It all began when someone left the upstairs window open.

Mrs. Boyd was awoken by the faint beating of birds wings coming from her young daughters bedroom.

As she stumbled up the staircase the beating intensified and her daughters words circled in her head.

“Mummy, last night the birds on my wallpaper were flying again.â€?

Mrs. Boyd burst into the bedroom, one quivering hand clinging to the front of her shirt.

“Aleka!â€? she shrieked through tears for her daughter.

The little girl was gone, and so were the white doves that had once adorned the blue wallpaper.

All that was left of Aleka Boyd was a single white feather floating in the centre of the room.