Staring out the attic window of Foxworth Hall, I feel like my life has finally been completed, though I can't help but feel sad for the lives of those much less fortunate than myself. Like my little Buttercups, Cory and Carrie, Buttercups that wilted and died long before their time, and my dark Prince Julian, and of course, my sweet, first love; Bartholomew Winslow. Not a day has passed since my Christopher Doll died that I haven't wished for the clock to turn back so that I may beg forgiveness from every single one of them. From my Buttercups for not realizing what was happening sooner, from my dark Prince for not loving him as I should have, and from my first love for destroying him.

My one solace, is that their memories will always remain strong in the hearts of those I am soon to leave behind.

It is with a heart filled with all the pride and love a mother can possess that I finish writing this, and dedicate all of my manuscripts to both of my sons in the hope that they will learn from my mistakes, and never let the past repeat itself.

My sweet Jory, and my darling Bart, I hope you'll have these published so that the world may know what happened to us, the four attic mice that God forgot, but more importantly, so that the world will know, that despite what happened, I have finally forgiven momma.

There was more that I, Catherine Leigh Dollanganger Sheffield, wanted to write, to include in my final manuscript, but my eyes feel tired and my heart heavy as I extract what is to be the final page of my final book, and I place it with the rest of the pages, before lifting the heavy stack and move them to my private vault. Inside, I place the manuscript and then close the heavy door, and lock it into place. On a note that would be delivered to Jory after my death, I have left him the combination so that he may find the final addition to the horror that had started when I was just twelve years old.

Looking around my room, with the luxurious Swan bed, and the fine furniture's, the paintings ( many of which were my Christopher's and Jory's ) I shake my head softly. Sometimes I feel as though I'll wake from this life and sit up in my peppermint pink bedroom back in Gladestone, race down the stairs and find momma and daddy eating breakfast with the Buttercups sitting side by side, Cory refusing to eat his eggs and bacon as Carrie screams that they want cold cereal with raisins. I laugh as I go to the Jewelry box my youngest son had given me last Christmas, and from it I extract the wedding ring Paul had put on my finger, the locket with the small chip of diamond from my Christopher, and the ruby garnet ring my father had given me. Each of these small pieces of my past I place on my body in their respective places, before I leave the room.

Up the stairs I go to the room reconstructed to look like that of which the Four Dresdon Dolls had lived in for many tortured years, and from there, I walk up the narrow stairs and into attic, which I had been proudly adorning with paper flowers, their colors still bright and happy in the dim light, though not one of them was colored yellow. To this day I still hate the color yellow. I sit slowly into one of the attic window sills, and lean my head back onto the wood behind my head as I stare out at the expansive lawns. There, just as I remember him is daddy, holding Carrie's little hand, and Cory was holding on to hers, and momma onto Cory's. All of them were young, doll like, looking as they had before daddy had been so tragically taken from us. As I watch them, they look over as my Christopher joins them, looking as he had the last time I'd seen him, his hand held out to me.

I watch his lips move, and though I hear nothing I know what he is saying. "Come, my Lady Cath-er-ine. There's nothing left for you here, come with us to where the purple grass grows." My heart feels so overwhelmed with the love that I feel for him, a love I no longer feel to be evil, and I nod and reach for him as well. Before I can join him and the others though, I hear a voice pipe up behind me.

"Miss Cathy, are you alright?"

Turning my head, I see Trevor standing there, that kind smile on his face and I smile at him and nod my head. "Yes Trevor. I'm going to him now. To my Christopher." I hear myself say it, but I no longer feel my lips move, nor do I see Trevor. All I see is daddy, momma, Cory, Carrie and Christopher with his hand reaching for me. I feel my feet touch the ground, and I look down to see that it is just as purple as I always imagined it would be. I place my hand in Christopher's, and I let him take me to a place where the purple grass grows, where he rides a unicorn in white armor, and a green dragon's head rests on a twelve foot spear.