She danced. Her white dress twirling among the leaves as she looked up. There was a scream building inside of her but she danced it away. Among the leaves with no coat or sweater, she must have looked a little crazy and a lot of cold. Truth was, she didn't feel the cold.

She felt nothing. Her eyes were dead even though her body moved with a grace that only the living could provide. The ones full of fire and not ice. But it was ice in her veins. A coldness that was washing over her with every step. She swayed while a darkness filled her heart.

She wondered if this was what it felt like to fake it. To make all the right movements but to feel nothing that should be felt with it. There should have been a fire, there should have been life... But where was it? Where were the emotions and the feelings?

Resting. Everything she felt was resting. It was building up on it's own. Perhaps in the very soul that was avoiding a dose of cold water.

All these thoughts are what made her. What would continue to make her was her mind. Where it went, she would never know until it arrived.