Inside the booming mansion, a young girl looked out at the dreary scenery before her. It had rained and rained for days-so much, in fact, that there was a flood warning in effect for the surrounding area. She sighed, looked down at her right leg, then back to the lone window in her room. She hated staying inside.

"Chi?"

She didn't turn at her mother's knock.

"I'm coming in, ok?"

Chitose, thirty-four, with long, dark hair that fit her slender curves, stepped over the various boxes in her daughter's room. In her arms she held a rectangular package nearly as tall as herself. The gifts had started to get old a week ago, but her mother still kept on.

"I think you'll really like this one," she said, and Chi could tell she was using her most encouraging tone. "My company's been working on this product for years and you'll be the first kid to have one!"

Chi reluctantly swiveled her chair around. The box greeting her eyes was indeed impressive. However, the lettering along the top caused her face to sour.

Your child's new best friend! It talks! It plays! It loves you!

A doll. Her mother had chosen a doll. Chi was, after all, eight years old and far too mature for anything less complex than a computer.

"-left Sakura with your physical therapy instructions," her mother was saying, "but you should have a few hours before then to enjoy your new toy! Its name should be on the back. See you!"

Her eyes wandered after her mother stepping into her car and driving down the winding road connected to the house. This seemed to happen more and more often: her mother handing off a gift and having to hurry off to work soon after.

Maybe it will rain so hard it floods our house, Chi thought. Then Chitose would have to come back. Chi would probably drown, though, since she can't swim with a bad leg.

A greenstick fracture of the right tibia. She remembered the words typed on the discharge papers Chitose had signed. Very fortunate, the doctor had said, that Chi had sustained a minor fracture in the accident-especially considering-

Her eyes flew open. Why had she been dreaming about that? Of all things, it was one she tried thinking about the least.

"S-Sakura! Chi wants lunch! Now!"

Her maid emerged from the kitchen, carrying a plate of chicken salad sandwiches with cucumber. Chi eyed the sag in Sakura's apron pocket where the pill box lay. Sakura had been caring for the young girl a few months before she figured out Chi was having episodes of depression. What had once been a vibrant, energetic child had quickly spiraled into a demanding and often sullen youth.

"Will that be all, Ms. Chi?" Sakura had a certain quality of voice inflection when she spoke that often calmed people. However, the little girl was in a vehement mood.

"Chi wants one," she stated flatly, pointing to the contents of the apron pocket.

"We've talked about this before, Ms. Chi; these are your mother's, not yours. Have you been dreaming about it again?" She said quietly, placing a reassuring hand on the child's shoulder.

Chi shrunk under the contact. Her face scrunched into a whimper. For several moments it seemed she was going to take one step toward closure. Some other thought entered her mind at the same time and intercepted the moment. An image, a memory of the accident, fresh and real. Her face was blank again.

"Get out, get out, GET OUT!"

"I'll be back at three for your excercises, Ms. Chi," her maid sighed as she left the room.

Chi ate little of her lunch. Everything either looked or tasted like gravel. She tossed the plate with a resounding crash, taking some pleasure in watching the sandwiches tip with it. A different noise came from her right. The box was moving. Had the doll turned itself on? She watched the box as it first turned, then toppled onto its back. Furious scuffling came from within the contents-whatever lay inside wished to be free.

"Little help here? Somebody?" came a voice from within. Chi rolled her eyes. They really must be desperate for customers at her mother's company, making such a cliche doll. She moved her wheelchair closer and pulled the ribbon round the box loose. The lid was pushed off, and out stepped a boy dressed in what she considered the tackiest clothes she had ever seen: dark blue jeans, a faded white t-shirt, and flip-flops.

"Hullo! I'm Fay!" he said, smiling brightly. Chitose must have programmed him to be nicer than usual, she thought with disdain.

So after a brief break from ongoing stories, I've finally decided to share this idea with all of you! I nearly posted it a few years back, but it got deleted due to my own silliness of not having a backup copy. Hope you enjoy! Please review and let me know what you're thinking. ^.^

-NamiEmi

John 1:16