“You’re moving to your dad’s house in Virginia.”

“What? I don’t want to. You can’t make me.”

“Yes, I can. I’m going to be away for school for a few months and you’re too young to stay by yourself.”

“I’m fifteen. That’s old enough. Besides, I’m mature or something.”

“You’re going.”

“I am not.”

There she is, ma petit Anne, slumbering so peacefully in her soft, cool bed. On the floor, lies her treasured stuffed panda, Toma, forgotten. Shall we tread into her most secret musings, her darkest desires?

Young Anne, do you dream of your sweet Simon, your precious knight? That boy is the drug that puts you into your living blissful dream.

But, beware, my sweet, heed this silent warning. Perhaps, someday soon your happiness will end. You will not reach out your hand, when you find yourself lost and alone, and feel the warmth of your dear Simon’s hand embracing your own. You’ll be alone, alone, alone. That frightens you, does it not?

The single utterance of that dreaded word ‘alone’ sends chills up your spine. The mere thought of a life without your beloved. But you, pitiful girl, pretend to be strong. When, in truth, you quiver in your little flat dancer shoes. Beware…

Beware, my darling, for the winds of change blow the Fates into your home.

Knock, knock…

Aha! There they are…shall I welcome them in? Wake up mon cherie! Wake up…

Are you sleeping? Are you sleeping? Sister Anne? Sister Anne? The Fates are at your window! The Fates are at your window! Tap, tap, tap! Tap, tap, tap!

There she is, that girl spins beneath the falling rain, allowing the cool drops of melted cloud to caress her skin. Do you see her? Spinning so freely beneath the dreary grey clouds, she's blocking out any instance of sadness that surrounds her.

Spin, spin, spin!

Ring-around-the-roses…

Live, live, live!

Pocket full of posies!

Dance, dance, dance!

Ashes to ashes…we all fall…down…

And who is that…? That boy, her drug of choice, watches her with a slight smile playing on his lips as he half-listens to the chattering boy at his side.

Then, she stops. And, she remains out in the falling rain allowing the brief moment of peace to engulf her to her core.

She’s not awake yet.

Little girl! Wake up! Do you feel it at all?

No, of course she doesn’t. Her head isn’t in reality; instead, it’s focused on her daydreams of the life she could have with her shining knight.

Silly Anne, she laughs it off! You insolent little girl! Can anyone hear me?!? Listen, Anne, to the wind that blows past your still body in the dark of night. And still, you ignore me. Fine! Go laugh and smile for you beau, that damn Simon.

Yet, I see the look in your eyes. Your eyes, intent and focused on his gently freckled face, also betray that emotion you desperately try to hide: your innermost fear. That private feeling, you won’t reveal. The fear you keep locked in your core. Silly ma petit, do not fret, you don’t want him to leave you. You don’t wish to feel the pain, like you did last time.

I don’t care though. Save your silly little fears for later. You’re so simple, you stupid girl. Be independent, the one thing you always promote…and yet, you don’t seem to encompass that. Mon sucré Annabelle, she’s so naïve and so dependent. Mon cher…please don’t cry.

To you, dear Anne, he is the sun in your life. He’s always brightening your day with that sweet smile which you love to coax out of him. I remember the days when you felt your heart being torn apart because you so badly wanted to tell him how you felt but once again you let your foolish fears get in the way.

And now…tick, tock, tick, tock…there goes the clock. Time is always leaving us all. Hear one second, gone the next. How little you thought of that passing time. But now, so precious those dwindling hours, minutes, seconds are. How much time do you have left? Silly girl, do not worry, I don’t mean your life. Wait, maybe I do. Do you consider Simon your life? Or is that consuming feeling still far off? But, you truly love seeing him everyday.

Too bad. You ignored me. You never listened. You just ignorantly continued on in your “happy” little life. You brushed away Simon’s words with a, “Don’t worry, I won’t leave…” Those dreaded words are now permanently etched in your mind, are they not? You should have listened and now sadly, you must face the pain of leaving your beloved. I’m sure you see my unmasked joy.

I’ve never liked you. You, this girl, such a hypocrite; filled with dark fears and empty thoughts. Your silly insecurities destroy me. I hear you now, “I’m just not pretty enough.” You with your trust issues; how much I hate you! It’s a good thing you have me here, ma fille. Anne…you, who would trust your silly girl misgivings above me! I’ve always been here! Your foolishness annoys me.

You still don’t listen.

I do not care anymore. Go, lay your head upon his shoulder, and bask in your last days of peace.

Sometimes, you have to wake up, don’t you?

Finally, standing beneath the dark night sky, staring upon the heavenly cosmos in all its glory; you wake up. Behind you the voices of your closest friends faintly blow like wind past your ears. You don’t listen to them though. Because, now you realize, it’s actually going to happen. You truly are leaving here, your home, a place you actually considered home.

“It’s really…true…” Little Anne inhales deeply, relishing in the scent of it all. This place, your old life, everything. Always remember though: everything happens for a reason. Every change you encounter, simply remember that it leads to your final resting place. Do not fear, dear, frightened Anne. Everything always works itself out in the end. You shall still have your precious Simon, I’m very sure of it. You’ll survive this change in your life and grow-up along the way. And, you’ll learn to trust me again…hopefully.

Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are…

At last, that tender feeling of his lips on yours, sending chills up your spine. You then hug him tightly, not wanting to let go. But, you must. Time goes on, life continues. Ma petit Annabelle, just smile and, mayhaps, you’ll survive.

