It was an antique, four poster bed built entirely out of red cedar hearts. It had a pure white canopy with veils made of hand-made lace tied back to the posts. If the veils were released they would have enclosed the entire bed in a curtain of lace.

In the center of the bed, on top of a beautiful comforter, sat a young girl, her legs folded and her back straight, she was reading a book that lay open on her lap. At first glance, no one would have noticed anything strange, but if one looked a little closer, they'd see that the book wasn't really laying on her lap but was actually resting slightly above it. Also, if you studied the direction of her eyes as they wandered back and forth across the pages, you'd see that when her gaze finally reached the bottom, the page simply flipped over by itself.

Her long, blond, straight hair was tied back into a loose pony tail with a piece of red yarn. Her arms were slightly bent at the elbows, hands lightly cupping her knees, totally relaxed, it looked as if she could sit like that for hours on end. She appeared to be very tranquil and calm, one might think that she was at peace with the world. In fact, the only indication that all was not as it seemed, was her glistening baby blue eyes. They were brimming with unshed tears, pooling up until finally a single tear rolled down each cheek.

Suddenly, without warning, the book slammed shut and hurled itself across the room, and smashed into the vanity's mirror with a loud crash. The impact shattered the glass and sent small razor sharp slivers of the mirror all over the vanity and the floor.

The girl that was only moments ago so calm and relaxed, was now beating her fists on the bed and sobbing uncontrollably.

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