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Physically Apart, Together In Heart
13-year-old Layla was sitting on her bed, relieved that the day was finally over. She was tired. Everyday, it was the same. She woke up at 6 AM, she washed up and put on her royal dress, she ate her breakfast prepared by the castle’s staff and she started her classes. The same as always. Princess etiquette, languages, history, ballroom dancing and so on and so on. And Layla was just sick of it.
Layla’s relief to all the stress had been a kind girl named Anne, who would sneak into one of the castle’s highest towers to dance. She showed Layla how to do it and as difficult as it would to mimic Anne’s dancing in a gown, Layla had managed to get the hang of it. She would find some time every day to sneak up to the tower and dance with Anne. For the little time she could get with her best and only friend, Layla was able to be a free spirit. Just dance, laugh, have fun and be happy.
Unfortunately, it couldn’t last. A few weeks down the road, Anne told Layla terri
She is Kaycee's pixie. She's a toddler pixie. Older than Piff, but younger than Lockette (who's the second-youngest). Naturally, since she's a toddler, she'll get into anything she can. She doesn't like not knowing where her bonded fairy's gone and will cry if she goes too long without seeing Kaycee.
Image used for base: i570.photobucket.com/albums/ss…
Inspector Wolf The old lady was dead. I could smell it before I even got into the house. The whole place reeked of adrenaline, sweat, fear, copper and steel. He’d dropped her right in her living room. Chopped and chopped until she stopped moving. But I could tell I was getting close. This had been done in a hurry, and the killer didn’t have the time to clean up after himself like he usually did.
Across the room, the phone rang. The shrill sound set my teeth to grinding, but I ignored it. Instead I followed the killer’s bloody footprints into the back bedroom. He’d climbed out the window. If I hurried, I could catch up to him and end this disgusting spree he was on.
Then the answering machine kicked in. “Hi, Gramma! It’s Red. Sorry I’m running late. I kind of lost track of time. But don’t worry. I packed the picnic and I’m heading out the door right now. Love you.”
She’d been expec
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