unpleasant memories of my own mother. This book is a masterpiece but I feel genuinely sick. All the “good girl” and touching between her legs and being so happy about having an injured child– my entire body is screaming “don’t TOUCH ME!!!!”
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rewatched scream last night and realized i still hate slashers. it’s ridiculous to see the amount of people who take death so flippantly. i like my killers complex and violent for a reason. yellowjackets. sharp objects. bones and all. morally complex, physically violent. who’s your fav morally grey killer? yell at me on ama :)
do you like morally gray or straightforward killers?
morally gray: amma, maren, jackie
straightforward: stu, chucky, art
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