When she spoke, it listened and never asked her any questions. She would spend hours and hours on her favourite cushion, and would tell all her stories. When they were together, days smoothed into nights and then she would continue till sleep encased her.
A blue afternoon, butterflies prancing about her head. She had nothing in particular to do, the day seemed to drag on. Sleepy. Dreams whirling aimlessly.
A loud sound; rattled her out of her trance. 'It' was ringing. She answered, and froze. THAT familiar tune. It had haunted her since childhood, and now it was back. To wreck havoc and change her life forever.