Radiant morning light filtered through, Marcia's stain glass windows, that was placed

right of her bed, and fell onto her dark brown curls and tan skin of her heart shaped

face. She slowly allowed her eye lids to flutter open and she winced as the bright light

shown in her eyes. Marcia did not like sleeping in, in fact she was appalled at the very

idea, but she let herself off just this once without scolding herself.


She threw her blankets off of her and swung her legs over the side of the purple

covered bed. As soon as her feet had touched the hardwood floor, she had already

made it halfway across the room and was heading for her closet. Marcia, being the

strange person she was, had a very strange taste in shoes. In fact, her taste in shoes

was so strange that even she had begun to question herself.


She reached into the closet and pulled out a pair of bright purple, snake skin

covered, high heeled boots, and a purple dress. Once she was dressed, she headed

out the door and walked, with a purposeful step, into her very large library. Looking

around she saw it was already clean and ready to use. Marcia smiled silently to herself,

this was just what she needed today, she thought.


"I wasn't expecting you until noon" she laughed seeing the brown haired boy come

out from behind a stack of books that had some how grown taller over night.


The boys eyes shined with silent laughter," Well, some one had to clean this place

up Marcia! It was mess!"


"You didn't have to clean my entire library! Sit down! Now!" Marcia replied,

brushing her curls out of her face. She moved over to the coffee pot on her desk that

her father had given her for her own personal use. As she turned it on she glanced over

the child whom was sitting in front of her desk in the well worn, but very comfortable arm

chair.


"Matthew, would you like some?" She said pointing to the coffee pot.


"No, thank you," Matthew said, "I actually came to tell you that I have to leave for a

while"


"Why!?" Marcia said in shock. A dark clothed figure stepped out of the shadows.

Marcia looked at the figure with confused, questioning eyes.


Everything seemed to go in slow motion after that. It, the figure, took a silver pistol

out from its back pocket and aimed at the two whom were at the purple desk. Everyone

heard the shot, everyone saw the results, but no one saw the strange clothed figure that

murdered Marcia and Matthew in those last few seconds.