The boy walked slowly throughout this section of the garden; he had never seen this part before. It was hauntingly beautiful, with the whispering willows, the lilies floating in the slow stream. He followed the little path for awhile, until he came to a little wooden swing. 

There was a girl there, one who looked very much different than him. He wore the clothes of his time period, Jeans, t-shirt, sneakers, the like, but she had several time periods fused together. A gypsy blouse was held together with an azturpealean, gold-laced corset, and she wore a layered skirt with the front cut open to reveal ripped skinny jeans underneath. Around her neck lay a clockwork angel, and her ears there were several black rings, all the same size. A blue velvet top hat clicked and whirred on top of her dirty blonde updo, locks of hair falling free to frame her face. 

She sat there, legs crossed, looking off into the distance. As the boy neared, he gaped. Her arms and face, all visible skin, was marked with what seemed to be moving, inky black tattoo lines. But what was most shocking were her eyes; they shined a mesmerizing blue, and were so deep that you could fall into them. 

And yet still the boy approached, not afraid, curious.She did not move, from her position. The wind continued to whisper through the trees as the boy sat next to the girl. As he looked closer at the lines, his earlier view was correct; they were moving, twisting up and down her body.

"Why don't you run like the rest? Are you not afraid?"

Her voice, soft yet unwavering, seemed to echo through the silence. It was quiet, and he could feel a tinge of pain laced through it. 

"Because. You look lonely," he shrugs. 

At this the girl throws her head back and laughs, a crystalline ringing sound that really does echo through the garden. "And what makes you think I want company?" She turns to look at the boy. "What if I've chosen solitude?"

"I don't think so," counters the boy, looking defiantly back at her, "nobody would choose solitude." He smiles, thinking that it makes perfect sense.

The girl stands. "Well I have." She begins to walk away towards the trees, her laced up converse boots making no noise on the path. 

The boy follows, not letting her go so easily. She looks at him.

"What?" Her voice is now edged with weariness, as if she's tired. 

"I'm going to change your mind." He says this fiercely, and the girl is--just a bit--taken aback. Then she smiles sadly, and before the boy can react, she runs off into the trees. He tries to follow, but the world starts fading, and he wakes up in his bed.