Black rose. Dead. Dead like her insides. She lightly picks up the rotten roses from the garden her father once tamed. Before he became a black rose. Before the black rose was burried six feet under.

They are the first things to go. They may seem unimportant to the unknowing; but that's just it, she was knowing. The roses were picked so many years ago for her by her father. The morning he died. After staring at her bruised arms, she closes her swollen eyes.

"Sandra! Where are you?"

"Here, Daddy. Where were you?" Daddy takes Sandra's soft, young hand, and pushes back the girl's ivory-colored nightgown.

"Peter, come here please," calls Leviantha. Daddy's eyes sink at the thought of leaving his little angel.

"I'll be right back, sweetheart. You work on that birthday list for me!"

"But Daddy, don't be silly! I won't be nine for another five months!"

Daddy smiles lovingly, caringly. "I know, darling. I know."

"PETER!"

"Coming, dear!"

A tear falls from Sandra's now opening eyes. That last dreary day she saw her daddy. These roses she kept pressed in her album that consisted of on family picture she, Daddy, and Leviantha had taken when she was six.

A mirror.

Her eyes have gone from piercing blue to dark grey. Her dark brown hair falls limply at her shoulders. Her face is soaked in salt-contaminated tears.

Sandra has only one possesion left given to her by her father. Leviantha has taken the rest away, but she has hidden this one. It is a necklace that was her mother's until she died, and Daddy married Leviantha.

It is gold with a large diamond surrounded by emeralds at the bottom. She clutches it to her heart, and forces more tears back. Anger from the past years since Daddy died is folling up in her head, her arms, her legs.

Epitomy of evil.

She will, she must get out. Looking around the room, she sees a bed with a dark blue comforter, a wood dresser and desk, light blue walls. So much money, yet none for her.

Next, she must pack money. For this task, she will have to steal from Leviantha. All that is left are her personal hygiene products, which she carelessly tosses into the bag.