For WIXOSS Flash 177 - setting: The White Room
There is no white room anymore. There never was.
It was the mind of the dying girl. It was the playpen of the girl who had made up her own name. From fairy tales and books, paintings and windows she had looked at and made up! None of it was real until this world. Every thing was real here. Every thing that existed was hers to use, play with and control. But none of it could be done by herself.
So she had to go outside and get new toys.
None of them liked it here. They could get over it. She hadn't liked it here at first either. But that had changed. Now that she owned it, everything was going to be fine.
Everything was going to be fun. For her anyway. If she had to be all alone, why not make the best of it.