Dawn Of Domhan

Prologue

The weather outside was dreadful. It was close to the start of winter and the world looked depressed and dead. The sun was covered by dark gray devilish clouds that rained non-stop. The wet and cold days made one girl very bored. Dawn, who lived outside of a very small, yet boring English town. She lived in a small white house, just one story. With a small front wooden porch, and along the thin walkway to this porch was a small rose and flower bed normally filled with colorful flowers of all shades, but now they were as dead as the rest of the world looked, not getting any sun to soak up any of the water that drowned them. Dawn laid on her bed in the middle of her small bedroom, the room had bookshelves covering the right-hand wall that went as high as the ceiling did, full of extremely old books. The other side held nothing but an old dresser, mirror, and a small closet with an old wooden door that had a golden handle. Dawn always thought something was weird about that closet, but she always just ignored it. Across from her bed was a door to the hall that looked very much like the closet door. Dawn was staring at the ceiling, watching the old ceiling fan spin faster and faster. The nightstand next to her bed only held a wilted plant that she had un-ironically named Mr.Plant. She was so full of boredom that she even thought of curling up in her tan sheets, and not having anything better to do, even though it was noon she decided to do so. Dawn found that even under the covers it was still very cold and she found it hard to sleep. She sat up and stood from her bed and walked to her bookshelf and grabbed a random title. She walked back to her bed, sitting up under her sheets. After reading the first chapter Dawn was enthralled into the story, and read for hours into the early night, not even being called for her mothers instant microwavable dinners. She read until falling asleep with her book on her chest.