The silent twist of fate is most cruel, for I will bleed raw in your arms.
Rosie knows she's destined to, how to say it - bite the dust before she turns twenty five. Every night, the same dream. And every morning? The same horror she seems to be li...
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Dear love of mine,
I need you to know, I don't lose people. People lose me. Understand this, please. It's honestly all I ask for. Well, apart from living my life to the fullest before I - how to put it - bite the dust.
By the age of seven, I was scared. The things I saw in my dreams were never-ending. Every single night, I would see flashes of what I eventually figured out was my own destiny. Am I some fortune teller? We'll never know. I screamed and screamed, and my parents being an awful menace, sent me to an nut house. Yes, small and terrified seven year old me, In an institution with psychopathic killers and schizophrenics.
My 'childhood' wasn't the best, per say, but we roll with what we have. By the age of thirteen, I was angry. I was filled with rage towards the fates, and I swore and kicked everything in my reach until my body gave out. I was one hell of a teen, you could say. (Side note: not the time to be making jokes, Rosalie!!)
On my fourteenth birthday, I was extracted from the asylum by my auntie Renata, possibly the only person in my family who ever ACTUALLY cared about me. Shocker, am I right??? She and I lived in a cosy apartment in France, content with life. Or at least, I thought. Long story short, auntie Ren was involved in an underground drug dealer circle and I, of course, were the scape goat. So it turned out, no one in my family actually wanted me. (Sounds depressing as I write it)
By the age of sixteen, I was finally content. I agreed with the fact that I would die, and it would be in my lover's arms. My adoptive family was more accepting than my own; sometimes I even forget that they're not my biological parents. Seriously though, all hail Mia and Diego Bloom. I love you guys, even if these letters won't be meant for you.
Ill repeat it again, dear lover of mine. It will NOT be your fault when my time comes, trust me. I've lived through it so many times that I've come to a realisation and this letter, will be one of many.
