The soft breeze stirred the curtains and pulled gently at her hair. She loved the spring time, the sun shone down on her warming her comfortably. "Everything seems so alive and happy." She thought. "The sun makes everything so pretty."

She reach out and picked a flower. Her admiring gaze drank in the details as if trying to make sure she'd never forget. Her gaze shifted from the flower to the hand holding it. "A lot like a flower." She mused, soft delicate and beautiful. Her gaze shifted again to the railing. All cold hard and dark.

"Something's aren't pretty or alive." She ran a finger down the mettle, it was cold hard and unfeeling but she guessed it was pretty in it's way." She looked over at her lunch, and picked up the knife and an apple.

"Even the apple is pretty." She thought before cutting it and eating a slice. She sat the apple down and looked at the knife. The knife could be called pretty it was nice and shiny. She wondered if the apple hurt when it was cut, she knew the knife didn't mind cutting the apple.

"So much in life goes unappreciated." She thought. "I know how that feels." She looked at the knife again. "Maybe I should try being like the knife, beautiful but cold, it wouldn't matter. Even if I weren't appreciated I wouldn't care. The knife slid easily into her arm. "That's a nice shade of red, not the same as the apple but pretty."

When they found Pumyra later she was like the knife she was holding, beautiful and cold, but she didn't seem to care.

THE END

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