Silken strands dipped in lustrous chocolate laid in shining delicate ringlets upon porcelain skin. Pools of an iridescent amber hue stared vacantly outwards, as above mahogany wings arced gently over. Lips were full and the color of soft faded rose petals that were set eternally with a smile. Upon alabaster cheeks was a blush of color that added to her perfection.

Beams of golden warmth streamed through the glass paned window, embracing her small figure. Causing the crashed velvet of her dress to glow a vibrant azure. She sat ever vigilantly, ever waiting on the chair overlooking the yard. There was no time, no sense of passing that arose behind that delicately sculptured face.

She was an enigma of better times, when laughter filled the white planked house. Now there was only silence, a dark morose atmosphere of mourning too deep to cut and to fresh to be spoken about.

People came ever so often, but she stayed hidden away upstairs, an unseen wind rocking her chair. A ghost in a house that begged to live. Her playmate never came, she stayed gone, lost to the world they had created together. It seemed just like yesterday they had sat a table for a make pretend tea party or just a week ago, dress up. But that was yesterday and today was now, thought it didn't really make a difference to her.

She waited, as golden orbs faded as they perused the figures that made their way hurriedly down the street. Snow drifted downwards in a tantalizing pattern that no eye could ever follow, a deadly waltz that never ended. That pureness drifted upon the wind that brutally called the frigid cold along as a playmate to it's incessant whining.

The blush of life that glowed about her slowly faded away, and still she waited. Than it came, the steps upon stairs that lead to her domain, the door slowly opening and she she stepped in. The smile never left her delicate face as her playmate accidentally knocked her rocking chair.