Frozen || m.c

Frozen || m.c

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Ghosts, spirits, dead people who have yet to cross over; whatever you want to call them I talk to them. I talk to the people who are stuck between death and the light. It's called being frozen and you become frozen when you have regrets of things you never did when you were alive. I help them and this is my story of the first time one ended up helping me in return. This story is dedicated to Simon. 29/6-1995 - 28/7-2014 I miss you ♡ © Olivia Wahlström, 2014
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“He smiled understandingly-much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced--or seemed to face--the whole eternal world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself, and assured you that it had precisely the impression of you that, at your best, you hoped to convey.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald . |This was my first story on here so it's not going to be deleted but because of its horrendousness, I'm discontinuing it. Sorry if you liked it!|

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