She saw only white. But wasn't it the combination of all colors? A sigh resonated in the room, and a distorted reflection was displayed. The figure of a woman in a wedding gown, embroidered with flowers and decorated with bows and laces.

Fresh bouquet of lilies lied forgotten on the bed of the chamber, enveloping the enclosed room with the light and soothing scent. Long raven black hair flowed down the back of the gown, covered with opaque white veil, decorated with gems and pearls. A proof of wealth.

The woman turned. All she saw was a dream. A mixture of her own desires, like the color white, a mixture of a lot of colors.

Tears fell down, unstoppable. Sobs went unheard, agony was not heeded.

Then, what she saw was all red. Red all over the room. The redness of her own blood that splashed everywhere when the bullet found a comfortable place inside her body.

Then all she saw was black. She was satisfied. At least she had the chance to be a bride for her prince charming.

Even if it was in dream.

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