《When Two Paths Meet》 Her daily life Music was leaking through the halls of a secluded mansion by a forest from a decored music box that had an antique finish. It was left open near an open window. Its'' melodic tune was somewhat familiar to the ear but for some reason had hidden its¡¯ name away tucked into its¡¯ rhythmic waves of ¡®decrescendo¡¯s and dramatic ¡®ritardando¡¯s. Although the music itself wasn''t loud, nothing else was emitting a single sound so it was quite easy to engulf the whole house because that day all the staff (the cleaners, the cook, and other regular visitees) went home for the day for their monthly long break. This day was a special day where even staff usually who live in go home to their relatives¡¯ as per the request of the lady of the house. It was the monthly occuring day ¡®she¡¯ liked to spend alone to write. The sun was hidden behind a couple thick clouds so anyone who lost track of time could easily mistake it to be the afternoon when it''s really morning. A young lady that¡¯s only a few years from joining society as an adult was asleep on her desk inches from the music box. Her long brown locks were scattered across the table like a web. She had nodded away to the melodic tune and the lovely breeze that had came in. She had stayed up late writting down ideas for a new book she was going to write. Even in this dim light, you could see the dark circles that had formed underneath her eyes from overwork. The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident. Around her, there are a plethora of books scattered in no particular order. The floor and the tables of the room were stacked with research papers and sticky notes. The smell of lack of sleep and ink permanently stained the walls. Everything in the house except for the gentle movements of up and down of her chest was completely still. Anything for her books To gain inspiration for her books, she had picked up a couple of hobbies. She learned to cook, to sing, to draw, to box, and speak several different languages. She picked up craft and basketball as well. And when she couldn''t find the right words, she learned to paint the world she envisioned for a new story. She had done anything to find inspiration for her books to her heart¡¯s content. She also did somethings simply ''cause it interested her but she always put her books first. She had even bought potted plants to brighten up her workplace for a better condition to write. For a while, her new hobbies kept her preoccupied and entertained for her books. She wrote about all sorts of things inspired by her hobbies. One was about fantastical creatures living in books waiting to be read by humans to become their friend. Another was the horror of an injury when nationals are coming for a sport they really loved. One book was about a magical library that brought you the book you wanted just by writing it down. She always put her love of books first. Never second. Sometimes even forgetting to eat, she had passed out at school once. Several months passed like this. She was content with her growing book collection but something was missing. Something vastly important and easy to miss. Loneliness easily ignored with a book. Another month passed but somewhere along the line, she decided to ignore the gap in her heart by further immersing her self in her passion. She hadn¡¯t recently written one actually. Whether it''s because of a writer''s block, she decided to read more do she had a year¡¯s worth of untouched brand new books imported to her from China and Russia. She spent the next month reading. Russian and Chinese were one of the languages she had picked up so she combed through them pretty quickly. Some nights were lost being dedicated to finishing psychologically engaging books she couldn¡¯t put down. Others were spent as should be: sleeping. Time passed by pretty quickly like this. But something grew in her she could no longer ignore.If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it. She took home anything that interested her. She took photos if she couldn''t. There was never a time she wasn''t thinking about books. She could never imagine herself thinking about something other than books for a long time. It wasn''t in her nature. Her books were always more interesting than anyone around her. The kids at school were more focused on romance or conquering the world. She could never understand that. She was just fine with her books. So after seeing many of her classmates mistreat books from lack of care, she unconsciously distanced herself from everyone at school. Small Encounters Soon, she could no longer ignore the mental tugs on her shoulder. She was first forced to realize this one morning, when it had suddenly started to pour. Some little kids from town had snuck into the forest away from their parents for the sake of adventure where they were caught in the rain that just so happened to be near the mansion. It was on the day she had asked the staff to take their monthly break to go home so she could write. Of course, it had been a while since she had actually used this day to write though. Recently, she had been reading those newly imported books she had gotten. She was already halfway through. For a change in pace, she was baking some sugar cookies when she heard knocks on the main door. She was surprised. All the staff had keys. And burglars wouldn¡¯t knock. Most likely. So she thought it''d be alright to see who it was. Because it was in her usual nature to ignore these if she were in the middle of writing, a rumor in town about her house being haunted started. Of course, she hasn¡¯t done that recently. She hadn''t written in a while. Her curiosity got the best of her she answered the door. In came running three children full of so much energy she wondered if they had gone on a coffee marathon. One of the girls was jumping up and down shouting it raining. The other two were silently pleading to her for a place to take cover. She was taken aback at how much energy the one girl had. And without thinking, she just let them in. She wasn¡¯t in a mood to write anyway and didn¡¯t particularly dislike children so she let them in to wait for the rain pass by. She then remembered that she had been baking cookies a moment ago. She rushed to the kitchen worried about the potentially burning cookies. They followed in pursuit like hungry wolves. They ran after her in their muddy shoes which were left on from the excitement. They made a muddy trail into the kitchen. She didn¡¯t notice because she was too preoccupied about the cookies in the oven. Sometimes she had a one-track mind, especially so when she was stressed. Luckily the cookies were just about done. Nothing was burning. She took out the cookies and a strong smell of sugar and vanilla engulfed the room. Love what you''re reading? Discover and support the author on the platform they originally published on. ¡°Ooh, Cookies! Can I have one? Can I have one?¡±, one of them asked. She looked at them to note that there were more children then before. Another had snuck in, baited by the sweet smells from the cookies. She acted as if she were unaware of this. She didn''t really care. What harm can another child do? She made them count to 300 before having one so they wouldn¡¯t burn themselves. She really cared about little children. After counting, they wolfed down the bulk of cookies in a second. ¡°Woah, slow down; you won''t just give yourself a tummy ache¡±, she looked down and saw the mud trail in half horror and the other half in amazement in the stench and how she hadn''t noticed sooner. ¡°Ahh! Nooo! Awe come on you guys! Oh that sucks, I guess I better clean that up ¡®cause no one else is in the house. You guys are helping too. Take off your shoes right now!¡± Too tired to really get upset, she quickly began to clean. The loud child got really quiet after this. The children were obedient and apologized sincerely. After cleaning up the floor, she made sure the front door was locked properly and decided to give them a bath on a whim. One of them, in particular, stunk as if they¡¯d never seen a bath in two months. It was still raining so she was like, "why not?" During that time, the rain had stopped for a little bit. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds but it soon started to rain again. This time, the sun stayed out and lightning struck. One of the kids started to shake from the first clap of thunder. It was the little boy that had snuck in after the others. She realized his discomfort. After getting them all dried and clothed with clothes that were obviously a few sizes too big for them, she brought them to the east wing: the minor library. This was where she kept books she had already read that couldn''t be fit into the main wing anymore. To comfort the shaken little boy, she decided to tell them a story about the adventures of a broke prince.