She looked like autumn, when leaves turned and fruit ripened.
First frost meant letting go, so it was always reason to celebrate.
Sometimes you weren't supposed to share pain. Sometimes it was best just to deal with it alone.
For stubborn souls like Lisette, death was easier than the courage it took to actually change your life.
If they just carried on like always, everything would be ok.
It was like she was MADE of cake, light and pretty and decorated on the outside-with her sweet laugh and pink streak to her hair-but it was anyone's guess what was on the inside.