• Freya gently ran her hand over the soft white petals of the water lilly. The silky petals instantly wilted. Freya frowned and examined her hand. She clenched her fists and then let out a yelp. The nail of her index finger had cracked. She swore loudly.
    "A young lady like yourself should not be using such foul language!" Her mother snapped from the balcony.
    "I'm sorry mother." Freya dropped a curtsey. Her mother receded into the mansion. Freya looked up at the dome which covered the entire garden. She started to cry when she remembered that not once in her life had she felt the rain on her skin or the snow on her lips. She knew no other people her age. The only friends she had were the gardeners sons, the maid, the cook and her cat. The gardeners sons were older than her though. They were both twenty. Twins. They often poked fun at her. Well, Elliot did. Damian was more of a quiet nervous sort of person. The maid and the cook were much older than her. The maid usually brought Freya flowers from the outside and the cook would hold conversations with Freya in the kitchen. Suddenly, as Freya was walking along the neat paving path, Elliot and Damian joined her side.
    "Nice day, eh miss Freya?" Elliot laughed.
    "Why yes it is. But I wouldn't know how nice it really is. I live in a bloody dome." Freya pouted.
    "Well we have. It's nothing special. Just cold sometimes and warm other times." Elliot grinned.
    "Yes, miss Freya, it's really quite boring." Damian chuckled.