I am going down the halls of the mysterious museum. It's dark and there are beautiful pictures, amazingly vivid. I look at the huge painting at the end of the hall, I am gazing at the woman. Her curly brown hair cascading down her back like Repunzel. She is looking down and smiling at her three gorgeous daughters. All of them miniatures of herself. The next picture on the wall is of her wedding day, stunning, once again. On down the hall I go. More pictures, some colorful,others black and white. They are playing backwards she is younger and younger in every picture. The last picture I see, I gasp. It's the picture of myself taken only months earlier. How can this be? I run down the next hallway, there's my baby pictures. This museum is me.