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Dear Flick, I remember the first time you held my hand, and the first time you shot heroine into my veins. My dearest Flick, I remember the first time that I ran my fingers through your thick, brown curls, the ends fading into a mousy bleach blond that only grew shorter as those cascading brown curls grew each night. Flick, my darling, I'll miss you until the day that I die; the way you touched my skin, the way you would bite me, and cry my name in your sleep. The way you would tremble and shake, and hold onto me to never leave you. Flick, I didn't want to leave you. I hope that today you read this, and that your grey eyes feel over the words that my heart continues to pour for you. Flick, the angel who broke my heart. I'll love you forever, Miss Macey Arlo
Day One
