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Written by American writer Lauren Oliver. Her debut novel, released in 2010, hit the bestseller list almost immediately. The novel is aimed at teenagers aged 16-17.
Heroes
- Samantha Emily Kingston(Sam, Samuel) - the main character, 17 years old, on Cupid's Day, she, along with her friends, crashes in a car. Something keeps her on Earth, and she has to relive that tragic day again and again (7 times) until she realizes her mistakes and does not correct them.
- Lindsey- Sam's friend, leader of the company.
- Elodie- Sam's friend, wears glasses. The most delicate and calm of the entire company.
- Ellie Another friend of Sam's. In the 9th grade I collected miniature porcelain cows.
- Rob- Samantha's boyfriend. One of the most popular guys in school.
- Kent- Samantha's childhood friend. Always been in love with her.
- Juliet Siha(in the original - Sykes) is a beautiful, fair-haired, modest girl. Becomes the butt of ridicule from Lindsey, Ellie, Elodie, and Samantha. Everyone calls her "Psycho".
Plot
The story begins on Friday, February 12, the eve of Valentine's Day. Lindsey, Elodie, Ellie and Sam are best friends, the most popular girls in school. So, the main character (Sam) wakes up "7 minutes and 47 seconds" before her friend arrives. (Lindsey) Lindsey arrives and yells "Beep-beep" (a trick to avoid angering Mom Sam, who scolds Lindsey for "fafaka"). Lindsey picks up the girl from the house in her Range Rover. Every morning, the girls drive to school, eat Dunkin " Donuts and drink coffee. Before the school itself, the windows are rolled down and the song "No more drama" by Mary Jay Blige is turned on at full power. 2 times a year the girls dress the same way: "on Cupid's Day and on Pajama Day at School Spirit Week." The four usually show up in the parking lot 10 minutes before class 1. At school on Valentine's Day, all day long, cupid girls on roller skates carry Valentine roses with valograms (obviously a derivative of " Valentine" and "telegram"). The main character also receives a rose from her boyfriend Rob - the coolest guy in school, for whom all the girls dry, and with whom she should have sex this evening. In the evening, the company goes to a party hosted by a childhood friend Samantha, Kent, where all the high schoolers will be. However, after a short delay, the girls leave the party. In the car, Elodie and Ellie are arguing. Later, white flames flash in front of the car. Lindsey screams unintelligible words oh, and the car flies off the road straight into a black abyss. The company is dying. The next morning, Samantha wakes up happy (was it just a dream?) but then she realizes that Cupid's Day is repeating itself. To get out of this time loop, Samantha will have to correct all her mistakes and understand what she did not understand before. She was given a chance to live life differently. By repeating the same day 7 times, she gradually unravels the mystery of her death and discovers the true values of life. Initially, Sam wanted to save her life, thinking that if she escaped death, everything would end and the time loop would unravel, but when the ill-fated day repeats and repeats, she decides that she has lost her mind. Then Samantha accidentally learns that one of her classmates, who had been bullied by the four for many years, wants to commit suicide. The girl feels guilty and wants to help her. She also learns that as children, Juliet Siha, Sam's classmate, and Lindsey were best friends until fifth grade. When Lindsey was in trouble due to her parents' divorce, Juliet was always there and promised to keep everything related to Lindsey a secret. But on one of the Girl Scout hikes in fifth grade, Lindsey peed herself in her sleeping bag, and in a state of fright and shock, she blamed everything on Juliet, calling her "Wet Mouse". After that, they never talked again, and later Lindsay began to make fun of the girl, turn everyone against her, and mock her in the most cruel ways. Sam realizes that at the time of the accident, Lindsey's unintelligible word sounded like "Psycho". (the current nickname of Juliet, who at that moment threw herself under a car). Samantha realizes that Juliet is her clue, her ticket to freedom from this time loop, and that she must save her. But Sam can only save Juliet in one way: by sacrificing himself by pushing Juliet out of the way. When she performs this heroic deed
To the unforgettable memory of Simon Emil Knudsen II
Thanks for the wonderful moments. I miss you
Copyright © 2010 by Lauren Oliver
© Kilanova A., translation into Russian, 2011
© Edition in Russian, design. LLC "Publishing House" E ", 2017
They say that before death, the whole life flashes before my eyes, but it turned out differently for me.
