The tragedy of Narcissa Black
Beautiful, that's what the world was. Woes were far from the blue misty skies. Shining beauty was all to be seen for miles around. The fresh smell of white roses planted under the willow trees in the gardens of the Black Manor. Narcissa lay there, on the cushioned banks of her silken bed, patterned with petals of roses… her favorite flower. The sweet breezes of summertime blew gently through the open side of her glittering glass bedroom.
She was reading a book, her favorite book, Cinderella. She loved that story… she would read it over and over again in the glittering sunlight, and by the light of her little lamp at night, which was the shape of a silver lilly.