It's dark, and my nose is filled with the scent of damp Earth; looking above me, I see the night sky through metal grating. It wasn't cold, but I was shaking. To comfort me, I begin to rock back and forth and sing the opening song for Beauty And The Beast. "Th-there goes the baker w-with his t-tray like always. The same o-old bread and rolls t-to sell." I close my eyes tight and try to visualize the scene on the back of my eyelids. "How old are you? Are you seriously singing a Disney song?" A girl's voice cackles from above me, "It's like you stayed at age six or something. Your parents were right for sending you here." She adds, stepping into being at the edge of the grated hole, translucent bucket in hand. "P-please, I-I'm s-sorry. I wasn't trying to m-make anyone m-mad. T-tell me w-wh
