I loved my parents dearly and always loved when we got to go on our adventures into the woods or my Mother would make me float upside down and I would burst into a fit of giggles. My family was you normal magical family until the day my Father died. I was 5 years old when these old men came to our house wit the news he had died. We had his funeral and I remember Mother cried a lot. She was never the same after that. The cheerful, funny side of her had gone and now all that was left was a ghost like human. My Mother slowly became sicker and sicker as she refused to eat and spent days in her bedroom just starring at the wall. One morning when I was Seven years old I came into her room to wish her good morning to find her cold as stone and not breathing. My Mother was dead.