• Violet woke up with the sun's rays shining on her face. She grumbled and fidgeted on the air futon. When she couldn't go back to sleep, she yawned and sat up. Violet's back killed her so she stretched and got up. Half asleep, she walked through hallways and down stairs until she got to the kitchen. Her father, Brain, was cooking breakfast.
    "About time you got up. We got to start unpacking or we will never start till we move again," he said with a laugh. Violet just nodded sleepily and began to eat.
    After she finished eating, Violet got dressed and started to unpack. I never thought I had this many things, she thought. After much digging, she finally found the box she had been looking for. Books. So many books. Violet sighed with contentment. She had always felt safest near books. They didn't make fun of her, or talk nonstop. They spoke her in soft voices and she listened. And when they were closed, they would continue to whisper to her with stories and words of love and achievement. Violet stood up and lifted the box up. She grunted under the weight and walked towards the door with unsure steps. Walking through hallways and corridors, she finally stopped and brought down the books before a door. The hallway she was in looked like it hadn't been used in years. A thin layer of dust covered everything and Violet sneezed constantly as she treaded through the snow like dust. The door was closed and next to it was an ancient looking sign. Violet brushed away the dust. She could barely read the spidery cursive words.
    The Ink Room
    Violet was intrigued. Slowly, like opening the curtains of a theater, she opened the door. She peered into the dark room and found...

    Nothing.

    It was but a dark room, a closet. Violet sighed and turn to pick up her box again as something caught her eye. Metal, worn down with use. A handle. A door. A secret passage in a simple closet. Violet smiled to herself. She took the handle and pulled.