far away from jeremy ross, in a rehabilitation center in minnesota, a girl with midnight black hair sat in a neatly made bed, reading. her head was wrapped tenderly and the bandages all along her body were half-seeped with blood. there was a cast on her right arm from her shoulder down and a brace on her ankle. the injuries had started to heal and she could almost walk again, but the trauma and disappointment lingered deep in her mind.
i should have known the building wasn't high enough.
her therapist came in an hour later, hoping to get a little bit out of her.
abruptly, she starts to speak.
"it started a few months back, when i met a boy who called himself 'J.R.'"....
Author Notes: i was just really bored. missed me?
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