Time is slipping past our fingers like so much sand; powdering the floor below. I am beginning to wonder about the very essence of life, how futile, how pointless. I lie here in the snow wondering what will happen to me, wondering what my parents will say when I am gone. A snowflake burns my cheek with its fierce cold. Cold. It is too cold. I wish to be warm, I wish to be in the glorious sunshine that dapples the garden in summer, where Vera and I would sit eating strawberries and cream, talking about wedding plans and the like. I wonder what Henry is doing right now. God forbid that he will take to drink as he grows, lest he harm those he loves, as my Royce had done. Oh why? What had I done to wrong him so, that he would do this to me? Such waste, that I should die, such terrible, terrible waste. I am too beautiful, too precious to loose. In my mind I cry out, trying to strike a deal with an unknown, divine force.

Let me live, oh please, let me live.

It has been many hours now. I cannot understand why I am still here, lying in this freezing bed of snow. My vision is blurry, and I can only just make out the dim flame in the streetlamp, flickering like a lone beacon on a hilltop. I fix my eyes on it, trying to extract warmth from its depths. In my mind, it helps, and I slowly find myself lulling into unconsciousness. I don't mind now. I will see my dear brother who died last year from consumption. We will fly like angels, up and up and up…

There he is now! My dear brother, angelic with his blonde hair, my sight blurring him somewhat. I hear him saying something, muttering to himself, but I am unable to make it out. He kneels by me, and I feel him lifting me up. He is taking me to heaven! We walk along the street in the dark, and I watch flecks of snow dapple his light hair and neck. It blends with his skin, for the colour is so similar. I feel my heart grow restless. Where are we going? Why are we not in heaven yet?

We are going into a house now. I feel a twitch of recognition in the back of my mind, but my blurred vision tells me nothing. I feel warm now, so very very warm. My brother lays me down by a fire, the dancing flames channeling heat into my body. I let out a happy sigh and shut my eyes. I cast my mind back to the day Vera and I sat in the garden, and pretend I am there again. The heat from the fire becomes the sun, and the soft carpet I lie on becomes the velvet green grass.

I walk along the garden path. It is quiet, save for a lone bird singing in the tree. I turn towards it, and smile. It is a very beautiful song; smooth and lilting. I continue down the path until I reach the bottom of the garden. There is an ornate wooden swing here, that I used to play on when I was a young child. I sit on it again, lifting my skirts up a little so I can sway to and fro. I look over to the pond that is to my left, a little fountain sprinkling water, causing the goldfish to scatter about. I let out a laugh of surprise at this, and go over to the pond. I sit there, inhaling the scent of the blossoms hanging above me. I swirl a finger about in the water, admiring the way the ripples create a pretty pattern.

"Carlisle...you'll have to do it now...she's lost too much blood"

I can hear a voice. It seems to be coming from the air about me. I shake my head, trying to dispel the silly notion.

Then a sharp pain stabs across the side of my neck. My reflection in the water suddenly darkens with blood; flames leap across the surface. I am screaming. The fire! What is happening to me? I scream again, and the world dissolves into flames; destructive and terrible. My body is consumed from the fire. Why why why, God? Why did you send me to Hell instead of Heaven?