Demeter slid out the back door, leading out from the bushes into the front. She let her mind settle on her sketch pad and her colloring untensils as she went to the front gate. She settled silently on the ground, and she let her hands flicker her wrists by themselves. She knew to let these drawings go on by themself, to let her hands seem "unnattatched" from her "body". The sketch grew dark as the charcoal crayons set in in the same shapes, creating a multitde of colors. she looked down at the drawing and gaspe din horror. It, at first, looked like babmi's eyes, but it was an innocent little girl's face, with a spiderweb covering it. The long, curkled wisps of hair angled over her little, brood shoulders. She felt stricken with horror.
She didn't know what the future would be for this little infant, but it must havre been bad. She didn't know the time, the place, and who the little girl really was. She would find out.....and it wouldn't be good. She dropped her things, staring at the sketchpad in horror, unable to look away or to stop thinking. It seemed....impossible. "Oh...Oh no..."





