A headstone sits amongst a garden of marble statues and limestone memorials, tributes to the dead. It reads:

Angela

1977-1992

There's no last name only Angela carved in thick straight letters. The monument is cheap cement and in a few decades the letters and numbers will be so faded that you won't even be able to make out a name. There will just be a smooth gray expanse where Angela used to be. And those letters and numbers tell you no tales, no romanticized version of a story that was so small and insignificant that after it's implosion it managed to leave behind only this small, lonely slab of concrete as a marker of one little dead girl in a field of the deceased.

This slab of concrete only tells you the cold hard facts. Angela is dead.

A/N: so yea...i know its not much to go on and i'll try to upload the first chapter soon but don't give up on it just yet I promise this is going somewhere