I had never felt so lost in my entire being as I did that very night. Large hard drops of rain poured outside the multi-million dollar home I looked upon. On the inside it was just as extravagant. It seemed as though everything we of Diamond, Crystal, or some other precious gem. Even their staircase was made of a hard, cold marble. Crosses randomly hung about, the seemingly largest one hanging above the fireplace.

Walking up the stairs I found the bedrooms. They seemed all too familiar yet so distant and unknown to me. There were 5 bedrooms in all, 7 doors (two were restrooms). Looking, each had a cross upon its door except for one. It was no doubt the family was quite religious, dedicated to their Christian faith. I found it interesting the lonesome plain white door had no sign of their Lord and Savior. I walked to the door and touched the cold steel knob. A Rush of anxiety hit me as I opened the door. Nothing. The room was obviously that of a young girl's. It was a light pink color with pictures and candles scattered across the entire room. Her closet was filled with closed you would most likely find in one of those teen magazines or on the latest pop star. I did however find a most beautiful dress, intricately designed, in the back of her closet. It was a beautiful white color.

Leaving the room I opened the next door, which happened to be a bathroom, and fell to the floor. Lying in front of me was a floor of scarlet. A deep brown barrier streaked the floor along side it. Attached to it all was a girl of no more than 17. The scarlet was her own blood, which had been removed from her wrists. The dark brown color was her hair, which seemed so smooth and delicate it could break. The girl's sharp blue eyes remained open as if in some kind of shock. Next to her right hand was the murder, a large kitchen knife. I reached out to her but only got as far as the warm blood before I scurried in the opposing direction. Before leaving I saw a tattoo of the pagan pentacle around her stomach.

I ran down the stairs only to see the fireplace was burning. AS I got closer I saw the same pentacle in pendant form burning inside of the hot flames. Its chain was now black in color. Fearing of my surroundings, since nobody was home to start the fire, I ran out back into the iced rain and stared once more into the house.

I jumped from my bed and held my necklace tight. The beautiful silver pentacle lay peacefully around my neck. I got up, saying my morning ritual to the god and goddess as I got ready for school. I hid the pentacle under my soft pink shirt, which blended perfectly with the walls of my room. I then blew out the candles I had previously lit and walked into the soft rain towards school. AS I got there I pulled the necklace out and walked to class with several of my friends.

Nine tiring hours later I turned my journey back home. By this time it was as if the rain were tears, tears of some summerland creature looking back upon its deterioration on this world. I pulled my coat tighter as I pulled my brown hair from underneath it. I ran to the door and went inside, hiding from the cold. I felt no warmer inside than I did outside though.

Arriving in my room I was my private Book of Shadows lay open upon my bed. I know I didn't leave it out but looked upon the pages. It was open and found nothing suspicious. IT was turned to what I had written the night before, a protection spell and the wish to invoke psychic ability that I had written the night before. I shut the book and returned it to its place underneath my bed. Feeling the need to wash my face I made my way to the restroom.

I turned to the cross-covered room and began to rise my face. I took out my dark contacts, revealing my blue eyes as I continued to wash. Hearing my mother walk in it I pain no recognition, except to say hello. She murmured something back to me but I didn't hear her. I thought she was extending her arms for a hug until I felt sharp pains down my wrist. THE vein had been cut and was bleeding scarlet colored red. Just as soon as I had noticed the pain in that wrist, my other hand felt the same excruciating pain. I fell to the floor my hair no doubt among the bloody mess. The last things I remember were my mother's words and actions. She quietly laid the sharp, large kitchen knife into my right hand but I had no strength to hold it. SHE then lay her hands upon the pentacle across my stomach. "And the Lord be with us all for my own daughter was only that of Satan." Moments later she screamed, yelled, "My baby has killed herself."

As if my spirit were to have wandered the earth briefly before departing I saw her walk down with my necklace, which she must have ripped from my neck. With a blazing fire in the fireplace she threw it in, hoping to diminish the "evil" within it. I guess I finally got my wish to invoke psychic ability. The next morning the papers read " Young girl commits herself to death."