Dear Juliet,
As I hold your dead body in my arms,I remember the signs that I failed to recognize. You always wore long sleeved shirts, even if it was 90 degrees outside; you told me it was lack of sleep, not exhaustion; you told me you wanted to take a vacation, but I wish I knew which vacation you meant when you said that. Why did you do that? Why? Why did you leave, butterfly? I sit in the darkness. I'm waiting for you to walk through the door. This is all a bad dream. I stare, and I think. I think of all the ups and downs we had, but none were as bad as this. You left me feeling this way, but it's my fault. I should have been better about this, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you. I can never feel you in my arms anymore. I can't hear the sweet sound of your voice. Please, come back? I can't do this. I can't carry on knowing that you will never come back. I read your note. Why did you do it to yourself? I saw the blood on your arms, and I will never forgive myself. The flowers they put on your grave will never be as beautiful as you.
-Michael
VOCÊ ESTÁ LENDO
Letters to Juliet *UNDER EDITING*
FanfictionWhen Michael Clifford comes home from a long tour, the last thing he expects to find is the image of his dead girlfriend, Juliet Grey, on the floor of their bathroom when he comes home. The only thing he can do to keep his sanity is to write letters...
