1. Waking a wonder,
Waking up after a hundred years doesnt half make you feel stiff. When I open my eyes the blue of the sky is blinding, apperaring almost white against my sleepy pupils. The clouds contrasted magnificantly against that autumn breeze, the wind silently blowing them into little cotton wool shapes. I lie there for what seems like longer than what I already had been, a hundred years. When I finally try to get up, I find that I am enroled in a cotter of vines. Rusty at the leaves and tangling into the muddy surface of the fallen tree bark, which I lie on. My pearly white nightgown ripped and torn, almost rotted compleatly with age. Its a good job it had so many layers.
I confuse my dreams with reality and shakily tear through the greenery, trying to remember myself. I imagine a man with a waterfall of grey hair protruding from his chin, a group of small matured women, each holding what looks like a wooden twig. I hope that the serenity of my final memory lives on as it was as clear and as peaceful as the chirping of the birds in a nearby tree, feeling as true as the sky above me. A handsomly mysterious male character, rich velvety locks, a smile so warm, that it could melt a steal heart. Eyes as blue as the ocean, staring right into mine. Their reflection revealing that even though I could see him that my eyes were closed, my whole body deadly still, resting atop the exact trunk that lays solid by my bare feet. I wonder why he is smiling, then I envision the crystalline tear drifting like a rain drop down his rosy cheek.