>>32257412Late at night she hates the most
But she had to be a host
Fearing that it be a ghost, cracks it open, softly spoken:
"What can I do you for?"
But seems like nobody was there.
She stepped outside, in crisp cold air.
Looked around and felt despair, and quickly ran back through the door.
Locking it up right behind her,
Something different, a dark reminder
Someone moved the dying fire down into her bedroom floor.
"The candle must have fallen off the wall," Buneary muttered. "The wind outside blew it into the room."
