by Sherry Donacy
"Alouette, gentille alouette. Alouette, je te plumerai..." The jack-in-box began to play against the impact of his finger tips, its cloth body spasming on its spring in laughter at the terror in his eyes. "You wouldn't want to get locked in now would you?" ~Jayden doesn't belong, he has never belonged. An old soul born in the wrong age, plagued by undefined dreams bleeding into his reality.