Under the full moon, a little girl limped down an empty road, her right leg bleeding with each slow, dragging step. Her once white bishop-sleeved, grotty pajama dress hung in tatters, stained with coal and blood. Dark bruises marred her delicate face, and her long, wavy dark hair was tangled and unkempt. Her heterochromia eyes: grey (left) and hazel (right) displays emptiness. She appears to be like someone who just escaped and survived such a horrible emplacement.

The night deepened around her. The road stretched endlessly, silent and unbroken. Each time she passed beneath a street lamp, the light flickered and died, leaving only darkness in her wake. A cold wind whispered through the air, and soon, white snowflakes began their slow descent from the starless sky.

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The moon loomed above, its glow threatened by creeping clouds. The wind turned sharper, biting at her bruised skin, but the girl kept moving. The lamps continued to extinguish, one by one, until she was left with nothing but the road ahead and the cold breath of winter at her back.

After what seems like an endless empty road with street lamps that has now all flickered off, the little girl caught sight of the dusky woodland. The wind howled through the withered trees, their skeletal branches swaying as if it had been anticipating her arrival. Devoid of glancing back, she stepped into the waiting darkness, vanishing into the depths of the woods—deeper and deeper she goes as the last sliver of moonlight gets swallowed by the night. The little white flakes continued to fall, covering the world in silence.

 The winter night has taken its reign…

And it’s here to stay…