To be honest, it always seemed to me that all these stories with the last moment, mental scanning of life sound rather ominous. Whoever remembers the old is out of his sight, as my mother likes to repeat. For example, I'd rather not remember the whole fifth grade (the era of glasses and pink braces), and who wants to relive the first day of middle school? And tedious family outings, pointless algebra lessons, menstrual cramps and slobbery kisses, I could hardly endure the first time ...
Although I would love to relive the best moments: when at the reunion evening Rob Cochran and I first made out in the middle of the dance floor and everyone saw that we were together; when Lindsey, Elodie and Ellie and I got drunk and made snow angels in May(To get a "snow angel", you need to lie on your back in the snow and move and spread your arms and legs. The resulting print will resemble an angel in a long robe and with wings. (Hereinafter, the translator's notes.)} leaving hefty prints on Ellie's lawn; when at my sixteenth birthday party we lit a hundred candles in the backyard and danced on the table; when Lindsey and I played a prank on Clara Seuss on Halloween and the cops chased us, and we laughed so hard that we almost threw up, what I would like to remember, what I would like to be remembered.
But before I died, I didn't think about Rob or any other guy. I didn’t think about our outrageous antics with my friends. I didn’t even think about the family, or about how the morning light paints the walls of my bedroom in a creamy shade, or how the azaleas outside my window smell in July - cinnamon and honey..
Instead, I thought of Vicki Hallinan.
Namely, about the case in the fourth grade, when Lindsey announced in front of everyone in physical education that she would not take Vicki to play "bouncer". “She’s too fat,” Lindsey blurted out, “you can hit her with your eyes closed.” I wasn't friends with Lindsey then, but she was already saying some damn funny things, and I laughed along with everyone else, and Vicki's face turned purple, like the inside of a storm cloud.
Here's what I remembered in the moment before my death, when I was supposed to know something amazing about my past: the smell of varnish and the creak of our sneakers on the polished floor; the tightness of my polyester shorts; a booming echo in the large, deserted gymnasium, as if not twenty-five people were laughing, but many more. And Vicki's face.
The strange thing is that I haven't thought about it for a hundred years. And I didn’t even know what it was in my memory, if you know what I mean. It's not like Vicki was traumatized or anything. Children constantly tease each other. Little importance. Someone is always laughing and laughing at someone. It happens every day, in every school, in every American town - and even, I think, all over the world. The whole point of growing up is to learn to stay among those who laugh.
Vicki wasn't really that fat, she just had baby-sized cheeks and a tummy, and before middle school she had lost three inches of weight altogether. She even became friends with Lindsey; they played field hockey together and greeted each other in the corridors. Once in the ninth grade, Vicki threw a party, we all got drunk and laughed like a urine, especially Vicki, until her face became almost as purple as many years ago in the gym.
It was weirdness number one.
It was even stranger that we only discussed this - in the sense of how everything will be before death. I don't remember how we got into this topic, I only remember Elodie complaining that I always sit next to the driver and refused to fasten my seat belt; she leaned over for Lindsey's iPod even though I owned the DJ rights. I tried to explain my theory of near-death "best moments" and everyone started to suggest suitable options. Lindsey, of course, wanted to know once again that she had been enrolled at Duke. Ellie, who, as usual, complained that she was cold and threatened to die on the spot from pneumonia, managed to say that she wanted to last forever on her first date with Matt Wilde, and this did not surprise anyone. Lindsey and Elodie were smoking, and freezing rain was pouring in through the half-open windows. The road was narrow and winding; on either side the trees waved their dark bare branches as if the wind had made them dance.
