Literature
America x Reader- Empty Grave
I kneel beside the marble headstone, not caring about dirt clinging to my white dress and trace the words with my finger, setting the single rose in my other hand in the freshly cut grass.
“The First death of [F/N] [L/N]”
A smile plays across my lips as I think back to that day in the hospital, when everything had gone black. When my heart had stopped.
However, that was not the end.
To quote the doctors, I was a fighter.
And it was true. I hadn’t given up. Even when I had seen the light at the end of the tunnel.
I came back.
Ripped away from the clutches of death.
Technically, I was pronounced dead, and remained that