Author's Note: I like to get right to the point about things so most of my chapters will probably be under 1000 words.

CHAPTER 1

Several years after Cocoon's 'demise'.

Shortly after the Prologue.

Her hand gently brushed the top of the crude looking stone. She felt the rough and porous surface, her fingers moving up and down slightly in the hills and valleys. Eventually, the top of the stone ended and her hand fell off of the side and bumped against the side of her leg. She continued to walk, and again, her hand brushed another top of a crude stone. As before, her fingers traced the top. A wind blew by, damp and cool; making her light pink hair become unsettled. A shiver went up her back, but she continued walking and tracing the object to her right with her fingers. A few more steps and her hand ran out of stone. She approached a third stone, and again, she traced the top. A blank expression on her face the entire time.

She fought hard to fight back the emotions. The sadness, the anguish, the depression, the darkness and the tears. Her walls, strong as they were, found it hard to continually hold back these feelings. They battered against her every second of every day. They tore her apart and stripped the life from her. Her young face looked hollow and dead. Her eyes seemed to be empty and had no spark. The way she moved was in sluggish movements. Her grace was taken from her. Words cannot describe the toll that this battle took on her.

One day the emotions would completely destroy her walls and she feared what would happen. Though, a part of her, would welcome such an event. Maybe it would bring her some solace. Maybe the heart ache that tormented her so much would be gone. Maybe she could ride on the flood of black emotions. A part of her said no to this and continued to fight and fight she did.

The young woman now stood in front of the three stones. They were misshaped and crudely placed in the ground. Most likely, they were found without much effort or energy. Some scratch marks were carved into the front of the stones. The writing was difficult to read from too far of a distance. There were three slight dips in the ground before the stones, indicating the earth in those places were moved at one point. That was the only clue, for the grass was present there.

She stood and looked at these stones, at the earth and at the markings. She knew what they said even though she could not see the words clearly. She should know – because she carved them. She remembered carving the words like it was yesterday.

It was dark by then and wet. It was only fitting for it to rain ... Taking her retractable knife out from her pouch, she knelt down in the mud, and slowly began to carve the letters into the wet stone. The tears streamed from her eyes but her face was already completely soaked from the pouring rain. She didn't know how long it took her to carve the letters or the words into the hard stone... But that sound, the scratching sound of the knife against the rock. It was loud and overcame the pitter patter of the rain. It filled her mind and consumed her thoughts. She was numb – so numb from that sound. Maybe it helped her do what she had to do. Regardless, she hears it when she lies down at night for sleep.

"SNOW VILLIERS

22 YRS OLD"

"SERAH FARRON

19 YRS OLD

My sister"

She could not bare to even look at the third stone. Simply, she turn and walked away.