Frigid, cold walls, surround the wooden heart, Splintered and bare, having lost it's protective bark,

They say that blood's more thick, but water runs more clear and doesn't leave a stain

Dear Diary, You’re the only one I can tell about my super alter-ego Butterfly girl. Not even my best friend Jenny Treacher knows and we’ve been best friends since forever

A spindly splodge of ink god spilt, you make up for your looks with grace; strutting upon the air with stilts; drifting past at a ghostly pace. Oh daddy long legs, you’re so queer

Language can alter consciousness; letters like L.S.D.; stories can take you on a trip beyond reality. Try prose instead of Prozac; lines of verse and not Cocaine;

Susan's journey has to start somewhere, and that is right here, today. Her life is about to become very complicated, beyond her wildest dreams and more importantly she will unravel a mystery that spans space and time.

(Story begins after 'The Hoax' heading below) Intro.

When I was a little girl I used to have to be tucked up in bed before the landing light could be turned off, so that when I was left in the dark I knew I was safe.

I wasn’t bothered about it myself. But Ian was obsessed with it. And late one evening, he finally persuaded me to sneak out into the darkness with him - to see the train in the night...