in Florida
Our song is playing, but I know that you'll never listen to it again. Not after what happened. It's a disappointment to all of us, my family loved you, but if it's any consolidation, I'll never let it be anyone else's song again.
A lot of things happened between you and me before you were taken from me. I remember them all; I don't know if you still do. Gods, I don't know where you are anymore. But that doesn't change anything. When you come back, (and I know you will,) we'll dance to it again.
I can't understand why you had to leave at such a young age. Sure, there were troubles at home, but did you realy have to leave me? Couldn't you have just . . . no, that's selfish. Had it not happened to you first, it would have happened to me. I miss you, and people have been asking why I cry so much now. But that isn't important. The important thing is that you know that I'll see you soon. I can find you.
It will be hard, of course. You died a long time ago, and necromancy isn't a big practice, but I'll find someone who can help us. I heard a story about calling out the names of demons in a full moon, and the next one is only two days away! As you know, I kept your bod(shell shell it's a shell not her body) shell nice and cool; the freezer's working perfectly. My Angel, if I get to see you again, things will be better. I know we had the fight, but that's okay, because in two days, I'm going to undo what I did.
The shaman told me to melt the gun down and pour it on your shell. He says it will appease your spirit. But I'm gonna make sure that you look beautiful when you come back. I have a nice dress and some earrings I picked out just for you. The song's true, though, even to this day. I really do get MISTY HOLDING YOUR HAND.
Love,
Michael.
*This story is dedicated to Amber Lanning, wherever you are.
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