Dear Justagirl, I've been meaning to write this to you for quite some time.  I've always wished that I could make you see just who you really are.  But you never listen.  So maybe you'll hear me in this letter to who you claim to be. You're not just any girl.  Not at all.  Your silence brings beauty to the words of others.  Your words crack open the things left unsaid, and shine light on all the places few dare look.  You have a way about you that whispers of a majesty, and yet you always hold others up beyond yourself. Your eyes could scratch past the surface of the "he

Miranda awoke in twilight, surrounded by evergreen trees.  She lay still beneath a canopy of trees, her black hair framing her face.  The tattered clothes that covered her seemed out of place with her fair face.  Her breath came slowly, and her heart beat rapidly.  She tried to remember where she'd been last, but it was like wading into knee deep mud.  Her memory was ethereal as fog, blown about by what seemed a stormy tempest.  She struggled in vain to remember, but nothing came.  Eventually, trickles of pictures and images came slowly fading in and out of her mind.  At once, her mind was overpowered by a need for something.  She knew it was