Marina Saige

Ever Yours, Rosalie

"-dead." "She's dead." My eyes close as the words echo in and out of each ear, repeating over and over incessantly, distorting more with each loop. Like the mosquito that stubbornly chases after the glowing light of your phone-screen at 3 AM, the doctor standing in front of me refuses to let me ignore them. But the only reason that mosquito got inside was because I left the door cracked and the only reason I left the door cracked was because the summer heat was getting to me and I still hadn't gotten around to getting a new AC unit after the last one died rather abruptly. I meant to get around to it but just figured I could get along fine and if I really needed one the world would find a way of getting me one. She always said I was waiting for the world to fix my broken pieces, I never thought she would end up being one of them.