10:45 pm and I am desperately trying to get Diva to go to sleep. I go sit by her on her bed and watch her play with her paper fairies. (I print out about 3 fairies a day for her on www.pixiehollow.com and she flies them around until they are forgotten or trampled.)
Anyway soon she sheepishly asks if she can sleep on the ground in our bedroom. I sigh, and agree simply because I want to go to bed!
She asks, "Can I bring my fairies?"
Diva, "But not the dead one."
Me, "What?! The dead one?"
Diva, "Yeah, she died...see?"
She runs over to the bathroom and grabs a fairy off the counter that apparently suffered a slow, painful death drowning in the tiny puddles of water by the sink; ink smeared across her face forming a grotesque shadow of her former self.
R.I.P Emily Nightfluff