Till this day I am a prisoner, a prisoner of my own beliefs.
There was nothing usual about that bright Saturday morning. An unrelenting distasteful omen wafted in the air, treading finely like an impalpable fragrance of misfortune known to every being, yet Jessica anticipated nothing out of the ordinary, when she enthusiastically stabbed the key into the hole and opened the door.
The first sign of something not quite being right, was subtle and not alarming. She switched off the vibrant bulb, and ignored the widely open closet doors and proceeded as she normally would. That was when she was struck by a vicious bolt of confusion. She thought she would be greeted by the sight of her sleeping daughter, but only creased sheets and dangling blankets welcomed her.
"Blaire?