Elodie put on the song "Splinter" by the Fellasi to annoy Ellie, perhaps tired of her whining. It was Ellie's song with Matt, who left it in September. Ellie called Elodie a bitch, unbuckled her belt, leaned forward and tried to grab her iPod. Lindsey was indignant that someone had poked her in the neck with an elbow; the cigarette fell out of her mouth and landed between her legs. Cursing loudly, Lindsey began to brush the ashes off the seat cushion, Elodie and Ellie fought, and I tried to reconcile them, reminding me of how we did "snow angels" in May. Tires skidded on the wet road, the car was full of cigarette smoke, its clubs hovering in the cabin like ghosts.
And then suddenly a white flame flared up ahead. Lindsey yelled something—I couldn't make out the word, either quiet, or dashing, or donkey—and the car flew off the road and into the black mouth of the forest. I heard a terrible sound - the grinding of iron on iron and the clinking of glass - and I smelled the smell of burning. Machine to smithereens. I still had time to wonder if Lindsey had put out her cigarette or not.
Then the face of Vicky Hallinan resurfaced from the past, and a booming laugh swirled around, turning into a squeal.
And after - nothing.
You see, the bottom line is that you don't know in advance. Don't wake up with a bad feeling. You don't see shadows on a clear afternoon. Forgetting to tell your parents you love them or, in my case, forgetting to say goodbye to them altogether.
If you're like me, you wake up seven minutes and forty-seven seconds before your best friend is due to pick you up. You are too worried about how many roses you will get on Cupid's Day, and therefore you only have time to get dressed, brush your teeth and pray that the cosmetic bag will be at the bottom of the bag and you will be able to make up in the car.
If you're like me, your last day starts like this...
- Beep-beep! Lindsey screams.
A couple of weeks ago, my mom yelled at her for ringing the horn at 6:55 every morning, and Lindsey came up with this trick.
- I'm going! I say, even though she can see me tumble out the front door, pulling on my jacket and shoving the binder into my bag at the same time.
At the last moment, Izzy, my eight-year-old sister, catches me.
- What? I turn around in a whirlwind.
Izzy, as befits a little sister, has a built-in radar with which she determines if I'm busy, late or chatting on the phone with my boyfriend. And then she immediately starts to get me.
“You forgot your gloves,” she says.
In fact, she gets: “You forgot the perf”. She refuses to visit a speech therapist and be treated for her lisp, although all her classmates laugh at her. The sister says she likes to talk like that.
I take the gloves from her. They are cashmere, and my sister must have smeared them with peanut butter. She's always digging through jars of this stuff.
Book L. Oliver "Before I fall" (Before I fall)"...People live in hope. Even after death, hope is the only thing that does not let you die completely."
Yesterday, with great greed, I finished reading a book that I found quite by accident and downloaded just in case - I absolutely can’t think of anything to read lately ..
And this book grabbed me. Not immediately, but gradually, I realized that I was drawn to her, attracted with each new repetition of the same day in the life of the main character. Her last day.
Suppose you did something very bad, but realized it too late, when nothing can be changed. Suppose you are given a chance to make amends after all, and you try again and again, but each time something does not work, and this leads you to despair.
It was in this situation that Samantha Kingston found herself, who always succeeded, and who did not know any serious problems. Friday, February 12, was supposed to be just another day in her life. But it turned out that on that day she died. However, something keeps Samantha among the living, and she is forced to live this day over and over again, painfully trying to figure out how to save her life, and discovering the true value of everything that she risks losing.
Lauren Oliver is a young star in the American literary firmament. Her debut novel was published in 2010, and this book hit the bestseller list almost immediately. We are talking about "Before I Fall", a novel that is very popular not only in the United States, but also in many other countries of the world. Not so long ago, the book was published in Russia, where it also received a very warm welcome.
The novel is aimed at teenagers aged 16-17, however, in fact, the readership of this novel includes readers of an older age. They are "captivated" by the same ease of presentation, combined with a rather interesting plot, as well as a correctly chosen topic that evokes strong emotions.
