The silence was agonizing. I sat and i pondered the boy from before, with his silky hair and sapphire eyes. His scowl, that fury burning in his eyes. It was as if he really did resent me.

As i sat, time seemed to stretch long, minutes feeling like endless hours. I had to know him, find the reason he suffered so. Take away his pain.

After all, that was my job, was it not?

The bell rang and i stood to leave the classroom. People continued their ever lasting stares, as if i was a century old artifact at a museum. A boy stalked my way, head held high. I shot him a cold look, so that when our eyes met, the confidence seemed to crumble within a second; the boy scurried out of the classroom the way he had come.

Cold air punctured my skin as if a thousand needles, the trees swaying gently. I was just glad to be out of the stuffy classroom. As my bag hung over my shoulder, weightless, i began my long walk home.

Once i was sure i wasn't being followed by school kids, i turned right sharply and knocked on a big wooden gateway.

"Come in," Said a gentle voice, and i trotted inside, hopping on one foot for the other boot wouldn't come off. Cursing, i grasped the bottom and pulled, almost knocking myself to the floor. A musical laugh sounded from the living room, and i matched my breathing to the gentle, calming sound.

"Puella, there you are!" My Aunt sprang on her prey, squeezing tightly as if meant to kill. I choked out a reply:

"H-hey Aunt Silka..." Pouting, she released the pressure on my fracturing bones and held my shoulders, her silky white hair, falling in curls on her shoulder.

"Lighten up, Lyra!" She sang, stroking my tangled blond hair. How a 60 year-old women managed such strength and energy was beyond me. "Why are you always frowning?" I remained silent, fidgeting with my fingers. Aunt Silka gave a narrow-eyed look, then turned and left to knit on her favorite sofa.

"So," She began, her eyes on her yarn as she untangled it. "Your parents couldn't get themselves to fly over here to Moonbay, could they? What is their excuse this time?" I sighed, sitting beside Aunt on the blue sofa.

"Too much work," I muttered, untangling my hair with my slender fingers. Aunt Silka's frown deepened.

"Well, at least could've come up with a better excuse." I laughed, a radiant, echoing laugh which rang throughout the house. She grinned at me with her red lips, then went back to knitting. Her fingers moved silently on the sticks, so fast i almost couldn't follow.

"I'll go unpack." Aunt Silka nodded absentmindedly, absorbed in her knitting. The stairs creaked under me as i pulled my suitcase, as if groaning in pain. I stood before the white wooden door, hesitant. I had so many memories here, so much fun and games.

Here, colors seemed to flood my vision.

Here, things looked normal again.

The door creaked open under my touch, revealing a dust scattered child's room. Pink colored walls sprang out at me from every direction, making me grimace. It took me only an hour to unpack my cloths and toiletries, and with sigh, i sat on my blue bed.

Something twinkled on the nightstand, and i turned to stare at a girl, smiling with her parents. She had golden eyes and long, fair hair.

A stranger, I thought.