Her eyes didn’t burn and she almost felt like jumping out of bed – almost, that is, until the memories came flooding back. There was a dull ache where her brother used to be, and a shooting pain running up her back and down her arm. But, the sun was coming in through the curtains that covered the windows; and she could hear the birds singing outside. Stretching her good arm above her head she sat up and rolled her shoulders, trying to relax the bruised muscles. Reaching around she tried to pull her tangled hair in a simple pony tail, she had been tempted to chop it all off until she could use both arms again. But, she supposed she was vain and wanted to keep it long. Walking over to the French doors she moved the drapes aside. Gasping at the view, she began fumbling with the locks. When she finally threw open the doors; she took in a large breath of fresh air, and could smell a hint of lingering rain and the grassy meadows. “Oh, Matthew it’s beautiful.”
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