In my mind there was always a version of me.
A better version.
The perfect version.
She was like this angel, a delicate flower fallen on dark steps.
Sometimes, she wasn't even me it was another person altogether.
A person who I felt safe with, and knew my deepest darkest secrets.
She was my best friend even if she wasn't real.
I called her Pram
YOU ARE READING
Pram
Roman pour AdolescentsA tale of girlhood and fantasies of a young woman's dream and imagination.