A cold night. A dark night. And on that night, on the precipice of despair a lone girl stood.
"It's frigid in here. Dark, too."
She was not describing her heart, although that descriptor could be used there, as well.
Melanie was walking down a long corridor, lit only by a few candles.
Her shadow was longer than her actual body. She thought that felt symbolic.
The destination was the end of the hall, where a cracked door was waiting, light spilling out of the narrow opening.
"I don't remember anything about myself! Only my name!"
Melanie. She thought it had quite the nice ring. Whoever she was, she must have been mighty confident before finding herself in the dark confines of some sort of archaic structure.
Each time she passed a pair of symmetrically aligned candles on the walls, their flames distinguished with nary a trace of what they once were.
"Could that be some sort of power I have?…"
It was either that, she thought, or something belonging to someone else entirely. That would be the worst-case scenario.
"I'm not one to care about appearances, but I look horribly ratchet at the moment; it would be terrible if anyone could see me."
Spoken with true naivety. In the place she was in, embarrassment of matters related to appearance was quite a cause for speculation about the status of one's mental health. There were far greater dangers to worry about.
Finally, she was at the end of the hall. All the candles had distinguished at this point. The only light remaining was that which was spilling out from the room in front of her.
Peeking her head in, it appeared to be a library. A library filled with books that all had black bindings.
Each binding had something in gray ink written on it. Walking further into the room, Melanie began inspecting the letters. They were in a language she didn't recognize, although the characters looked a lot like English. Strangely, it was as if a jumble of random letters were strung together. She had to wonder why any linguists would craft such a convolution, even if it appeared to be literary.
Holding one of the books, she opened it to the first page to see if she could get any information about where she is.
It was at that moment, that she realized. Or maybe it's more accurate to say she was realized.