The rain pours down, wrapping the world in a blanket of dark grey storm clouds. A girl sits at her window, wishing she could play in the rain. Though it looks cold, harsh and unassuming, anything is better than staying her room, surrounded by bittersweet memories of love lost. Instinctively, she gazes into the trees, allowing her mind to guide her, once she can no longer see. There's a winding road, with brambles, and a ravine flowing close by it. Further and deeper into the forest she goes, as the path comes to end. Now, a choice has to be made. Continue on, and not know what lies in store, or turn back, and never come again.
She chose to continue. She always chose to go on. Because at the end of the path, there was a meadow. And there was a huge, old oak tree. It was filled with mystery and suspense, and as the girl sat under the tree and drifted off, she would dream of castles, princes and happily ever afters.
But she always woke up.
She always had to go.
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