A story in which the daughter of the infamous Polly Gray didn't die after all
Adriana Gray
A girl who's been passed from family to family all her life, a girl who finally finds her real mother after all these years
Only to be thrown into a world of...
This story will begin with a few chapters about Adriana and her life before she meets Bonnie, but don't worry he'll be appearing very soon.
"Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring" - Marilyn Monroe
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• 1921 • | Adriana |
It was one job, just one fucking job His wife had said he'd be alone, that once I'd killed him she'd give me the money but he had four other men there Four other fucking men I had to fight off And now I'm staggering down watery lane with bruises, cuts, a concussion, broken ribs and two bullet holes in my arm and torso.
My hair was drenched in rain and I could feel my blood seeping through my dress, I was freezing and tired.
Adriana's Outfit
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I only came here to find my real mother I was staying with the Kean family traveling here, there and everywhere before this. When I was little I was living with a family just outside Birmingham in some quaint little village.
But after one too many tantrums, I eventually got sent back to the parish The fucking parish. Vile nuns who took out all their aggressions on the children, what I'd give to get my hands on sister Charlotte, the head of my institution The woman who used to beat me senseless whenever the mood took her.
Ruler bashed on my knuckles, books balanced on my head, chucked in a dark room to 'calm down', days without food.
Eventually being sent to Australia felt like a dream I loved it there, living on a farm and going to school, but even there I didn't fit in too well It was too secure, too safe, too controlled, I wanted to be free, I spent long nights out in the woods camping, days away in the fields
The couple looking after me were quite old and Barbara, my foster mother soon died, her husband couldn't cope and I was sent back home.
At age 10 I got sent back to Britain and got placed with a posh family in London, the couple who took me in were lovely and polite I never got comfortable enough to call them mum and dad though As nice as they were to me they had big expectations, expecting me to act and dress accordingly in public.
