@agentwangâ asked: âwas it my fault?â
âno, i-ivy, no,â she whispered, softly, sadly, her voice shattering like glass and creating a wound where her mouth one was. mischa had spent her entire life living in fear of vulnerability, but she was tired of pretending to be strong. so she fell to pieces at ivyâs feet, none of them clean, all of them sharp. ânothing is your fault, da? look at me. NOTHING. itâs because heâs a piece of shit. itâs ... itâs because iâm a piece of shit.â she looked up at the girl, smiling miserably.
âitâs because i canât do anything right. not even die. itâs because iâm stupid and loud and i make boys like me for the wrong reason. i drink too much and swear too f u c k i n g much and no matter what i do
                                 everyone.Â
               always.                                               Â
                             DIES.  Â
mischa clasped the older womanâs hand and tried to laugh, to make it all seem okay. âso donât worry, okay? itâs my fault. it always is.â

















