• England
    1784...


    another day passes and Jace is getting weaker. I fear the worst will come soon. We dont have enough money to pay for a docter. I sit in front of the bakery every day and take in the wonderful aromas thinking of the past when mother would bake the most wonderful smelling bread and the smell would last through the night and you wouldn't want to go to sleep.

    I beg for food and money but I usualy resort to pick pocketing.



    *please leave comments if you would like me to type up the rest of the story 3nodding *