Emily, 15, pale, pansexual, pessimistic, poetry enthusiast. I drink copious amounts of tea.
Potterhead, Sherlockian, Whovian, Plague Rat, member of the Repo! Army.
A young, almost penniless Goth with an addiction to shoes I cannot afford (Irregular Choice, why must you do this to me?), old books and my antique sewing machine I can't use yet because I'm too clumsy and end up sewing my fingers together.
Dying is an art, like everything else. I do it exceptionally well. I do it so it feels like hell. I do it so it feels real. I guess you could say I've a call.