dear diary
this is my forty-ninth week in high school and i find it hard to go.
i dreamed of God, pleading him more time.
when i woke up, scott was crying on my lap.
he whispered my name every once in a while.
and kept kissing my fingers.
which was very nice.
scott: can i go with you?
me: no, there is a place only for me
scott: b-but i can't let you die, my love!
me: it is not for you to choose
scott: i wish that it would be
me: i wish the same
YOU ARE READING
Fallen Girl
Short StoryMary's dead. But she's still breathing. That's the problem. TRIGGER WARNING: DEADLY DISEASE, HARD TOPICS LIKE DEATH AND HEARTBREAK!!!
