4: 𝐁𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐞, 𝐎𝐡 𝐋𝐨𝐫𝐝...

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If you cry easily about Bowie's death like me, don't watch his last ever song above.
I'm currently in tears, I look like a baby having an extreme emotional-fit.
Also, I'm moving next year and I'm going to be dedicating my bedroom to Bowie.
Enjoy this chapter! I love you all so much and appreciate you. Don't know why I say 'yall' or 'guys' since no one reads my fanfics unless their about fucking Harry Potter.
Fuck Harry Potter.
self centred dick. :)

SORRY AND ENJOY!

~MIA- TWO DAYS LATER~

Fortunately, Mia had found an old sofa in an empty ally-way, and was currently counting down the days until she could go to David's CD signing.
His very last song, Lazarus came into her head.

Tears prickled at her eyes, as she started humming the amazing song.

His life is in my hands. His life is in my hands. His life is in my hands. His life is in my hands.
Ok. Stop crying. He's not dead yet, and you can stop it from happening.
You can save him Mia. You Can.

Wiping the tears that managed to escape, Mia swallowed the lump in her throat, gasping for air.
Her lungs begging for the vital-force of respiration.

Dropping down onto her throbbing knees, She heavily started inhaling through her nose, her throat completely blocked.
The lump in her throat slightly rised, Mia tried to push her fingers down her throat, trying to gag.

Sure enough, the lump in her throat came flying out of her mouth in the form of, vomit.
There couldn't have been much of it however, because the only thing Mia had eaten so far in 2015, was tiramisu and ice cream.
It didn't sound so bad, but it really was.

Savouring every heavy, long, inhale, Mia sighed, pressing her head lightly against the worn-down sofa.

Bzzz!
Bzzz!

Mias phone buzzed in her back-pocket, she groaned in confusion, the burning liquid continued to painfully flow out of her mouth.
Pursing her lips, She snatched her phone, unlocking it.

Wait... what?!
How is Dad messaging me?!

"Arthur

23/7/20- 8.47pm:

"I'm going to be late home tonight, make my dinner please. And come out of your room."

Lovely Jubbly.
And a very kind voice mail from Arthur,

"Im going to be late. You didn't reply to my texts and wouldn't answer my FUCKING calls as usual, so, you'll hear it from here.
I know you were in my Lab, and when I come home and find out what you've done to it, I fucking promise you now, Mia 'BOWIE' your fucking dead. You hear me?!"

And I called him dad at one point.
Jesus fucking Christ, at least I know I have my death date when I go back to 2020.
How can he still be messaging me if I'm 5 years behind?!
What kind of fuckery is this?!

Anger flooding throughout her, Mia replied.

"And hello to you too, Arthur.
Yes, your correct. I do in-fact go by 'Mia Bowie' now, as I would rather die than go by your last name.
David Bowie has done more for me than you ever have or will. He fucking saved me from killing my self, and I'll be saving him from dying.
You care more about money than anything else.
That's why mum left, and that's why you deserve nothing more than to fucking die.
I will NOT be making your dinner, ever again.
Fuck. You.

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