• Fall, moon 13, 2145.


    White. I had always hated the color. It was so boring. So bland. I could deal with other colors. They had life at least. Pink was always flushed, black was dark and mysterious, and green was life in general or envious. Either one if you'd prefer. But white, yuck! You could say the color drove me . . . insane?
    Insanity. It isn't what truly led me to where I am now. No, insanity led me to my artistic heaven. My Gorge of Gore. My secrets. My . . . . my glory days. But insanity had it's side affects. For instance, I was completely alone growing up.
    When I went to school, all of the children were afraid of me. I was different. My unnaturally black hair cut like a boys, my eyes an eerie shade of jade. My style was completely off and mixed. And the book, oh yes the book I always carried with me. Yes, I was different then them.
    But I didn't mind. I did have friends. Not human of course. But the creations that came from my mind. The demons, the shadows, the fairies, the trolls, the ogres, the monsters, the fiends! They were my friends. All of them were. All them still will be.
    Oh dear. Oh dear me. I had almost forgotten my dearest journal. How do I explain to them? How do I explain to them that I am leaving? How do I even comprehend the fact I'm being taken away for one of the rarest talents in the world?! . . . No matter. I am leaving. And that is that. They will find out on their owns. I do wish to warn them, but I'm afraid I shall only be hurting myself. Oh well. Here I go. I doubt I shall ever write in you again Journal.


    Farewell.

    Annabelle stared at the page. She smiled softly, running a pale hand through her still boyish hair. "I haven't changed since then," she whispered softly to herself as she tucked the rotting notebook back into the old plastic bag and lifting the tile to put it back in it's original place.
    Suddenly a knock came at the dirty white door. "Come in," Annabelle said dully, lifting herself to the bed again. A nurse in a white came in with a clipboard, a smiling expression plastered on her face. "Good morning nurse Lucy," Annabelle said, the emotionless expression still on her face.
    "Good morning. It seems you have some mail," she said. Annabelle's eyes brightened up as she snatched the letter from the nurse's hands. The nurse smiled and left the room. Annabelle rolled her eyes.
    "Stupid androids. They're more annoying then pencil marks on the side of your hand," she murmured to herself as she inspected the letter. She hadn't seen a written letter since she was seven years old when she had went to the Holocaust Museum with her parents. She carefully opened the letter, making sure not to tear any of it. As if it was surgery, she took the tip of the rectangle and folded paper and removed it from it's envelope.
    "Silly me!" she smacked her forehead. "I forgot to read who it was from." But as she looked at the envelope again, there was no name. Just addressed to 'Annabelle Inari.' 'Peculiar,' she thought and turned back to the letter. The paper was crisp, freshly written. She slowly unfolded it to see what tales lie within it's ink or pen.

    Dear Annabelle,
    This may sound a bit strange to you but we need your help. This world just isn't the same and we need you to help us. You are the only one who can. There shall be an escort to come get you around noon tomorrow. Be prepared.

    Signed,
    K & Z

    "Huh. Interesting names for rescuers I suppose," Annabelle said softly as she reread the letter at least three more times. "Help them with what?" she questioned. She stared at the wall a moment. White. Ugh! How she despised the color white! She clasped her hands on the side of her head. "Damn asylum," she muttered.
    She looked up the wall though, a small window letting in the slightest bit of light. She climbed on top of the bedside table to peer out into the world. It was white. No different than what she had wrote about in her journal two years ago. She sighed and jumped down from the creaking old wood.
    "Art has faded from the brightest world. This is bad. This may just cause an uprising . . . and possibly a downfall," she said to herself. Her words echoed in the small room. She smiled at the thought. "The downfall of Hentor City." Through out the night, marvelously deviant plans formed in her restless head.