Hey all! Welcome to my drabble!!

I hope you enjoy reading what I post here!

Inspired by Okamimyst's drabble, I thought I'd do my drabble a little bit differently than the usual noun list. This drabble will consist of little snipits inspired by images, either from my own files or from the internet. I will try my hardest to stray from meerly describing what's in front of my eyes and go a little bit deeper into the 5 W's and H of the image. In any case, I will only posting the link to the photograph at the beginning of the post so the thread won't overload slow computers. Hope you enjoy!!

The List (will be added to as I go along):

1. "Fairy Tale Fantasy"
2. "Stillness Night"
3. "Reveal to Me"
4. "I Will Learn to Breathe, Again"
5. "Medicine of My Smile"
6. "Anouska," "Avalon," and "Sneakers"
7. "Trinidad Surf"

1. "Fairy Tale Fantasy"

Edward emerged from the shelter of the stoney, pine covered pass onto the narrow track along the mountain side. What he saw standing among the strands of billowing mist caused him to stand stock still and turn whiter than he was naturally. There it was--Eala Castle--its stone white turrets rising up out of the teeth of the mountain mist. And it was there that Edward must go. There into the castle that lay sleeping half-hidden in its white shroud.

"Why?" cried his mind. "Why are you taking yourself into the depths of this land, of that castle? Are you mad?" But Edward knew full well why he was venturing into that dewy shroud. She was trapped within those white stone walls, and Edward could not bear to leave her there.

2. "Stillness Night"

Standing on the rocky shore, I looked out over the inky depths of the bay towards the other side. The the lights shone brightly underneath a sky lit by the colors of the Borialis. The night air chilled me to the bones, and my breath breathed white in the frosty air. Ignoring the cold, I closed my eyes to the dim world around me. Against my cheeks I could feel the light touch of the wind that always accompanied the Borialis.

It was my favorite time of night; when the still quiet overtakes and calms the bustle of the day. And standing here on this little rocky pulpit with my eyes closed, I knew that God was there.

Opening my eyes, I gazed across the water at the lights of Bringham. Somewhere among all those brilliant points was what I had been sticking further and further back in my mind. Living among those glittering lights were memory upon memory. Standing there, in the presence of all my faded memories, I suddenly realized just how long it'd been since I'd stepped into the sheltering form of a church.

Looking out on those lights, that to me represented so much of my past, I came to a resolve.

3. "Reveal to Me"

There was a mirror in the room. It's smooth, ripple-less surface was framed by a dark, ancient wood. The image reflected was one she didn't recognize. A pale face; long, dark hair; green eyes behind black, square frames; but where was the bright spot? Where was the familiar green sparkle hanging on a crecent around her neck? Then, she remembered. Blue hands. Electric blue hands agaisn the black room. She closed her eyes. She couldn't breathe. Darkness. No blue light. Safety. She opened her eyes. A blanched face stared out from the glass. No moon. No emerald. No Stone. She let the curtain fall.

4. "I Will Learn to Breathe, Again"

There was a small, gold leaf end table just inside the doors. It reminded her of a desk painted to resemble something Baroque. The desk was hidden in a small room by lace curtains and glass beads that glittered when sunlight hit them. She knew she’d been in the room; she just couldn’t place it in her mind. But she knew it was real.

Lying on this evocative circular end table was a single flower. She approached the table. No, it wasn’t a flower. It was a rose. A rose. She had never seen roses here before. Or any flowers, for that matter. She wondered where it came from. She picked it up. It felt dry and dead. The blossom, once a lovely pink, was faded far past its once brilliant hue. She brought the lifeless blossom to her nose and breathed in the faint remembrance of a scent.

