The dreamworld carries her through the night on wings of gold. Above the clouds of cotton, they seem so fragile yet never let her fall.
She awoke, clutching a piece of paper desperately. She hoped the words would bleed from the paper into reality. If only that were possible. Her eyes focused as the paper slipped from her hands and fluttered to the floor. She lay back down in her bed, slowly pulling the sheets over herself, and began to cry.
Then, a noise from the floor. She quickly pushed the blankets off, got up, and saw the paper was gone. In its place lay a single white feather.
She turned and ran to the window. What she saw, she would always remember: a white dove perched on a tree branch, staring back at her. It stayed there a while, then looked up at the sky as if knowing freedom awaited. When the girl began to speak, the dove turned to listen.
"Close your eyes," she said, "and imagine a world where everything is right, where nothing can touch you or hurt you. Where everything is simply beautiful."
The dove flew away. Instead of sadness, she wiped her tears away and smiled up at the sky.