The heavy morning fog surrounded Beijing as Amaya tossed and turned. She couldn't sleep. It had been another night spent dreaming restlessly of the night that she had almost died in the fire. The same fire that had destroyed her family home and stole her mother from her. Frustrated, she forced her eyelids open to find the morning light bursting in through her window. She breathed a sigh of relief, happy that she had successfully made it to another morning. Pulling herself out of bed, she dragged her heavy legs into the bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. Her deep black hair hung loose, flowing down her back. She was convinced she looked tired and decided that a shower would be the best thing to wake her up. Truth be told, she was sick to death of having the same nightmare over and over again. The events still puzzled her and she was never quite sure what had actually happened that night. She knew that she had been saved from the fire by an American business man, but only because she had been told so many times. Someone her father knew well and frequently met with. He had been staying with them at the time and had rescued her as soon as he knew she was in danger. She couldn't remember what he looked like though or what he was called. Despite trying constantly, her mind was blank. She let the luke warm water run over her hair and along her pale, soft skin as she gently closed her eyes, trying to recall something about the man that had saved her life ten years earlier. Suddenly and with a shock, she remembered the date. It was the nineteenth of April 1955, which meant that it was her twentieth birthday. It also meant that her father would be throwing her a huge party, one which she didn't agree to, but as per usual he had ignored her. Amaya let out a huge irritated sigh before deciding that it was time to turn of the shower and face the day.