An old, frail woman sits in rocking chair.
Rocking slowly, gently, back and forth.
The floorboards beneath her creek softly.
She is dressed in black.
Hair held back with two hair clasps.

A pouch dangles from her arm.
A drawstring wrapped around her wrinkled wrist.

There is a rustle heard nearby.
A small girl appears.
Dress in white dress, with small imprints of daisies on it.
Hair tied into a braid.
Timidly she inches over to the woman.

The woman unravels the drawstring from her wrist.
She opens the pouch, and five small stone fall into her lap.

Each stone is unique in its own way.
Different sizes, shapes and textures.

The little girl is face to face with the woman.
She hands her each stone carefully, and with great care. She holds the stone and with each stone she tells her wish for the little girl

The first stone with the inscription STRENGHT.
My wish is that you have the strength to endure the past, the present, the future. To fight all the evil and conquer it in the name of good.

Next comes CREATE
My wish is for you to create memories. Some of them good and some of them bad. To even life out. And that each bad memory you create only equals more memories that are good.

Then DREAM
My wish is that your dreams come true in your life, as well as the people around you.
Next MAGIC
My wish is that your days been filled with magic, both unreal and real. Both created by you, and created by other people around you.

Finally WISH
My wish is that these wishes as well as many others to come your way. Also, that each wish is better then the last one.

The little girl admires the stones.
The woman opens the pouch and picks each stone one at a time, and places them in the pouch.
The woman hands the pouch to the little girl and says “For safe keeping”

The little girl smiles and runs out the door.
Giggles are heard.
The woman continues to rock.

There she sat, alone and in the dark.

Holding her life tight in her hands as its essence drifted.
She held it tight so it wouldn’t fall apart.

The man stood beside her, looming over like a shark.
On his face there was not a mark.
His hands were rough, and overused.
His touch it caused her pain.

Her life was slipping in and out of her hand.

The man his face was cold, without any emotion.
He took her life in his hands and laughed.
His laugh was mean and cruel
He wanted her to feel the ultimate pain
At first he took little pieces then larger

Her life was falling apart before her eyes
She grew weak with every piece he took
She gave her life one last look before the last piece fell into the unknown
It crumbled, without a trace.
No more life, nothing left

He took the bad and the ugly. He took the good and the pretty
He spat in her face as she screamed and cried

She was begging him to give her back what was rightfully hers
The door shut behind her and again she was in the dark
Tears rolling down her face, in her eyes she was a disgrace

In his world there were no worries
He held his head high without and shame

How could you … she screamed with pain.
He would not answer.

He was long gone never to be seen again.
Only to be remember as a true man

She is still there alone in the dark.
She is still fighting, to find her life, with the small scraps that remained.

REFLECTION IN THE MIRROR

A girl sits and stares at the reflection.
A stranger glances back. A woman who resembles a memory.
Her hair was unkempt; the strands would fall over her face covering her eyes.
Her eyes look tired, and puffy.
Her cheeks were smudged and *****. Her skin is dry as a desert. The only relief to her was a stain left from her tear that seemed to give her cheeks a bit of rejuvenation.
She looks old, even though she is young.
She doesn’t*t smile, her smile is lost.
There are scars all over her face.
Some are straight. Some are crooked.
Each one of them cause by a different reason. Some are even inflicted by her. As if to release the pain that grows within. Some of them still bleed, some of them becoming infected.
She will never look as she wants to look.
She will never be the diamond in the rough. Never.
The strange woman reaches to the pane.  Hear hand is pressed up against the pane she looks in your eyes with wonder. She’s asking herself. Why does this girl not smile? Why does she cry?
Has she gone through the pain that I have?
She knows she will never know your answer; she will never be a whole person ever again.
She screams but no one hears, and she bangs her first against the pane, but no one sees her. She’s trapped in the misery behind the pane.
There she will stay until the mirror breaks and she is set free.