This is a love story This is our story This is the story of how we loved each other, and how hope is only a tale I can still hear him. I don't know why I trusted him. "You're as talented as yourself." he told me. Why am I thinking about him? He is dead. He is gone. He does not exist. Not anymore. It's all my fault. My name is Fern. I should be dead. He should still be here. He should still be alive.... We met on the coldest day. My paws were slipping away from me. My whiskers were frozen. My eyes couldn't see the hope. And my heart was stone cold. I don't say his name. It hurts too much to remember. Fox.