ylva sat on a tree limb and began to think, 'could I be as my mother was?' strong and beautiful her hair grows long and brown. Her mother lost from the cancer of breast, the sun rises in the west. the colors blend so well that ylva thinks its a dream as soon as she sees her mother as her reflection. she does not know that she is a slitting image of her mother and her father cast her aside as if she was a broken doll toy. young and heavy with child she searches for a place to have her child. the sky was filled with the clear blue. at the sky's request the clouds shaped into stormy grey, as she just sat under a bridge. the bridge was old, worn and seemed to have nothing on it underside. it was the whitest she had ever seen, and she knew that the other side was a beautiful brown bronze color. somethings never seem to change as she listened to all the cars go by. "young lady," a woman was saying something to her, " young lady, what are you doing under there." she had long grey hair and her eyes were the color of a green snake skin, beautiful but scary. yet the unforgiving storm pushed its way towards their spot. the woman took the young lady to a parenting home, for single parents without a house to live in. she said, "Have your child here, and if its ment to be you will find me once again." As the young lady went into labor she couldn't think of anything but saving her child. when the baby was born, it was a beautiful little girl, and she called her Lillian. she grew up and her mother died, same way her grandma did, and Lillian knew that one day she would die too.