A glorious sound, one she had never heard before, flooded the room. This noise was that of snowflakes and little sleigh bells mixed into one impacting combination. She felt the sadness of the music seep into her body slowly and spread throughout her veins. The magic of the melody drew her curiosity and she slowly advanced toward the door, afraid that this was a dream and one wrong step would waver the music. The woman pushed opened the door with a slight creak of its hinges and peeked in.
The room is nearly a full white, from the floors to the wall and ceiling. But wonderful oak pillars rest in each corner of the open space. Whether they protruded truly out of the ground or the ceiling, it is unknown. A magnificent ornate light fixture is suspended overhead, having branched supports for a number of lights. The golden chandelier slightly sways from one side to the next, giving the room total luminance.
Placed in the center of the room is a petite girl dressed in a beautiful white nightgown, who was seated at a stool. She is leaning over a big machine of some kind from which the sweet and sad sound emitted. The instrument was like an elegant beast, sent to life by the girl's slender fingers. Keys of ivory white and smaller keys of charcoal black decorated the enchanted object. Smooth brown wood curled delicately underneath the keys in which the girl's fingers were dancing over.
When the girl stops playing, there is silence. It hangs like a thick cloud of smoke, giving the area an atmosphere for suffocation. The woman hadn’t realized that she had wandered completely into the room. But she still kept one hand curled over the golden doorknob. Her hazel eyes follow the little girl’s movements, watching as she slides off the stool. With the delicate right foot moving to touch the marble floor first, the left follows in pursuit. Slowly, she rises to her full height and straightens out the flowing gown.
“H-how old. . . are you?” the woman questions, her voice faint and lost within the surrounding air. But she wasn’t even sure as to why. She takes in a sharp breath, the odd taste of peppermint getting caught in her throat. Yet, the aroma is of lavender.
Without turning around, the child replies in a gentle and innocent voice, “Eight.”
Clearly, the lady is stunned. Her optics widen as she breathes out in repetition, “Eight?”
On the balls of her feet, the girl whirls around. Each strawberry curls rests back into perfect place, swirling around the shoulders and reaching the waist. The gown gently swings about before settling against her elfin body. A face, much like an angel’s, breaks into a brilliant grin. Both rounded cheeks become rosy, the dust of slight red partially hiding freckles. Thin eyebrows curve over large and loving green orbs, which are separated by a short and adorable nose.
“You’re. . .” The woman loses her ability to speak at the sight. She could feel the tears swell in each duct. As time passed and the muteness continued, the light in the room seemed to gradually lessen. Her sweaty palm slips away from the knob and reaches outwards towards the girl.
“Olette~” She chimes, sounding much like a playful tune. With a charming giggle, she takes the woman’s hand. The second that contact is made, breathtaking, white, wings sprout from the child’s back and spread to each side of the room.
-When in doubt, make a fool of yourself. There is a microscopically thin line between being brilliantly creative and acting like the most gigantic idiot on earth. So, what the hell, leap!
- "Listen, I don't want to stifle your creativity,but that thing you built there,it looks a pile of shit”
- I'm late, I'm late, For a very important date. No time to say "Hello." "Goodbye." I'm late, I'm late, I'm late.
-"The Universe is 14 billion years old, seems silly to celebrate one year. Be like having a fqking parade every time I take a piss"
-“You're ten years old now, you have to take a shower every day...I don't give a shit if you hate it. People hate smelly fuckers. I will not have a smelly fucker for a son.”