Music was leaking through the halls of a secluded mansion by a forest from a decored music box that had an antique finish. It was left open near an open window. Its' melodic tune was somewhat familiar to the ear but for some reason had hidden its’ name away tucked into its’ rhythmic waves of ‘decrescendo’s and dramatic ‘ritardando’s. Although the music itself wasn't loud, nothing else was emitting a single sound so it was quite easy to engulf the whole house because that day all the staff (the cleaners, the cook, and other regular visitees) went home for the day for their monthly long break. This day was a special day where even staff usually who live in go home to their relatives’ as per the request of the lady of the house. It was the monthly occuring day ‘she’ liked to spend alone to write.

The sun was hidden behind a couple thick clouds so anyone who lost track of time could easily mistake it to be the afternoon when it's really morning. A young lady that’s only a few years from joining society as an adult was asleep on her desk inches from the music box. Her long brown locks were scattered across the table like a web. She had nodded away to the melodic tune and the lovely breeze that had came in. She had stayed up late writting down ideas for a new book she was going to write. Even in this dim light, you could see the dark circles that had formed underneath her eyes from overwork.

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Around her, there are a plethora of books scattered in no particular order. The floor and the tables of the room were stacked with research papers and sticky notes. The smell of lack of sleep and ink permanently stained the walls. Everything in the house except for the gentle movements of up and down of her chest was completely still.