Miranda had long ago completed the ritual every teenage girl must get through, the ritual of putting her innocent little girl toys up in the attic. She was done with them, a teenager not needing barbie’s and dolls but instead flooding her room music and clothes, diaries and friends constantly coming in and out. Miranda sighed, her friends were all out and she was her bogged down with at least two hours of AP History homework. Why had her mother forced her to take this class?

She tapped the pencil to her temple in frustration and after sitting for a good three minutes closed the heavy textbook and flung in onto the floor. Head hitting the desk Miranda let out a loud sigh. She was so bored, yet so overwhelmed. She had nothing to do, yet everything was on her shoulders.

Miranda didn’t know what to do, but an unconscious instinct led her out of her bedroom and up into the attic. As she ascended the dusty stairs the memories entered her mind. She spotted the box of her old toys and immediately spotted Sarabeth