The room was dimmed; the curtains had been drawn shut. Daylight attempted to enter the room through the sides of the window but failed. In a corner was a wardrobe, evidently old, its wooden frame had begun to deteriorate. Opposite was a writing desk blanketed in letters and ripped envelopes. A piece of plain parchment sat on top of the skewed letter collection. In the very centre of the room was a four- poster bed, its drapes tied back, exposing a sleeping girl.
She lay peacefully, obviously lost in her slumber. Her sun kissed hair swept across her face, covering rosy cheeks. She turned and muttered something incomprehensible.
'Peyton! Wake up, we'll be late!' a voice shouted from downstairs. Seconds later the bedroom door opened. Standing in the doorway was a tall woman with a kind face. Her hair was identical to that of the sleeping girl's, the only difference was that hers was tied neatly back into a bun. Her emerald eyes were transfixed on the girl that lay asleep on the bed.
The woman walked to the curtains and opened them, welcoming light into the room. She sighed as she turned to face her daughter. 'Peyton, love.' She said in a kind voice. Peyton gave no response. Sighing again, the woman shook Peyton gently in attempt to wake her.
Peyton opened her eyelids, revealing the same emerald eyes as her mother. Absent- mindedly she stared at the woman's face that was above her.
'Is it time?' asked Peyton tiredly.
'It's time.' Replied her mother, giving her a reassuring smile.