Rosewood, Rosewood. It's a hell of a place, parents with their charming grins and surreptious ways.
Rosewood, Rosewood. It's a hell of a town, young adults who can never be understood by anyone around. Predatory while fuzzy and warm.
Rosewood, Rosewood. It's a hell bound home. Beguiling teens who'll never know their place. Liars and people who just want to get their way
When Emily thinks of Rosewood, she thinks of lost love and unnecessary angst.
She thinks of Hanna Marin's sheepish grin and Mona Vanderwaal's smug smirk.
She thinks of Alison Dilaurentis' angelic laugh and Charlotte Dilaurentis' merciless eyes.
She thinks of Spencer Hastings' husky and friendly voice, and the one of Alex Drake, which could of been Spencer's in a different world.
She thinks of Aria Montgomery's outrageous clothes. Of Ezra Fitz, and whether he is actually Aria's happy ending.
She thinks of Grace and Lily, and if they'll ever know the truth of how they were conceived. Of unanswered questions and unresolved matters.
She thinks of Rosewood High, and the demons it holds. Of Maya and memories that are fading. Of Sara along with a tattoo that says what she wishes she has.
Of all the blood on her hands and all the times her blood could of been on another's hand.
Of Nate and the guilt that came with that, of Noel Kahn, and the guilt that just wouldn't come with that.
She thinks of late night calls, comforting the broken voices that went through the same things that she did.
Then she thinks of dark days underground and nightmares about the wrong twin. Of truths she can never say and stories that aren't her's to tell.
Emily thinks of the greatest things and people she ever met, and the absolute worse.
The former category wins, not in numbers, but in strength, if only barely. So maybe it's okay.
When Spencer thinks of Rosewood, she thinks about hidden family member and lost blood-ties.
She thinks of the good and bad guys she's related to, then realizes how easily everyone's places could of been swapped.
She thinks of Mary and Alex Drake, of cousins and half-siblings.
Of adopted mothers and lying fathers. Of people who are her real family.
She thinks of Wren Kingston, and the look on Melissa's face as he kissed the minor. Of things that shouldn't of been but she can't bring herself to regret.
Of Mona Vanderwaal, and the disappearance of her along with Alex and Mary. Of second chances that maybe shouldn't of been given but were well deserved.
She thinks of Toby Cavanaugh, and days of sneaking around a mental asylum in a black hoodie. Of things that aren't what seem, of illusion for better or worse.
She thinks of Hanna Marin, and a boy who never should of gotten between them. Of torture; given and received, and loyalty.
She thinks of Aria Montgomery, and the sight of those doe eyes obscured by a dark hood. Of betrayal and best friends.
She thinks of Emily Fields, and whether she should tell her that she recognizes the twins' eyes. Of white lies and heartfelt talks.
She thinks of Alison Dilaurentis, and what would of happened if she didn't trip that stormy night. Of pills and sincere apologies.
Spencer Hastings thinks of dark nights shaking from fear or withdraw, but she also thinks of shinning day, laughing at someone's joke.
There are things that she whispers over wine but they're slowly becoming rarer. So maybe it's okay.
When Aria thinks of Rosewood, she thinks of guilty concessions and anticlimactic romantic plotlines.
She thinks of Ezra Fitz, and that report that has one copy stored away. Of descit and innocent eyes.
She thinks of Jason Dilaurentis, of glasses of wine he pours for her before switching to ginger ale for himself. Of lost chances and cherished memories.
She thinks of Mona, Charlotte and Alex. Of times she looks at that number stolen from Hanna with a unsent draft, why did you go easy on me?
Of Noel Kahn, and how she ever trusted him. Of toxic relationships and haunting what-ifs?
Of Jake and Holden, and a better world where she did fall in love with someone who wasn't tangled in this messed up past.
Of better worlds, and those which are far worse. Of a world where no one figures out it's Alex Drake, and they all live happy after anyways.
Of boxes and trains, of dolls and dollhouses. Of things corrupted and never restored.
Of late night stake-outs and even later movie marathons.
Of Hanna, and a barn along with her impish smile. Of Spencer, and a gunshot along with her clever laugh.
Of Emily, and her heartbroken eyes that just keep showing up along with her determined chuckle. Even of Alison Dilaurentis, and that tale of chocking on dirt along with her sorrysorry glaze.
And lastly, of Ezra Fitz, and all the things wrong with this love along with his charming tone and baby blue eyes.
Aria Montgomery thinks of broken vows that will always go ignored and a story that she isn't sure will get a happy ending.
Yet she'll forever have that feeling of belonging when Spencer or Emily, Hanna or Alison, looks into her eyes. So maybe it's okay.
When Hanna thinks of Rosewood, she thinks of bad decisions and destructive copping.
She thinks of fathers who yell and scream. Of people who just get up and leave. Of those suicidal enough to come back.
She thinks of love, and how it destroys it self. One for another, a lover for a soulmate. She thinks of stuff that still needs to be resolved.
Of Caleb and Spencer, and of Alison and Aria. Of good people who didn't deserve what happened to them, until they did.
Of teenagers afraid to tell the truth, and adults who don't know how. Of forged ID's for alcoholic beverages and incognito duties.
Of a world without liars. A world without Alison. A world without Spencer, Aria and Emily. Without Caleb.
She thinks of nights getting plastered, just wanting to say sorry to her mom for things that she can never know.
Of Elliot Rollins, and people who got buried in hastily made graves. Deserved or not.
Of Mona Vanderwaal, and people who will never be explained. Of wolves in sheep's clothing. Of deceivers in red coats, black hoodies, and stylish dresses.
Of Ravenswood, and the secrets that the haunted town bares. Of ghosts and fate in a world of monsters.
Of scars that tell morbid stories, of bullet wounds and burn marks, and of the ones that resinate in the mind.
Of guns kept in locked drawers with codes that maybe eight people could guess. Of safety and rage, of assault charges dropped on the case of PTSD.
Hanna Marin thinks of trust issues, and how Rosewood once again claimed her as it's own. How no one escapes the town's clutches.
She also thinks of sleepovers, five grown woman not even having to admit they're scared. Being comforted by kindred souls and familiar voices. So maybe it's okay.
When People think of Rosewood, they think of murder and beautiful psychopaths.
Of kids who are pathological liars, and adults who hide sadism behind a welcoming smile.
Of the four girls who always seem to be at the center. Of Alison Dilaurentis, and rumors of who had killed her along with the strange feeling when she came back alive and healthy.
Of drug abusers and teenagers who make themselves throw up. Of poisonous love that some must bear.
Of Mona Vanderwaal and Charlotte Dilaurentis. Of all the times Mona talked to someone at school and Charlotte befriended someone under the name of CeCe.
Of Ian Thomas, Garrett Reynolds and Maya St. Germain. Of deaths never explained and lies never revealed.
Of where Mary Drake went. Of murderers, in self defense of not, wandering freely.
Of Caleb Rivers, Toby Cavanaugh and Ezra Fitz. Of parents, siblings and lovers that will always be connected to stories.
Of Hanna Marin, Emily Fields, Aria Montgomery and Spencer Hastings. Of people that stand between the line of unfortunate and troublesome.
When People think of Rosewood they think of spots on the 6:00 news, and missing parts of a overhanging story.
They think of bodies turning up in the perfect, perfect town that they call home. Of the town next door, and mysteries they will never know.
So maybe it's not okay, but maybe it will be.
Rosewood, Rosewood. Somehow we all have a place in this cunning town we call home. I'm no fool so I won't say it's great but it's host to enough love for it to be worth all the pain.