"Goodnight, Tavia," her tired father mouthed monotonously as he flipped off the light switch. Tavia closed her giant blue eyes until she was sure he had reached his own bedroom at the other end of the rather large house. Waiting to hear the creaking door screech shut behind her mom after she had drank one last glass of water from the kitchen, Tavia pulled the fleece blankets away from her and climbed onto the windowsill located a couple feet above her bed. Yep, the stars were most definitely in a good mood tonight.
She opened the window and swung her feet over the wooden window sill and conveniently rested them on the course roof beneath her. Chills sent goosebumps to every square inch of her milky skin. Tying her lengthy golden hair in a neat knot behind her head, she reached inside her bedroom for a blanket before venturing further onto the roof for a better view.
They were breathtaking. She envisioned this very scene thousands of years ago... as a canvas. She pictured a beautiful hand stretching across the massive space... miraculously creating intricate works of art in every corner of the endless cosmos.
Her mind wandered further... to the day of her birth. God had made her slightly small... a six pound six ounce baby. She had nearly white hair, but it would darken to a strawberry-dirty blonde as she grew. Freckles sprinkled across her round face and stubby arms.
Her appearance hadn't changed substantially as she aged. At sixteen years old, she was still the shortest girl in all her classes, and freckles still danced over her face. She was by no means weak or frail - a ridiculous muscle mass compensated her lack of height.
She smiled. Everyone thought her life was so easy. It could be, she thought. Everything seemed to get so complicated so easily.
But at this moment, she refused to think of anything but the beauty surrounding her until her eyes could remain attentive no longer.