It's not all Roses

Growing up you're told to listen and obey, to put others before yourself. You're told to dream big and have ambitions. You're told that when you grow up everything will happen the way it's supposed too. That you're on a path to success and it's up to you to follow that path and never stray. At least that's what my parents use to tell me.

As a child, I saw things through rose tinted glasses, so innocent and pure. Until the world slowly chips away at that virtue, darkening that image like dark frosted glass.

I still remember the day like it was yesterday. That feeling of utter agony ripping a hole through my chest, drowning me from the inside out. No matter how much oxygen filled my lungs, I couldn't breathe.

What happens when the bad boy makes it his mission to help you breathe? Will he succeed or realise it's a lost cause?