Ann stepped through the door of the small white cottage nestled deep in the forest, and sighed. At last she was home. 

For years as a child she
had visited this place. Then it was her great grandmother's home, then her grandmother's.

Ann always wondered why her mother never wanted to live there when it passed to her, but now, it was Ann's.  It was the only place she felt that she ever truly belonged.
 
Unpacking her belongings took no time at all, she brought little with her. Apart from this place, there was nothing in her life that mattered enough.
 
She wandered from room to room.  The sun drifted through the windows bathing each in a warm amber glow, the same glow Ann felt being here. 

Walking up the old oak staircase, she marvelled at how little things had changed over time.  It was exactly as she remembered, all those happy memories overwhelmed her, she felt as if she would burst! 

The room at the end of the small landing was the room she used to stay in when she visited.  Although it had been a number of years, it looked exactly the same.
 
The large bed was at one end, and in contrast to the furnishings in other rooms this one was white.  The  wooden wardrobe, painted white.  The dresser white as well.  Its large oval mirror the centre piece.  Set out, as if she had never left, her wooden hair brush, small jewellery box and an old bottle of perfume, almost empty now, evaporated over the years, still sat on top of the dresser. 

Suddenly overcome with tiredness from the events of the day, she slowly walked over to the bed and lay down on top.  In no time at all, Ann was asleep.
 
The clock in the hall chimed midnight.  Ann, obliviously still in the...