Rose in hand, she walked across the room, the satin hem of her dress caressing her toes. Here was a blank parchment-colored wall, accented only by an old, dark wood framed mirror. It was impossible to keep from gazing into that large piece of glass. There she was—pale, dark hair, green eyes, glasses. She didn’t need to look to her neck to know that something was missing. It read on her face; in her eyes; on her heart. She looked down at the rose and then back to her reflection. She breathed in a shaky breath, turned her back to the glass, and sank to the floor. The rose fell from her hand to rest against the cream satin pooled about her knees tucked beneath her body. She cradled her head in her hands, doubling her chest over her knees. The rose had revealed something to her that she didn’t want to know—she was dead. Whether it was a physical death she couldn’t say. She had had her suspicions from the moment she awoke in that bed perhaps years ago. Apart from her night terrors, she felt nothing. Her face was a blank slate, as was her heart and mind. Even the scraps of dreams that floated about her days that seemed too real to be truly dreams, evoked no emotions. She didn’t want to dead—feelings were created for a reason, and she wanted to feel them; every last one. She choked on her thoughts, a dry sob caught in her chest and throat. Finally, she screamed; she howled. In the chaos that tumbled through her mind and body, one determined thought prevailed:

“I will learn to breathe again.”

5. "Medicine of My Smile"

In the center of the room was a round table with a vase filled with a plethora of small, purple flowers. She leaned over to breathe in their scent, her hands clasped behind her back. As the smell delighted her nose, she closed her eyes. She smiled as she imagined herself lying in field looking up at the underside of thousands of dainty, purple blossoms. Suddenly, the field wasn't so imaginary.

Through the crowd of blossoms before her face, she could see the indigo sky dotted with tufts of clouds. She sat up and looked over her shoulder to the right. A boy lay at a 90 degree angle from where her head had been. His arms rested underneath his sandy head, and a big grin was spread across his face. Lying 45 degrees from him, was a girl, her blue eyes wide open and crinkled around the corners in laughter.

Turning her head, she looked over her left shoulder. Here, in the same pattern were two more teenagers. The first an dark haired and dark skinned girl, and then a boy with the most interesting face she'd ever seen. And then, she was sure she'd seen it before. In fact, she was sure she'd seen all of those faces lying in that star pattern hundreds of times over. She scrambled to her feet, and stared down at those frozen smiling faces. Flashes of memories crossed in front of her face. Suddenly, their faces weren't smiling; they were speaking, but not a sound could be heard.

The sandy haired boy was standing in front of her, saying one word, over and over again. She squinted, trying to read his lips. "Kat..." She took a step back, her heel crunched against something hard. She looked down. Something green glinted in the light of the imaginary field.

"Kat!" Sounds bombarded her ears. The others in the star were standing now, all of them calling to her. Her heart thudded. She couldn't stay; those faces tore at her heart and mind too much. She turned and ran, leaving behind the star and the sparkling green emerald lying among the stalks of those daity, pruple flowers.

Short on breath, she opened her eyes. She pulled her face away from the vase of flowers and left the room, her face more ashen than usual.

6. "Anouska," "Avalon," and "Sneakers"

She sat on the chair she'd placed by her window and drew back the curtain. The outside air was dim and haze, but even through the thick haze, she could see one thing: water. And, in the distance, the dark shadows of tall mountains. A mountain lake, and she was sure she was in the middle of it. A castle on an island in the middle of lake cut off from the world by high mountains. Where was she? Avalon? No, Avalon would not be this lifeless. Besides, there was no King Arthur here. No, this was not Avalon.

Poised in the chair, she looked away from the window with tired, listless grren eyes and tried to think. There was as much of a haze in her mind as there was outside the window. It was almost as if her location and her own mind were meant to be kept secret from her. She knitted her thin brows together and pursed her lips, willing the haze to disappear.

Sneakers. A pai of black ones and a pair of blue ones. The blue ones were her own. The black ones.... She looked up. Sandy hair and blue eyes. She couldn't remember his name...

The same black sneakers. The same face, but filled with worry and concern. She was lying on something.

"Kat." Hurt and sadness. "Kat. I'm sorry. Forgive me, Kat. I'm sorry." What did he have to be sorry about?

Movement. Figures clothed in white. A red cross from somewhere. Was she ill? She couldn't remember.

She lifted her eyes from the floor and returned her gaze to the window. Where was she? Why was she here?

The dim, hazy scenery returned no answer.

