Scarpebook 1

She can't quite remember what was it that started her interest in him. For as far back as her memory allows, he's always been there, he's always been a part of her life. Flipping through pages of her thoughts, there were trace of him everywhere, in every corner she turned, every hour she passed, every bit of the past 21 years, he's been there, he's been everywhere and everyhere. Her hands folded over a small silver case laying against her chest as she stared into the cloudy ceiling. It's a reflection of her mood, cloudy like the winter sky of Helsinki. Those snowy darkened days when she was briefly passing there, briefly in the sense that she captured only the magical melanchony of the place, the glaring beauty. The dolls next to her blinked their eyes in reply as she dropped a loud sigh and a slighted sob to her side. The burden could not be lifted, though it all went as she planned it. This is how it should have been, this was what I had wanted, she pounded these words into her mind, but still could not relieve herself from the idea that... He's no longer there anymore. There is no longer the green pasture flying across his eyes, no lake that dances to his smiles, no Earl Grey, no little girls in pink dresses. Father promised to let me out today, she finally rolled over and turned herself to face the reality of the day. Next to her bed was an Urn decorated with a burnt rose. The rose smiled at her and bowed its head.