Cold, So cold. The blood laid on the snow, dyeing it a deep red. A boy lay there, eyes closed. His familiar lips turning blue in the cold. We need warmth the girl thought still staring. We need to stay together.

Standing up, the girl looked at herself in the mirror. Her long, golden hair flowing down around her body. Her bright green eyes glistening in the sunlight. A knock ruptured the silence. The girl quietly went to the door. A woman in a pale yellow, Victorian-style dress, stood there. Eyes narrow, she enters the room.

"I honestly hope you don't plan on continuing this façade." The girl didn't answer. She walked over to the window.

"Well, young lady," the woman continued, "You will not have anything to do with this family if this continues." The girl looked at her, her eyes glazed over. The woman cleared her throat and preceded forward.

"The only thing I want is to fly." The girl said simply. The view from the window was astonishing. All the bustling on the streets below, men and women alike walking in a hurried rush. The sky a magnificent blue with a few wisps of clouds, Big Ben in the distance. The girl sighed, admiring the view. Feeling nostalgic, she said;

"I'll miss this city, but I wont miss the torment I've been put through here. Lashing, after lashing." The woman glared, but said nothing. She looked out the window with bored eyes.

"When will you be leaving?" the woman asked emotionlessly.

"When the clock strikes ten." As if on queue, the grandfather clock downstairs started to chime. The girl counted, one, two, three… finally, the tenth chime sang and the girl walked toward the door.

"I wish you the best of luck, Princess Skyelar." And with that, the girl was gone.