Daily Story
Once upon a time, there were two presents. They waited under the Christmas tree of a large orphanage with many other presents, eager for Christmas day to come.
One package was a large box, covered in red tissue and graced with a large green bow. The package was proud of his dressing, as he was one of the most handsome boxes under the tree.
His friend was a flat white box, dingy from being set too close to the hearth, but earnest and pure in his own excitement to be unwrapped.
Christmas morning came, and by-the-by all the presents were snatched up from the tree and unwrapped. All but the little white box. Everyone passed over him because he wasn't as flashy as the other gifts. Everyone but the oldest girl in the orphanage.
She didn't care that the package wasn't the prettiest, or that it was a little bit dingy. So was she.
So she picked up the package and unwarpped it. Inside was the most beautiful, warm grey wool cloak she had ever laid eyes on, and they were happy.
She stared out the window, resting a cheek on the stone wall. Her eyes were inevatably drawn to the party going on down below on the grounds. It was her own birthday party, her own special day that they were celebrating, and she wasn't allowed to be there.
“Christabel,” She chided herself, “You are thirteen, practically an adult. You can go to your own party.” She looked out the window, feeling the longing building up in her like a volcano. She tunred away from the scene below, and fell into bed. There was no way she could disobey her parents, being thirteen or not.