It had all started with one broken smile. The type of smile that doesn't really reach the eyes. This quiet deception crept its way into Isabella's life like a thief in the night;she never saw it coming. The war within her mind continued to grow and grow as a new opponent would enter the fight. The worries from school would always battle the stresses from work, as the anxieties from dealing with the declining health of her mother popped up sporadically like a grenade within her mind. Her scathing unrequited love situation turned into weeks and the weeks to months, the stalemate within her own mind had only increased with intensity leaving her with nothing but battle wounds.

Isabella desperately tried to break free from the trap that was her own mind. The whole struggle within her mind caused her to developed an escapist tendency as to try and break away from the war if only for a short amount of time. The immediate relief of drugs only fed the problem. It didn't get rid of her problems but only stirred them up into one incohesive mass of chaos that only led to a bigger need to escape. The stinging release of harming herself only made the battle wounds she felt she had from the turmoil inside her mind manifest itself onto her skin. This method only made her come face to face with the issues she so desperately tried to forget. All she wanted was to become and illusionist; make herself see and feel things that aren't really there, at least then she could feel the warmth and tenderness of happiness even if she could not feel that in her reality. The only true escape Isabella could find was to walk by her self through a quiet park. The sense of solitude calmed her thoughts so that they were only a whisper within her head.


On one seemingly insignificant day, Isabella took a walk through the same desolate park she always did. She loved how the leaves danced with the wind as she slowly walked down a small path. The different reds, greens, browns, and oranges that circled around her resembled the beautiful paintings of Monet, as if he was purposefully bestowing his gift with the use of nature right before her eyes. The wind tickled her face leaving a slight icy chill that felt comforting against the warmth of her skin. As she looked up at the sky, Isabella took note of how the usually friendly sun, now hid behind a sea of gray clouds, almost as if it felt ostracized by the scene in front of it. While walking down this path, Isabella stepped onto a particularly crunchy leaf and froze. Looking up, she studied the tree in front of her which is most likely where this leaf came from. The deep brown tree stood strong and towered over her with pride, despite the fact that most of its friends have left never to return again. Looking back at the leaf she just stepped on, Isabella studied all of the broken pieces the weight of her body made on the leaf. Each crack reminding her of every fault in her own life. In an instant, the little box her troubling thoughts would be crammed into, violently broke upon and everything came pouring out. It wasn't until this point that Isabella finally realized that the beautiful waltz the leaves dance with the wind was really the dance of death. The beauty and gracefulness of the dance completely juxtaposing the turmoil within her own head, but completely foretelling the one casualty of the war.