Hello Again My Lovelies!
This FanFiction is dedicated to the Late, Great, Aladdin Zane, Our Starman, Ziggy Stardust, DAVID BOWIE!
I hope you all enjoy this!
It really means a lot to me the amount of love I got from @DizzyPine in my last fanfic, You...
Hey my Lovelies! I am so happy that you enjoyed my recently completed fanfic "You Pale Jewel" I had so much fun writing it and the sequel to it will be coming out after I've completed this fanfic! Love you all! ENJOY!
~MIA~
The Mysterious girl sat, hand against the darkened window, hugging her knees. Her hair blew against her face as the draft from outside blew under the sill. As she watched everyone passing by, like it was a normal day, she smacked her hand off the window, causing a large 'Thump'
He was dead, and there was nothing she could do about it. Absolutely, Nothing. Ice-Cold tears fell from her chocolate orbs, she wiped them with the sleeve of her pale red Bowie jumper, her cheeks flushed.
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As she softly turned, she longingly stared at every single Bowie poster she had purchased in the past. They were all blue-tacked or duck-taped up against the wall. More icy tears came, but she didn't bother to wipe them away this time. She deserved to cry, Damnit.
Her Father cares more about his fame and career than he ever will about her, the only time he spends his 'precious' time on her, is when he is counting all the things she does wrong for him and his fame. He was just a big joke. Or like Bowie would say, Hot Tramp, but in her Fathers case, Psychotic Crazy Fame-Greedy Tramp.
The amount of times her Father said she belonged in a Mental Hospital or something, as she claimed when she saw a barn owl once, that it was Jareth coming to take her away forever. "You Wish..." She scoffed to herself, and stood, making her way to the beanbag in the corner, surrounded by two small book shelves and a blanket going over it as a roof.
Spreading her legs out, Mia whimpered, softly, but not too loud to continuously have her Father go; "Oh Yeah! It's so hard for you! Your not the one collecting £3Million pounds because of their hard work!"
'Yes, Dad. It's so hard being a multi-millionaire and not baring a minute for your child. So hard.'
Mia scoffed again, grabbing the large notebook she constantly wrote in, each and every miserable day she had to go through.
Passage 1: June 12th 2016 'I wish Jareth were real. I wish David didn't die. Of course it was him that had to die. It had to be. Not anyone else, not Dad, Donald Trump, no no. It had to be David Bowie. For fuck sake I wish I was dead and not him. I miss him. Mia xxxxxx'
Passage 19: September 29th 2016
'Sorry it's been a few months, Ive been refusing to eat, or leave my room. Dads begged me to leave and talk to him, apparently he's gone broke again. Doesn't surprise me. I refuse to talk to someone who only bothers when they feel it's appropriate. And that someone is supposed to be my dad. The one who is my fucking parent. I mean, I feel for him after Mum left him, but I don't fucking blame her either.
