Prologe

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     The quiet young girl with jet black hair stands out among the crowd of elders who all bare the same shade of white hair. She searches the aged faces, each telling a unique story different from any other in the room. But the one she looks for in particular tells a tale both horrifying and hauntingly true. Across the large room sits an older lady staring out the little window, watching carefully as each piece of the soft white magic falls from the sky, finding its place on the already covered pavement. The small girl sits in the fading brown chair looking in awe at the fragile women, never once does her attention leave the outdoors.
    "I never liked snow." She follows her sight out the glass frame, noting each piece. "The way it melts into its surroundings, infecting all of those who dare to near it. I believe you and I both are aware of this spontaneous visit. Most children your age call me crazy, but they don't know what happened out there. Those of us who do prefer to keep it from the outside world." She turns away from her precious enemy to look at the youngling who calmly sits in front of her. "If you truly do wish to understand what happened out there you must take note that I do not intend to hold back the details no matter your age." The girl nods her head gently, eager to learn what others deemed untrue.

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