Hold me, let this moment last forever. It doesn’t matter what will happen tomorrow. I have you here now. I’m not scared anymore.

“How could you tell me that?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d care that much.”

“You didn’t think I’d care that liked a different girl when we dated before?”

“Sorry, but I realized it was you I really cared for afterwards.”

“Nice sentiment. I’ll keep that in mind when I start to care.”

“God, why are you so heartless?”

Bitter words, mon cher. You shouldn’t be so mean to your love. Perhaps you’re right though, maybe you are incapable of a lasting relationship. Maybe it is your fate to end up alone, a spinster with twenty cats.

Your eyes, Anne, reveal a desperate sadness. The pain felt, that was leftover from a relationship ended by broken trust. Deep endless brown pools encompassing your need to trust him again, so you don’t feel guilty in the end.

But, have you ever heard the phrase: “He did it one, what will stop him the next time?” I know you hear me; you’re suspicious now.

And yet, you want to believe, do you not? Believe in his gentle words that tickle you to your core, slowly making your heart beat faster. You wish to simply believe in that dream, to be happy with him for as long as those sordid Fates allow.

Poor, little, doomed Anne.

“Doomed to what?” you ask me, your voice pleading. Simple, my child, it is painful love. You throw yourself deeply into the object of your affection, and then he breaks your heart. You might just be destined for it. “I don’t want to,” your eyes echo, words lost.

Everyday, there’s more anguish. The distance, it almost consumes you. The tension, it increases daily between you and Simon. The most seemingly innocent words set it off, the spark of the first flame. Anger and sadness pump through your veins, clouding up your common sense.

Listen to me Anne; don’t get in too deep to these trivial arguments. You’re wasting away precious time. You are both sorry, but it doesn’t stop. Pride, that’s the problem. Maybe you’re trying to prove yourself to the other. Who can really know?

I beg you Anne…just simply…

“Sorry, I should not have overreacted like that. You are with me now and that is all that should matter.”

“Thanks, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have called you heartless. You’ve loved me no matter what.”

“Well, I suppose in some ways I am heartless. I am still bitter about before and it tends to show.”

“I’m like so in love with you.”

“So am I.”

At last, a smile appears.

I just want us to be happy together. Please don’t cry. I love you and even though we’re separated now, I still think of you everyday.

Oh me, Oh my. Are you jealous, my dear, jealous of a girl that doesn’t even exist? Jealous of the girl he dreams of and you’ll never be? Tsk, tsk…how much I mourn…

You must be reasonable though; you started it, did you not? By asking him that question you knew would cause pain. Mon sucre, do not cry just let it go.

In any case, it is your fault, all of it.

Then again, you know this. You knew from the very beginning how you would never measure up.

What everyone else ignores, I see. I see the way that a mere thought of your ‘Sir’ Simon, can brighten up your most sour mood. I see your dreams and fears. Those hopes you keep locked away.

That hope…that he’s the one, even if you know it’s too much to ask. You pray he’s the one who’ll whisk you away when you need it the most.

And so, when you think you’re alone, where no one can find you…you cry. You cry out all your desperate thoughts, bad feelings and insecurities. But, I am always here Anne, always beside you.

Still, I know…I don’t affect you as he does. I can never cheer you up. I am just here to offer advice for you in your life. I can’t offer the warmth and protection that he can. But, I am always here.

And yes, the pain is still there, but everyday…it slowly melts away from your eyes. Every day, there’s a subtle change. All you must do is believe, my child.

Forget about his reply. He must have seen something in you to make him fall in love with you. That something could be the very thing you hate about yourself. Don’t question his feeling so much, or I am sure you’ll regret it. Merely ignore that pain and love him the best you possibly can.

Even if my wounds from days long gone remain. I believe that I can live if I set my heart free. I know I can’t be reborn, but I can change. All I really want is for us to stay together, forever.

I see the tearstains upon your pillow, mon cher. Once more those horrid Fates blew in and changed your course of love. But, remember what you tell everyone else: "Everything happens for a reason." In order for your words to ring true you must believe them yourself and find the meaning behind the end of your song.

'The end?' you ask, your voice choked with tears and grief. You are still full of disbelief that your beloved knight broke your heart.

'Love is like a song,' you begin, closing your eyes to shut yourself off from the world. 'There are highs and lows; joy and sadness; it comes fast and ends slow; it can be long and melodious and then short and staccato. All in all it's beautiful, but it must come to an end.' A sigh escapes your lips, as your throw yourself back against your bed. 'My own song started slow and sudden and soon had an abrupt dramatic rest. But even in that rest there was still the nearly silent trill of a single flute. And then the melody began again strong and fast, the lilting sound both sweet and pure. It swelled again to such a passionate extent, leaving me breathless and dreaming. Once again it happened, the melody and steady rhythm began to slow, losing its ardor. I did not know then that the song would soon fade into nothing, leaving me tearful and pained.'

You are overlooking something, my dear. All songs must end at some point. But perhaps yours is merely unfinished for the time being.

‘I don’t want it to end!’ you cry. ‘I need him with me everyday to smile at me and love me with those eyes.’

You are pathetic! He is just a boy. He’ll be one out of many. You’ll forget him in a few days…

‘That’s what you said last time.’

I have to say that, to give you hope. He’s not easy to forget. That Simon, your dearest love.