Pitiful child, Not yet ready to die. I shall give you the gift of Time. But my gift has a price to be paid, On your twenty-first year, I'll whisk you away. Away to my world to be my bride.
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Pitiful child, Not yet ready to die. I shall give you the gift of Time. But my gift has a price to be paid, On your twenty-first year, I'll whisk you away. Away to my world to be my bride.
Dear Diary,
If you are reading this, that means my beloved Jewel is already dead. I beg you not to read my tales. I encounter many mysteries while trying to accomplish my goals. My tales are filled w...