I was right here last month, sitting on the cusp of disliking this title. Young Liars has become a book I fear. I get a load of the weekly releases and see Lapham’s work sitting at the bottom of my retailer’s list and I start to gather a wildly mixed bag of emotions. On one hand I’m excited because I get to step into the world of the most gloriously f***ed up set of characters I’ve ever read. I get to see where there sex and drug abusing lives end up next. I get to find out who’s screwing who and with what. But at the same time I get to experience the darkest gamut of happenings I’ve ever laid eyes on in a 32 page blitz. The book just doesn’t stop. It’s God damn relentless.

It’s not even as if the group of (sort of) friends spotlighted in the series started out as something grand and wonderful. They weren’t good people that I wanted to jump up and defend. They were losers and lowlifes, the kind of people most would avoid. So why is it that I’ve become so attached? I don’t know. I can’t answer that and, to me, it’s nearly scary.

So we pick up in issue #6 with Danny’s johnson missing. Cee Cee, along with Sadie’s British friend Puss Bag, is dragging him from the hospital to catch up with Saddie and the crew that ran out to steal the painting. As we move forward, we learn that two of the group have contacted those chasing Saddie and are giving them specific locales and destinations. Before the end of the issue, our friends find themselves in a situation that would certainly ruin the series as we know it. How can you ruin this series? I’m not even sure. It’s not like killing off a few Care Bears.

We also find out exactly what happened between Danny and Saddie during her accident. We learn how the bullet wound up in her head and, frankly, we learn to hate her. Saddie was horrifically merciless when it came to dealing with Danny before she was shot in the head. She didn’t love him, she despised him. I can’t say I understand what Lapham is after when he makes Saddie out to be such a bad person. All it does is defame the one character worth liking; Danny. He goes from being this heroic fellow that is living life to the fullest with his deranged and dying girlfriend and he winds up being this pathetic sack of worthlessness that almost makes me sick. Judging by the masochistic tone that the rest of this book has set up, this dislike of all characters that Lapaham has set up is certainly not an error or a mistake. I just don’t understand why he does it.

But, like I said, I still like it. I think that’s what is most disturbing here. It isn’t the scenarios and the gruesome images that happen in Young Liars that make me queasy. It isn’t the bloodshed or the perversion or the killing that makes me shift uncomfortably while I read, it’s the fact that I enjoy it so much. It’s just so twisted and deranged that I’m hooked. I’m hooked on the horrible things Young Liars does to me. I love it. You will too, unless you’re normal. But who is?

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