000. through the years

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like a phoenix, i rise from the ashes

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like a phoenix, i rise from the ashes.











【 best viewed in 】
black, times new roman, medium!











【 brief intro 】
through the years!




when abigail laker was five, she tried to fly. she tried to soar straight into the sky and become one with the sun and the moon and disappear into the horizon as if it was her dead mother's awaiting arms.

when she was five, she failed. she discovered she could not fly, and she could not hug her dead mom. she learned a lot of things that fated day, actually; she learned what a broken bone felt like, and she learned what it was like to feel dizzy as more and more blood seeped out of her cracked skull. she further learned just how lonely a hospital bed was when she had no true family.

when abigail was six, she realized she had to mature quickly. thrown straight into foster care because of her absent — and heavily alcohol-driven — father, she had no home. she had no one. all she had now was a car ride that was eerily silent, nerve wracking and chill-inducing as it drove her to a place she'd never seen, nor ever been to before.

by the age of eight, abigail finally knew what it was like to be loved. the only remnants of the feeling died off when her mother did, and that last, final sting of her father's hand on her cheek. it all was gone; but not anymore.

the quill family was as sweet as they came. they lived in a humble home surrounded by forest and fields of green, a cozy vibe — like freshly baked cookies in fall, and a soft breeze in summer — enveloping their wooden walls and worn furnishing.

darius quill, the hardworking father of the family of three (now four), was a man with calloused hands and a rough voice, yet wise with experience; a laugh that could light up the room and make you feel oh-so accomplished because wow, you caused that sound?

DEAR EX LOVER, pope heywardWhere stories live. Discover now