There she sat, as free and careless as any other child. Yet, it seemed, there was something tugging in her mind. The flowers were long dead since she last looked upon them, but the wrapping still looked new as the wind gently dusted it off. She jadedly looked into the sky, hoping for a second that she would see a wisp, a trace that there was something up there. But she cleared her throat, and looked down again at the crinkly paper and faded color of the flowers. "Are you ready to go home, Chihiro?" Her mother asked. "I know it'll be hard, going to a new school and making new friends." She opened her mouth, then closed it. How stupid, she thought to herself, they don't remember a thing. "I think I can handle it." she replied. The car drove bumpily towards the main road, leaving behind some of her naïve childhood with the unmoving, stone frogs.