Miracolina Diaz a girl who's lived under the hollowed house out in the country for years. Tangled with the chains, and the roots of the house, Mira longs for the life outside. The only thing keeping her sane is her music box.
But a wanderer might change all of that.
Suddenly, Mira is out in the world again, trying to reclaim the life that was taken from her. Questions arise in her-why was she stuck under that house for so long? Who put her in there? Where is her family?


5. Sad Day

         My hands gripped the small music box mournfully. I grabbed the small silver crank, and spun it, pleading silently for it to work.

       The small box, the size of a notebook, chimed at the beginning of the song, but that was all it would give out until it simply died. I placed it on the ground and stared at the ceiling. An idea to pull it apart, and see it's innards pushed me forward.

     I hesitated; if I couldn't put it back together, I would've broken the last thing Mama ever gave me. But it was no good to me like this, so I picked at it with my fingernails. It was hard to pull apart, and I lost several nails, but the magic healed me anew, so I didn't really mind.

   The music box did open, but only because I was able to find a small button on the side. I stared at the inside amazed and saw neatly folded pieces of papers.

    I opened one:


     Dear Mira,

    I hope you never get this music box or discover the writings that are hidden in it, but if you have, you need to know that I love you.

   I know you're wondering why you're in here, but I can't really give you specifics in that. I do know this: there are four of you young children that have a 'Dynamism', a power that is not known for this world. There are four of you living here, and that would have caught the attention of ~~~~~~~~~~, a goddess known for extracting towns that have too many powers. None of the mothers wanted their child to be in your position, to restore the Equity, the balance.

   I hope you're not thinking that the decision to give you up was easy. It was possibly the hardest thing I had to do, even more than giving birth to you. I wrote as many letters as I could so you would not feel so lonely.


    I love you, Mira.


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