A dark cave. A coffin. A dreamless sleep. That is all she knows. It's been a thousand years. Only the stars have lived so long. But even they implode, destroying from within, an explosion that hurts no-one but yourself. It's necessary, that implosion, to create a supernova.

Which is better: the star or the supernova? Being good or being great? Finding peace or finding power? She wonders. Always wondering. Where are her answers?

Not a soul will answer her questions. They stay in her mind, bouncing like a pin-ball, always moving, always constant. She thought being bored was the worst thing. Oh, how wrong she was. It's the silence. It's the inability to escape your own thoughts.

Is she dead? This must be her hell. There is no way out. Just this terrible loneliness that sinks into her very bones, like the chill of a January morning.

But then-

Something smoky permeates the air. It's hazy, like the crackling of a static tv, or like the popping bubbles of a newly opened Sprite.

It doesn't appear from nowhere. It starts out slow and creeping, meandering and wisping through the air. The sensation numbs. At first hot and painful, like burning alive, no escape. Frayed nerve endings twitching like electricity. A flood of fire in your veins. Then cold, seeping and freezing and lulling. Dreamy and sleepy, no more pain. Finally, nothingness. A black hole. An ending. A death.

The wisp pauses, circling the coffin and wrapping its tendrils all around it. A boa constrictor, squeezing.

Is it death? Or perhaps, a miracle.

From within, a heartbeat flutters. Hummingbird wings in the darkness. Yes, a miracle, indeed.

The wood of the coffin, so old and so rotted, falls away into dust under the pressure of this powerful wisp. It collapses in on the girl, sprinkling around her and sticking in her hair and on her lips.

The wisp follows the heartbeat. Weak and fluttering, a weak bird struggling to live. The wisp, the electricity, the fire, hovering above her chest and then shooting through her skin. Ripping like paper. Pain. So much pain.

And then it's healed. Skin knitting together in an instant. Not even a scar. Open, then closed, in the blink of an eye. And the wisp (it's electricity, fire, fate, life and death, the very stars, the supernova,it's magic, how did she not guess?) grabs onto her heart with strong hands, pumping blood through her veins, breathing air into her lungs.

One thousand years have floated by like a dream. But then, a gasp, eyes opening, magic swirling like heady smoke, and a small girl rising up in her coffin, dead no longer.

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Hello! I am not dead. I have not fallen off the face of the earth. I have not found myself asleep in a coma.

I just really didn't like how I started this story. I had an idea, a plotline, and even an ending already in place, but as I was writing, my words were veering off course. I figured I would just post it and see what happens.

And may I just say, thank you! I saw every favorite, follow, and review. Each and every one means the absolute world to me.

I don't want any of you guys to be reading garbage so I'm starting anew. I tried to write this for six months! Each beginning started differently. Then I sat down and wrote this in one afternoon, edited for a bit. I will seriously never post this if I don't just do it.

So here, hope you enjoy! :)

I'll try my best to upload as soon as possible. Once again, thank you for taking the time to read this. It means a

lot to me! Let me know what you think!