When a heart of flesh is not enough.
My ancestors passed down a heart disease to my grandfather, who in turn passed it down to my father and to me. It's not really a disease that makes one sick, we just live shorter. This disease should, theoretically, die out since it shortens our lifespan. How it is alive to this day is beyond me. If I was a normal girl, I wouldn't care much for my faulty heart. I wouldn't even know I had one in the first place. But I am not a normal little girl, no. I do not aim for the simple or the easy life. I want to tread where no one has been before, and discover what the ebb of time has mercilessly washed into the darkest corners of our civilization. This is my adventure.