The plot revolves around a group of teenage girls whose lives are more than prosperous: "glamorous" high school students who have enough money, opportunities and free time to spend their days shopping, attending parties and having fun. The school in the list of their interests is far from the first place. One day, Sam, a girl from this company, dies in a car accident, but she does not manage to leave completely - she will live her last day seven more times, trying to fix something.
"Try not to judge. Don't forget that there is no difference between me and you."
This book, despite the "secondary" plot (similar plot moves were used in "Groundhog Day") makes a pretty strong impression, and for each reader it will be different. Some will see in the main character not the most attractive character who gets what she deserves, others will appreciate her attempts to change and change her last day. In any case, "Before I Fall" will force you to draw conclusions, and, thanks to the author's accents, they will be very unambiguous.
Lauren Oliver
"Before I Fall"
Unforgettable memory
Simon Emil Knudsen II
Peter!
Thanks for the wonderful moments.
I miss you
They say that before death, the whole life flashes before my eyes, but it turned out differently for me.
To be honest, it always seemed to me that all these stories with the last moment, mental scanning of life sound rather ominous. Whoever remembers the old is out of his sight, as my mother likes to repeat. For example, I'd rather not remember the whole fifth grade (the era of glasses and pink braces), and who wants to relive the first day of middle school? And tedious family outings, pointless algebra lessons, menstrual cramps and slobbery kisses, I could hardly endure the first time ...
Although I would love to relive the best moments: when at the reunion evening Rob Cochran and I first made out in the middle of the dance floor and everyone saw that we were together; when Lindsey, Elodie and Ellie and I got drunk and made snow angels in Mayleaving hefty prints on Ellie's lawn; when at my sixteenth birthday party we lit a hundred candles in the backyard and danced on the table; when Lindsey and I played a trick on Clara Seuss on Halloween and the cops chased us and we laughed so hard we almost threw up, something I wish I could remember, something I wish I could remember.
But before I died, I didn't think about Rob or any other guy. I didn’t think about our outrageous antics with my friends. I didn’t even think about the family, or about how the morning light paints the walls of my bedroom in a creamy shade, or how the azaleas outside my window smell in July - cinnamon and honey.
Instead, I thought of Vicki Hallinan.
Namely, about the case in the fourth grade, when Lindsey announced in front of everyone in physical education that she would not take Vicki to play "bouncer". "She's too fat," Lindsey blurted out, "you can hit her with your eyes closed." I wasn't friends with Lindsey then, but she was already saying some damn funny things, and I laughed along with everyone else, and Vicki's face turned purple, like the inside of a storm cloud.
Here's what I remembered in the moment before my death, when I was supposed to know something amazing about my past: the smell of varnish and the creak of our sneakers on the polished floor; the tightness of my polyester shorts; a booming echo in the large, deserted gymnasium, as if not twenty-five people were laughing, but many more. And Vicki's face.
The strange thing is that I haven't thought about it for a hundred years. And I didn’t even know what it was in my memory, if you know what I mean. It's not like Vicki was traumatized or anything. Children constantly tease each other. Little importance. Someone is always laughing, and someone is being laughed at. It happens every day, in every school, in every American town - and even, I think, all over the world. The whole point of growing up is to learn to stay among those who laugh.
Vicki wasn't really that fat, she just had baby-sized cheeks and a tummy, and before middle school she had lost three inches of weight altogether. She even became friends with Lindsey; they played field hockey together and greeted each other in the corridors. Once in the ninth grade, Vicki threw a party, we all got drunk and laughed like a urine, especially Vicki, until her face became almost as purple as many years ago in the gym.
It was weirdness number one.