7. "Trinidad Surf"

Finally, the mountains were behind him. Edward turned to gaze at the steep rocky slopes behind him. The sky-piercing crags caused a surge of pride to swell in his breast. To him it was amazing that he had made it through those treacherous passes without aid, except from his mount, especially at this time of the year. Here, at the foot of the cliffs that gave way to the peaks high above, all was fine; it was not yet cold enough for snow to be seen upon the ground. But in the high passes, and even in some of the higher foothills, snow was abundant. If Edward had waited any longer to make the trek, those peaks would have been impassable.

His hands on his hip in triumph, Edward turned to survey the area where he was, and to find where the chestnut had gone off to. There she was. Playing in the water of....a massive lake. Immediately, Edward's pride disappeared. The lake was large enough to have actual waves, and as they crashed against the rocky shore, Edward's confidence dwindled more and more. His gazed moved up and down the shorline and then further out across the lake. There, almost in the very center of the expanse of water, was Eala, somehow more massive than the body of water it sat in. The tall, white spires tore at the sky in much the same way as the terrific crags behind him. There was definitely no way he could do this on his own, especially without a boat.

Edward sighed heavily, and turned back toward the mountains. He did not want to have to go through those again. He swung the pack he wore on his back around and dug in the front pocket. His hand closed around a metal case that he withdrew from the pack. Opening it, he found his cell phone undamaged. He opened it, shocked to find he had a signal, and dialed. If he was to rescue the girl trapped within the gargoyled walls of Eala, he would need his team. And a boat. A big boat.

8. "Moonlit Rose"

The hall was slightly tilted. She couldn't be sure if it was supposed to be that way or not.The further she walked the more it would tilt--first to one side and then to the other. It made her dizzy. Or was she dizzy beforehand? She shrugged it off. At the end of the hall were two narrow and tall doors, covered in gold leaf etchings.

One hand grasped the low brass knob, and the other lay flat against the wood of the door. Flutes, lutes, and lyres. A music room? Curious, she turned the knob and stepped inside. No, not a music room. There was too much--daylight? She looked to her right and to her left. Two gray stone statues with wings folded back and stern, guarded looks across their faces. Yes, daylight. There were too many rooms for a music room. And too many plants. At least she thought they were plants. They room was tilting too much for her to be sure.

In the center of the strange light-fileld room was a victorian couch, a verdant green in color with dark--mahagony? With her hands out for balance, she stumbled to the couch. Resting on the green upholstery, was a red flower--a rose? She put her hand out to touch it. Something sharp bit her finger. Yes, it was a rose. Carefully, she picked it up and brought it to her nose. She blinked as the petals touched her face. The distance was closer than she'd expected. She breathed in the sweet scent.

Suddenly, she was tired; exhausted. She sat down on the couch and brought her hand to her head. The room tilted some more. She closed her eyes and laid down on the sofa. Her eyelids opened, and she tried to judge the room as it tilted this way and that. The windows were a ways to her right? No, left? No, right. They reached far up to the ceiling like cathedral windows. The ceiling was a swirling sky awash with a plethora of pink clouds and cherubs that seemed to be actually flying around over her head. Or was that just because the room was tilting? She put her wrist to her head. Was she hot? She couldn't tell. Everything was strange; eerie, not like this place wasn't eerie already, but... She sighed and closed her eyes. Maybe she would just sleep a little while....

Strictly Ballroom

The lighting in the room was dim. Perhaps it was in part due to the maghony walls, perhaps it was due to the lack of daylight outside. She looked down to find herself dressed in an elegant ballroom dance from the '30s--deep purplish-red with black feather trip and sequins made to shimmer in the dim light of the room. Music began to play, the lighting increased, people filled the room, their voices just a sold wall of sound. A hand was extended in her direction, she took it and floated about the room in the arms of a young man in a tuxedo. Faces and colors blurred as they moved in swirls and patterns over the hardwood floor of the maghony room.

Voices forced their way into her ears.

"Miss. Miss. Are you alright? Are you awake?" They certainly weren't any of the voices here. She stepped away from the man in the tuxedo, one out in front of her, the other to her forehead. The room continued to spin. Her eyelids fluttered. She fell. Aboslute darkness. Perhaps this was better; there weren't any spinning rooms in the dark.