It was not the loss of an object or a person that caused her to act this way. It wasn't something that you could, or would even want to, replace. It was so unique that no two of its kind will ever be the same. It was such a precious yet powerful thing; it could change the world in a heartbeat. It was more magical than any myth or fairytale. It was the pure work of the angels sent from heaven to protect us. It was more mesmerizing than anything anyone could ever imagine, so breathtaking that even time itself would pause to admire its splendor. It was so beautiful that no skinny waist line or ridiculous amount of makeup could ever come close in comparison to its glory. It was more graceful than any dove or swan could ever dream of being, more special than any twinkle of a star or any flake of snow. It was the dream, conjured up by the innocent mind of a young girl. A small child whose mind was not scarred by the truth of the world. And she remembered this girl so well, and all the wishes that this young girl had ever made. She hated the pain of the reality of growing up. She had hated hearing the lies of Saint Nick and Prince Charming. She hated discovering that you couldn’t capture the sound of the roaring tides that made the ocean in a shell, to keep and listen too when you were feeling lonely. She didn't do anything dramatic, yet she did something so unusual to her normal self that she wondered where the idea had come from; she visited the secret place that that young girl had found once apon a time. and she laid down and admired the clouds like she did all those years ago, and she started to cry quietly to herself as she remembered every detail that that little girl had ever hoped would one day come true.