It was even stranger that we only discussed this - in the sense of how everything will be before death. I don't remember how we got into this topic, I only remember Elodie complaining that I always sit next to the driver and refused to fasten my seat belt; she leaned over for Lindsey's iPod even though I owned the DJ rights. I tried to explain my theory of near-death "best moments" and everyone started to suggest suitable options. Lindsey, of course, wanted to know once again that she had been enrolled at Duke. Ellie, who, as usual, complained that she was cold and threatened to die on the spot from pneumonia, managed to say that she wanted to last forever on her first date with Matt Wilde, and this did not surprise anyone. Lindsey and Elodie were smoking, and freezing rain was pouring in through the half-open windows. The road was narrow and winding; on either side the trees waved their dark bare branches as if the wind had made them dance.
Elodie put on the song "Splinter" by the Fellasi to annoy Ellie, perhaps tired of her whining. It was Ellie's song with Matt, who left it in September. Ellie called Elodie a bitch, unbuckled her belt, leaned forward and tried to grab her iPod. Lindsey was indignant that someone had poked her in the neck with an elbow; the cigarette fell out of her mouth and landed between her legs. Cursing loudly, Lindsey began to brush the ashes off the seat cushion, Elodie and Ellie fought, and I tried to reconcile them, reminding me of how we did "snow angels" in May. Tires skidded on the wet road, the car was full of cigarette smoke, its clubs hovering in the cabin like ghosts.
And then suddenly a white flame flared up ahead. Lindsey yelled something - I couldn't make out the word, either "quiet", or "dashing", or "donkey" - and the car flew off the road into the black mouth of the forest. I heard a terrible sound - the grinding of iron on iron and the clinking of glass - and I smelled the smell of burning. Machine to smithereens. I still had time to wonder if Lindsey had put out her cigarette or not.
Then the face of Vicky Hallinan resurfaced from the past, and a booming laugh swirled around, turning into a squeal.
And after - nothing.
You see, the bottom line is that you don't know in advance. Don't wake up with a bad feeling. You don't see shadows on a clear afternoon. Forgetting to tell your parents you love them or, in my case, forgetting to say goodbye to them altogether.
If you're like me, you wake up seven minutes and forty-seven seconds before your best friend is due to pick you up. You are too worried about how many roses you will get on Cupid's Day, and therefore you only have time to get dressed, brush your teeth and pray that the cosmetic bag will be at the bottom of the bag and you will be able to make up in the car.
If you're like me, your last day starts like this...
Beep beep! Lindsey screams.
A couple of weeks ago, my mom yelled at her for ringing the horn at 6:55 every morning, and Lindsey came up with this trick.
To the unforgettable memory of Simon Emil Knudsen II
Thanks for the wonderful moments. I miss you
Copyright © 2010 by Lauren Oliver
© Kilanova A., translation into Russian, 2011
© Edition in Russian, design. LLC "Publishing House" E ", 2017
Prologue
They say that before death, the whole life flashes before my eyes, but it turned out differently for me.
To be honest, it always seemed to me that all these stories with the last moment, mental scanning of life sound rather ominous. Whoever remembers the old is out of his sight, as my mother likes to repeat. For example, I'd rather not remember the whole fifth grade (the era of glasses and pink braces), and who wants to relive the first day of middle school? And tedious family outings, pointless algebra lessons, menstrual cramps and slobbery kisses, I could hardly endure the first time ...
Although I would love to relive the best moments: when at the reunion evening Rob Cochran and I first made out in the middle of the dance floor and everyone saw that we were together; when Lindsey, Elodie and Ellie and I got drunk and made snow angels in May(To get a "snow angel", you need to lie on your back in the snow and move and spread your arms and legs. The resulting print will resemble an angel in a long robe and with wings. (Hereinafter, the translator's notes.)} leaving hefty prints on Ellie's lawn; when at my sixteenth birthday party we lit a hundred candles in the backyard and danced on the table; when Lindsey and I played a prank on Clara Seuss on Halloween and the cops chased us, and we laughed so hard that we almost threw up, what I would like to remember, what I would like to be remembered.
But before I died, I didn't think about Rob or any other guy. I didn’t think about our outrageous antics with my friends. I didn’t even think about the family, or about how the morning light paints the walls of my bedroom in a creamy shade, or how the azaleas outside my window smell in July - cinnamon and honey..
