The door opened slowly with a menacing creak. An old wizen hand appeared in front of her with an old croak “What you want here little missy.?”
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The door opened slowly with a menacing creak. An old wizen hand appeared in front of her with an old croak “What you want here little missy.?”
A new beginning has begun as she rises from the ashes. A total complete lost of her memory she walks through the dark and wet night at the cemetery. Walking down the wet road where she notice a small cottage at the end of the road. She approaches the door and gives it three knocks. “Knock, Knock, Knock”
The blazing son scorched her back and the warm heat grasped every last dry breath out of her throat, as she struggles to open up her eyes. Lost and confused as to where she lays, a black hawk soars above her head, calling her to rise up to a new morning, a new place, a new memory.
