As Good as Dead by Holly Jackson EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Author: Holly Jackson
- Language: English
- Genre: Teen & Young Adult Law & Crime Fiction eBooks
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 35 MB
- Price: Free
Dead-eyed. That’s what they said, wasn’t it? Lifeless, glassy, empty. Dead
eyes were a constant companion now, following her around, never more than
a blink away. They hid in the back of her mind and escorted her into her
dreams. His dead eyes, the very moment they crossed over from living to not.
She saw them in the quickest of glances and the deepest of shadows, and
sometimes in the mirror too, wearing her own face.
And Pip saw them right now, staring straight through her. Dead eyes
encased in the head of a dead pigeon sprawled on the front drive. Glassy and
lifeless, except for the movement of her own reflection within them, bending
to her knees and reaching out. Not to touch it, but to get just close enough.
“Ready to go, pickle?” Pip’s dad said behind her. She flinched as he shut
the front door with a sharp clack, the sound of a gun hiding in its
reverberations. Pip’s other companion.
“Y-yes,” she said, straightening up and straightening out her voice.
Breathe, just breathe through it. “Look.” She pointed needlessly. “Dead
He bent down for a look, his black skin creasing around his narrowed
eyes, and his pristine three-piece suit creasing around his knees. And then the
shift into a face she knew too well: he was about to say something witty and
“Pigeon pie for dinner?” he said. Yep, right on cue. Almost every other
sentence from him was a joke now, like he was working that much harder to
make her smile these days. Pip relented and gave him one.
“Only if it comes with a side of mashed rat-ato,” she quipped, finally
letting go of the pigeon’s empty gaze, hoisting her bronze backpack onto one
“Ha!” He clapped her on the back, beaming. “My morbid daughter.”
Another face shift as he realized what he’d said, and all the other meanings
that swirled inside those three simple words. Pip couldn’t escape death, even
on this bright late-July morning in an unguarded moment with her dad. It
seemed to be all she lived for now.
Her dad shook off the awkwardness, only ever a fleeting thing with him,
and gestured to the car with his head. “Come on, you can’t be late for this
“Yep,” Pip said, opening the door and taking her seat, unsure of what else
to say, her mind left behind as they drove away, back there with the pigeon.
It caught up with her as they pulled into the parking lot for the Fairview
train station. It was busy, the sun glinting off the regimented lines of
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