“take it,” a british male voice in my head said. (where did that come from?)
i’m not going to take it! i thought back, it’s not mine!
“it’s in your closet,” the voice responded. “it might as well be yours.”
no, i retorted, i can’t just take it!
“well, at least try it on. what harm could it do?” the voice said.
oh… well… okay.

i took the dress out of the box and laid it out on the bed.
it’s so beautiful, i thought as i untied the back.
i started to change into it, and it fit perfectly. i looked at the amazing black and purple, intricately laced dress in my full-length mirror. this is so weird… hey, i could wear this to the dance instead of that stupid red dress! i thought, then i passed out.

the next thing i knew, it was daylight, a light autumn breeze was rustling my fuschia hair, dead leaves were cushioning my bruised face, and i felt a sword being prodded into my back.

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