Alessa sat on her bed, staring blankly off into space.

She glanced at her ghost reflection in the window: Her straight, brown hair fell well past her shoulders. Her enormous watery-blue eyes were laughed at by other children, but her mother said they were adorable.

(No, they're ugly, Momma, I hate them!)

The nose was just barley too small.

And her skin was white as a ghost.

Any other time, she would be fast asleep.

The wooden bird sprang out of the clock to announce twelve-thirty.

"Come here, Luna", the girl said to her porclain doll, who was seated on her dresser, clear on the other side of the room.

Just like any other time, she cleared her mind of every single thing, except Luna.

Within seconds, she was sliding to the edge of the dresser, but to the point where gravity

should have yanked her to the ground and shattered her, she still hung loosley in the air. Luna bobbed in thin air every few seconds. Finally, she was dangling in front of Alessa. She grabbed her doll and filled her mind again.

Moving things wasn't always as simple as that.

When she started moving things, she would sweat terribly and cramps would grip at her stomach or neck.

But the more she did it, the less the cramps and heat waves occoured.

When the girl grew angry or upset, things would break or hurl themselves across the room without Alessa putting any effort in at all.

There was a time when Alessa was four or five, she was ordered to go to The Corner for the first time for having called Momma a "Stupid Doo-Doo Head" A huge rage built up in her and they both jumped back as the lightbulb almost right above them flickered, went out, and after a few seconds, shattered into a million tiny peices. The debris hit the harwood floor with a high jingle.

Oh, how that girl wished to look like her doll! Luna had a bright grees bow pinned in her shiny, waved, red hair that fell to her petticoated ankles.

Her silk dress was a beautiful blue-green color and stopped with linen and lace not an inch below her porclain knees. Over her petticoats, she wore white buckled shoes.

Her face was pretty and round, with high cheek-bones, green eyes, and natural baby-pink blush.

Alessa finally lay down on her mattress and covered up with the blankets with Luna next to her.

Momma had warned her never to sleep with a doll like Luna, but she did anyway.

"Baby sleep,

Gently sleep.

Life is long and love is deep.

Time will be

Sweet for thee.

All the world to see.

Time to look about and know:

Though the breezes come and go,

How the breeze

Stirs the trees,

How the blossoms grow..." *

She sung her doll the lullaby that her mother used to sing Alessa.

She opened her crusty eyes and saw Momma. "Morning, Momma..." wheezed Alessa, and her eyelids sank.

"I made you a bath, so hurry and get clean." said Momma just loud enough for the girl's eyelids to snap open. She left her daughter's room.

Alessa lay in bed still.

Momma was like a more beautiful version of her daughter.

Her hair was long and brown, but it was natrually curly.

Her eyes were also blue but were just the right size, as was her nose.

Her lips were full and somtimes dressed in wine-colored gloss.

If she couldn't look like Luna, What she wouldn't give to look like Momma!

She finally got up and went to the bathroom.

Just as Momma had said, the tub was filled with water and bubbles. Her blue cotton dress, white stockings,and a pair of pink panties where folded on the toilet lid. Her silver necklace with a cross on it was on top of her clothes.

She took off her nightgown and underthings and stepped into the water.

Warm, with just a suggestion of ice-cold--just how she liked it.

She just sat in the water for at least three minutes.

Like any other time she bathed, she rubbed the bubbles on her legs and arms.

It was a habit she had had since she could remember.

"Momma!" she called.

As usual, Momma was there quickly and grabbed the shampoo and conditoner.

Alessa was seven years old, but she never liked washing her hair, she always put way too much and it always seemed to aim straight for her eyes. Momma got down on her knees in front of the tub and sqeezed the shampoo out, the bottle making the sound that was simillar to that of a huge wind breakage, which never failed to make Alessa giggle.

Momma massaged it into her daughter's hair.

"Sit back."

Alessa did so and Momma rinsed the shampoo from her hair.

Next conditioner, again, making the sound.

Massage.

Sit back.

Rinse.

Momma left the bathrooom.

Alessa unplugged the drain and stepped onto the rug in front of the tub. She grabbed a towel from the shelf and dried off as quickly as she could.

She grabbed her dress and stepped into it, flipping the white collar down after she slipped her arms through the holes. Alessa pulled on her panties and stockings and put the necklace on over her head.

She was still damp under her clothes, but she personally liked the feeling.

Alessa walked out to the living room, where Momma was sitting on the usual couch with the comb and hair-ribbons on the coffee table. She went and sat on the space between her legs and Momma began combing her hair. As she was combing it, she pulled one those elastic-like hairs. Hurt like hell.

The paperback on the table entiled suddenly floated above the table and hurled itself against the wall.

Momma gasped and loudly whispered "Sorry!"

She was thankful it was just a book this time...

 "Me too...," said Alessa softly, she so wished she could control those things.

During the combing process, Momma hit three more elastics, ending with only a few envelopes on the ground.