Instead, I thought of Vicki Hallinan.
Namely, about the case in the fourth grade, when Lindsey announced in front of everyone in physical education that she would not take Vicki to play "bouncer". “She’s too fat,” Lindsey blurted out, “you can hit her with your eyes closed.” I wasn't friends with Lindsey then, but she was already saying some damn funny things, and I laughed along with everyone else, and Vicki's face turned purple, like the inside of a storm cloud.
Here's what I remembered in the moment before my death, when I was supposed to know something amazing about my past: the smell of varnish and the creak of our sneakers on the polished floor; the tightness of my polyester shorts; a booming echo in the large, deserted gymnasium, as if not twenty-five people were laughing, but many more. And Vicki's face.
The strange thing is that I haven't thought about it for a hundred years. And I didn’t even know what it was in my memory, if you know what I mean. It's not like Vicki was traumatized or anything. Children constantly tease each other. Little importance. Someone is always laughing and laughing at someone. It happens every day, in every school, in every American town - and even, I think, all over the world. The whole point of growing up is to learn to stay among those who laugh.
Vicki wasn't really that fat, she just had baby-sized cheeks and a tummy, and before middle school she had lost three inches of weight altogether. She even became friends with Lindsey; they played field hockey together and greeted each other in the corridors. Once in the ninth grade, Vicki threw a party, we all got drunk and laughed like a urine, especially Vicki, until her face became almost as purple as many years ago in the gym.
It was weirdness number one.
It was even stranger that we only discussed this - in the sense of how everything will be before death. I don't remember how we got into this topic, I only remember Elodie complaining that I always sit next to the driver and refused to fasten my seat belt; she leaned over for Lindsey's iPod even though I owned the DJ rights. I tried to explain my theory of near-death "best moments" and everyone started to suggest suitable options. Lindsey, of course, wanted to know once again that she had been enrolled at Duke. Ellie, who, as usual, complained that she was cold and threatened to die on the spot from pneumonia, managed to say that she wanted to last forever on her first date with Matt Wilde, and this did not surprise anyone. Lindsey and Elodie were smoking, and freezing rain was pouring in through the half-open windows. The road was narrow and winding; on either side the trees waved their dark bare branches as if the wind had made them dance.
Elodie put on the song "Splinter" by the Fellasi to annoy Ellie, perhaps tired of her whining. It was Ellie's song with Matt, who left it in September. Ellie called Elodie a bitch, unbuckled her belt, leaned forward and tried to grab her iPod. Lindsey was indignant that someone had poked her in the neck with an elbow; the cigarette fell out of her mouth and landed between her legs. Cursing loudly, Lindsey began to brush the ashes off the seat cushion, Elodie and Ellie fought, and I tried to reconcile them, reminding me of how we did "snow angels" in May. Tires skidded on the wet road, the car was full of cigarette smoke, its clubs hovering in the cabin like ghosts.
And then suddenly a white flame flared up ahead. Lindsey yelled something—I couldn't make out the word, either quiet, or dashing, or donkey—and the car flew off the road and into the black mouth of the forest. I heard a terrible sound - the grinding of iron on iron and the clinking of glass - and I smelled the smell of burning. Machine to smithereens. I still had time to wonder if Lindsey had put out her cigarette or not.
Then the face of Vicky Hallinan resurfaced from the past, and a booming laugh swirled around, turning into a squeal.
And after - nothing.
You see, the bottom line is that you don't know in advance. Don't wake up with a bad feeling. You don't see shadows on a clear afternoon. Forgetting to tell your parents you love them or, in my case, forgetting to say goodbye to them altogether.
If you're like me, you wake up seven minutes and forty-seven seconds before your best friend is due to pick you up. You are too worried about how many roses you will get on Cupid's Day, and therefore you only have time to get dressed, brush your teeth and pray that the cosmetic bag will be at the bottom of the bag and you will be able to make up in the car.
If you're like me, your last day starts like this...