5th of july.

When we paint a dark picture in our mind, either for a inspiration or some fun we think about a gloomy atmosphere, a abandoned house in the back alongside a dead tree and chilling winds. A basic one dare I say this picture is. This dark picture can represent many things. Take for example this one, a gloomy atmosphere as it looks it is about to rain, a tree with few dead leaves and a proud Victorian mansion in the back beside the lake.

A 6 year old child stood beside the tree overlooking the lake. With dark hooded eyes, soft cheekbones and baby supple soft skin there would not be any denying that this child was extremely cute if not for the dark shadow looming over her. It practically screamed darkness and isolation. Her eyes stared unblinkingly at the lake while she stood there with a doll which was surprisingly perfectly intact and in a pristine condition. After all she did take extremely good care of her friend.

Yeah except this was a real picture that our protagonist was resent in.

It was hard to believe what had happened to her. She did accept that fact.

'This is not me. dying and then waking up in a unknown place....seemed just like a cliched dream.' She wanted to scoff at the absurd events happening around her, deny that this thing was happening to her but seemed that she had no way to do it.

Because at the end of it this was true. It had been a week now and safe to say she had tried to calm her heart and just observe hoping this was a glitch in the matrix and the next moment everything would go back to normal. She was dead, had committed suicide. Dying does not means she should be here in some random child's body. A child that looked so different to her past self.

There was no familiarity, she had absolutely nothing on this child. No name, no age, no information about the parents. just absolutely nothing.

The clock struck 1. Time for lunch.

"Thank goodness" she muttered to herself while patting her skirt and turning her back to walk back towards the house. 'I got tired on the second day and started to snoop around the room for any type of information that I could find. Fortunately there were some books, lettersets, diaries and seals. I should open them now. enough time has passed already.'

The surroundings were bare and her black embroider dress fluttered in the chilly wind, her body was warm but her heart felt cold. While many would point out the fact that she could just try dying a second time but she did want to. It took ultimately a lot of courage to perform that stunt, that courage came from resentment and sadness alongside acceptance. She did not have that courage now and was too scared to do it.

She had promised herself that unless she was sure that she was stuck here she would not open those things as they could be private but now it seemed she had no other option. Already she had been roaming around here and there outside the house like a fool. It was time to know more just in case people happen to come and she gets stuck when they question her.

That brings me to a question if the child's parents and her's were the same. She had not seen a soul in sight for the time she had step out of her room. That had been 4 days ago. There were servants not that she could see them, but she knew there were. Every morning after she came out of her bathroom her bed would be made again and the dining hall where she sat alone would have food prepared.

She entered the house and for the first time instead of going to her room directly she changed her direction and started walking towards the central side of the manor. Her room was located on the left side and did not have much other than some sitting rooms, her own bedroom and other rooms that she had not seen yet. She is lazy.

The walls were painted with a dark green and a merchandise blue color. The wood stone was fantastic. Her vintage heart did feel nice in her bedroom. The central part of the house consisted of a parlor room, guest room and oh there were no technology here. It...she did not now how the lights and everything here worked but she had not seen a single piece of technology in sight that she was sure of.

Walking around made her legs feel tired after all she was but a child so she simply walked back to her room after some tie.

There she took out the books, lettersets and the diaries alongside seals and keeping them all in her bed in a vertical line. 5 minutes into it and she was in a denial. She wanted to scream, cry and throw up, well she did just that.

Taking the pillow she stuffed her face into it and proceeded to scream and roll around for the next 3 minute and then she stood back up again. Her dark shoulder length hair was all messy and tangled and she screamed out loud with tears streaming down her face,

''FUCK YOU J.K.ROWLING, FUCK YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"