Arna Livingston, aged fifteen. Average height and build, soft green eyes and an innocent smile. A young girl obsessed with literature and music, whose imagination is her world. But she will soon find that the imagination is a beautiful place to die here in the Twilight Zone.

"Mum, I'm going to the park," Arna announced from her pale turquoise bedroom as she carefully adjusted her chin length hair.

"Alright, Arna. Be back by four to help me with dinner, alright?"

The door to the teenager's bedroom opened and there stood Mrs. Livingston, a smile on her rounded face and her hands on her plump hips. Arna nodded with a joyous smile, grabbing her beige folder full of stories and gave her mother a peck on the cheek.

With a heart full of happiness and a brain full of ideas, the girl skipped out of her room without a single care in the world. Her destination, the park of dreams, a place where fantasies come alive and your deepest desires slither from beneath the shroud into the light, revealing their true form.