I

                                    

                                          


                          
The sun rises from its slumber behind the Snowy Mountains. The sky being illuminated by rays of gold, breaking through the clouds. The mist a golden color. Pine trees covered by specks of silver glittering as the gold blesses. 
                          
A cool breeze whispers, singing a lullaby. The trees dancing to the lullaby, the golden rays casting patterns upon the earth below. 
                          
A doe skitters through the snow, leaving its tracks. Head held up high, proud the beautiful creature stands still. Its profile illuminated, black eyes glittering.  Taking in its surroundings, then it flinches. Startled it darts off, into the golden mist. 
                          
The Forest is quite, not even the wind whispers. Out of Courtesy, to the fallen child. 
                          
The snow is tainted a somber red. The blood flowing freely, surrounding the little girl. Her eyes closed, lashes gently laying on her cheeks. The snow falling upon her dark brown hair, contrasting. Her lips are slowly losing their rosy color, turning a cool icy blue. Paling under natures coolness, slowly her chest is ceasing to rise.
                          
Then echoing, an earth shattering wail gives life to the forest. The black birds try to escape, the oncoming curse. 
                          
The curse thunders down the mountain, destroying. The girl is dragged down into the snow, not a trace of her existence is left. It seems as if, as if she has never walked upon the earth. Never breathed the cool mountain air, felt the rain on her cheeks and the happiness of the sun.  
                          
As if she, not yet three winters young has wandered away. Away from this world. Surrounded by nothing but white, she opens her eyes. Dilated from the pain she feels, confusion clouding her vision.  
                          
Her eyes focus, locating the agony of her suffering. Her eyes grow wide, deep carvings in her skin. The scarlet blood flowing, staining her white shelter. It is too much, the torturous pain flowing through her body. 
                          
Her mind cannot process, the pretty color. Is that what hurts? Why do such pretty thinks hurt? Pretty,pretty, her mind shuts down. Lulling her to sleep, to an everlasting? She cares not, behind her eyes all she sees is the color. The color of her own blood. 
                          
The color of Roses. The color of ladybugs in the summer, the color staining her lips as she devours the cherries.  The color that can mean love or pain. A color with so much meaning. 
                          
Her eyes slowly close, not seeing as a pair of hands grasp her tiny and frail body from the crimson stained snow.