Petite feet move softly through the tall grass, dancing in the soothing howl of banshee winds, toward a large oak on the hillside with jagged limbs reaching toward the full lunar glow. Her name is Aiden Crenshaw, an adorable ten year old girl with shoulder length brown hair, a full doll-face, complete with almond shaped green eyes, a wide smile, and button nose. Across her small form is a blue strapped night gown falling down to her ankles, it dances as she moves non-chalantly toward the tree. Swaying on the skeletal, thick tree is a withering swing, composed of a thick piece of wood and tathered ropes, which she approaches and climbs into with a cheerful smile. Through the momentum of her small form, she starts to swing back and forth to the sparkling night set before her; the moon hides behind a few clouds, set off by the glitter of distant stars- the perfect star-crossed lover's night, if there happen to be some around, but this wasn't about love, rather something else.
During her swinging, she could hear the soft whisper of someone singing a lullaby so sweetly like a mother trying to put her child to sleep. This caught the child's curiosity, slipping down from the swing and gazing toward a gothic fenced in graveyard with twenty or so graves, intertwined with various styles and sizes. She could see a soft, white shape moving throughout the tombstones, it seem to resemble a beautiful woman with shoulder length red hair and an angelic face. She shyly walks over to the pointed fence surrounding it, coiling fingers around the rough iron ending in a point and watching with her head cocked to the side. The white woman moves behind a large cross, catching glimpse of the small girl, winking at her. Aiden slips through the arched opening reading " Cemetary" in iron letters, following the intersecting dirt paths between tombstones to the cross this woman disappeared behind. But as she peeks around the cross, she finds no one, She was sure that this woman was there, driving her curiosity stronger. She looks all around the cross but still couldn't find this woman, this strangely enchanting woman in white. She comes around the side and sees a strange doll made out of a potato sack fabric, stitched around the edges and latched with buttons, which form eyes and a half-hearted smile. She kneels down and picks it up, bringing the strange doll to her face. She examines it for a bit, and as if something she lost, proceeds to firmly hug it close to her heart. A small frown dips on her soft face, which is graced by a soft wind playing against the frown. The frown fades as a warm feeling comes over her, the same feeling she had when her mother were still alive. She died about five years ago from natural causes, leaving this little girl to seek out an orphanage.