Leaves fell, swirling around the decaying house that sat alone at the end of the path. A single cherry blossom passed through the open door, traveled down the dark hallway, and landed at the base of the last door at the end. Chrissy sat on her bedroom floor, the sunlight reflecting off the faded pink sheets. The coloring book lay open on the small drawing table in front of her, a crayon clutched in her frail hand. Even though the door was closed, muffled screams still rang out in the room. Once again she was lost in her color as her mother entered and quietly closed the door. Tracy was in her mid-twenties and once truly gorgeous, yet the wrinkles etched into her face betrayed the beauty she once had. “Come here, baby.” He called her. “Come, sit on my lap” Chrissy stood up and joined her mother, in what was becoming a daily ritual. He would sit in his mother's arms, always so cold, and listen to her silent tears. His mother didn't dare cry out loud, for fear of the man down the hall. Sammael sat at the table drooping and dead, lost in his fifth bottle of whiskey. Even when he wasn't drunk he was a dark presence that dominated the house. Day after day the pages of the coloring book turned, driven by an unknown desire to escape from home, she found herself trapped. At the tender age of five, Chrissy dreamed of flying with leaves flying past her window. , soaring in the open sky. Even now, as he watched them go from green to gold. His favorite season is fast approaching. As he walked away from the broken window, a rush of cold air took hold of his body, but only for a moment. Huddled in her blankets, she closed her eyes and flew out the window, joining her friends in... middle of paper... an unknown force blew the flowers from the branches. Sending them into a raging fever, which seemed to disrupt the house or what slept within. She knew she would come, she waited every year for this moment, and this time she wouldn't run away. Sammael's face stood out in the dark window, watching and waiting. "Not this time," came the whisper. Chrissy ran into the yard, past a tree she'd never remembered, branches shaking as she passed. “Mom, I'm home” she shouted happily. Running through the open door that seemed to only hang on a hinge. “Welcome home sweetie,” Tracy replied, smiling at her daughter as if nothing had ever happened. "Go play in your room until your father gets home." She sat down, opening her coloring book. The branches curled once again around the alcove where once lay the sleeping body of a child, lost forever to the world..