She was precious, like a flower. growing wild in a field under a forever blue sky. Her name was Elizabeth.
Lizzy grew up in a small town. Born and raised. Nothing ever really happened here.
She was sweet, dirty blonde hair in loose curls just above her shoulders. Green eyes as bright as a newborn child's. She was just 7 when her mother got into a horrible car accident. The day they laid her in the ground is the day her father lost his mind.
He was sent to a mental hospital to begin treatment. All seemed well. Six months passed and Lizzy cried as her father was put in the ground along side her mother, rope burns around his neck and bandages on his wrist. She was far from what you may call perfect. but she stayed hopeful as she moved to Maine to live with her Grandma.
This is where our story begins …
