She walks alone, exactly ten steps behind you. Clutching her books tightly against her chest, she keeps her bright gray eyes glued to the floor. Her long black hair flows gently to her waist. She glances at you quickly, catching your eye. You smile, causing her to blush, and turn to walk in the opposite direction. You chase after her, running out the door to find she has disappeared into the street. You find she has dropped a small journal, picking it up, you open to the first page.

"his breath-taking eyes make me stare. every time i hear his voice... my heart races and my brain turns to mush. he makes my legs turn to jelly, forcing me to me knees. i love him."

You turn the page and continue to read, pages upon pages of her undying love. At the end, you find, a poem entitled with your name.

You must find her.
You must know her.
You love her, and you don't even know her name.



She is your little gothic cinderella.