"I don't know why we are here, but I'm pretty sure that it is not in order to enjoy ourselves." - Ludwig Wittgenstein (1889-1951)

*Thump*

Big blue eyes shot open in surprise as she heard a loud noise from her parent's bedroom. A little girl of five slowly got out of bed rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.

*Thump*

She jumped involuntarily as she again heard the same sound, which she was now certain, was coming from her parent's room. With all the curiosity of a five year old the blue haired little girl crept across the hall to her parents room. The thumping was both louder and faster now and her curiosity piped. Maybe her Momma was home and her and Daddy were doing the adult dance. She smiled at the thought and as curios as a newborn kitten she poked her head through the small crack in the door. Someone was moaning loudly, very loudly.

The five year olds eyes widened. Her father was doing the adult dance, but not with her Mommy. Her chest hurt and someone was screaming. She couldn't breath and it was then that she realized that it was she, it was her screaming.

Her father jumped away from the woman and hastily pulled a towel around his waist. The child was aware of the sensation of being picked up and wrapped her small arms tightly around her daddy's broad shoulders, sobbing into his neck as she did so.

Her father rubbed her back and whispered soothing words in her ear. He walked slowly to her room with her cradled against his chest. Her sobs lessened until they became nothing but sleepy whimpers. He laid his daughter down on her bed and frowned. If she remembered this then her opinion of him would change drastically. He stroked her hair as she finally fell back to sleep. He couldn't have her think of him in anything but a positive way; he couldn't take it if she didn't.

He sighed and stood feeling his lover's arms wrap around him from behind he allowed himself a smile. He felt her teeth take a gentle hold on his ear and he sighed in ecstasy.

"Come back to bed, we will just have to be quieter." Her warm breath tickled his skin and he returned to his room and again lost himself in passion.

******************************* (2 years later)

"Once upon a time there was a rich man who lived happily for a long time with his wife. Together they had a single daughter. Then the woman became ill, and when she was lying on her deathbed, she called her daughter to her side, and said, "Dear child, I must leave you now, but I will look down on you from heaven. Plant a little tree on my grave, and when you want something, just shake the tree, and you shall get what you want. I will help you in time of need. Just remain pious and good." Then she closed her eyes and died. The child cried, and planted a little tree on her mother's grave. She did not need to carry any water to it, because her tears provided all the water that it needed. The snow fell over the mother's grave like a white cloth; then after the sun had retired from it a second time, and the little tree had become green a second time, the man took another wife. The stepmother already had two daughters by her first husband. They were beautiful to look at, but in their hearts they were proud, arrogant, and evil. After the wedding was over, the three moved into the man's house, and times grew very bad for his poor child. "What is that useless creature doing in the best room?" asked the stepmother. "Away to the kitchen with her! And if she wants to eat, then -"

*Clunk*

"Ouch" A child of seven looked up from her book towards opposing the big, red ball that had dared interrupt her story. She was one of the few children who could read as clearly and with such understanding as a child that was 5 years her senior.

"Hey, I'm really sorry I was just trying to play kickball with some of my friends and I- well-" The blond child who looked to be about her age looked down at the floor shamefaced.

Blue hair bounced up and down as its owner laughed joyously. The blond looked up and smiled. She looked the girl over. She had large blue eyes that looked like they belonged to an old person with the amount of knowledge they held in them. Her unusually blue colored hair was cut at the shoulders and she had a large bruise on her right wrist with a variety of small cuts in the palms of both hands.

The golden child smiled sadly and looked down at her own bruise that was located on her arm. It seems that last night had not been good for either her or her new friend.

"Its' alright. At least you said sorry unlike the other kids."

The blond looked up as her new friends voice brought her out of her remembrance of her beating last night. Realizing what the blue-headed child had just said she scowled. She didn't much like that anyone was picking one the genius in front of her. Yes genius. The golden child called anyone who knew how to read a genius since she herself did not know how to read. Her curiosity piqued she sat next to the blue-haired genius and looked over at a group of boys who were notorious for picking on other kids.

"Don't let them get to you their jerks." She said defiantly her small chin slightly rose.

The blue-haired child smiled her new friend may look scrawny, but she definitely had a strong backbone.

The golden elf looked over at the book that her friend was reading and desperately tried to read the title. She scrunched her eyebrows in concentration, but could not seem to fit the strange symbols together.

"I can teach you."

Again shattered out of her thoughts the little elf looked at the genius.

"I can teach you how to read." The blue child repeated this time with a softer tone.

"It's not that I'm dumb or anything. It's just that I've never gone to school. We can't afford it. The government doesn't pay for all of us to go to school and there's no more room in the public schools." The elf's voice trailed off as she looked at her hands and all her defiance was gone replaced by a small child who was shunned and the last to get anything.

With a shake of her head the blue child again read from her book only this time louder.

"And if she wants to eat, then she must earn it. She can be our maid." Her stepsisters took her dresses away from her and made her wear an old gray skirt. "That is good enough for you!" they said, making fun of her and leading her into the kitchen. Then the poor child had to do the most difficult work. She had to get up before sunrise, carry water, make the fire, cook, and wash. To add to her misery, her stepsisters ridiculed her and then scattered peas and lentils into the ashes, and she had to spend the whole day sorting them out again. At night when she was tired, there was no bed for her to sleep in, but she had to lie down next to the hearth in the ashes. Because she was always dirty with ashes and dust, they gave her the name Cinderella."

The children lost themselves in the story with the genius reading and showing the elf different words and letters, and the elf paid rapt attention hanging on her every word.

"The time came when the king announced a ball. It was to last, in all splendor, for three days, and there his son, the prince, would choose a wife for himself. The two proud sisters were invited. "Cin-"

"SERENA"

The elf's head jerked up and she hastily got to her feet dusting off her jeans with her hands she made cursory apologies to her friend and turned to go when she unexpectedly turned around so fast the genius was afraid she had gotten whiplash.

"What's your name?" The girl who the genius guessed was the Serena being searched for.

"My name is Ami, Serena." seeing a hasty nod of conformation from the blond Ami stood. "Meet me here tomorrow, I'll be here until 6."

"SERENA!!"

Serena nodded and then ran off in the direction of the voices.

Ami smiled happily, she had finally found a friend who seemed to be in as horrible a situation as herself. Yes, now she wouldn't have to face the brunt of her mother's drunken accusations and unintentional bad aim. Her mother had once again gotten herself drunk and thrown another tantrum throwing a beer bottle at Ami causing her to bruise her wrist where the bottle hit and also to cut her hands while picking up the broken glass.

She sighed sadly and looked down at her wristwatch. It was 5:30 in the afternoon so she should head home before her mother caught her father with yet another woman. She sighed sadly and headed out of the park towards the place she called home and, disappointment filled her, back into the most feared place of all: the dark.

Men fear death, as children fear to go in the dark; and as that natural fear in children is increased with tales, so is the other.

-Francis Bacon