Darlene Heisse was out of town on what Desma only knew as "business" she didn't care exactly what her mother did when she left the city, she just cared that the woman was gone. The Heisse household was close enough to St. Magdalena's Seminary that during Dez's free time (what very little of it she had, doing all those damned chores) she was able to visit her mother (when home) or become a couch potato in front of the stupid box in the comfort of her own living room.

Some of the best times in Des's life were from Christmases past, being little and just spending time with her mother playing in the snow making snow men, baking cookies and decorating the tree. Unfortunately...Desma had been "screwing up" a lot lately and that was putting a strain on the pair's mother-daughter relationship. Her mother not being around was making her sad, and she found a lot of comfort in the snow globes, that turned out sang a very soft, sad song.

She wasn't entirely fond of the idea that her mother thought business was more important than Christmas. Desma wasn't into a lot of that touchy-feely bullshit, but she liked the idea her mother at least cared enough to be around. It was bad enough Darlene felt she was caring for her child by sending her to a boarding school for more-or-less troubled youth. Dez hadn't thought there was much wrong in her way of living. Of course she didn't find anything wrong with her pointed anti-social behavior, lack of interest in studies (Ds on report cards don't make you a horrible person, do they?) and of course occasionally skipping class.

The shaggy brown haired girl lay sprawled across an overstuffed armchair, legs thrown over one arm, back arched over the other. It was her favorite place to 'veg' out and watch the television. However, on this afternoon the remote was laying abandoned on the beige carpeting, and the television was switched to the idle blue auxiliary screen. The teen wasn't even aware that with the snow, the satellite dish wouldn't be working anyway.

Desma was holding one of the strange snow globes. She'd acquired the musical globe from that place in the mall, she was trying to remember the name of it, but her thoughts felt muddled as she looked at the delicate pig tailed woman within the globe.

Desma's pale hands shaking she turned the globe and cranked the small knob on the bottom for the umpteenth time. The melancholy song started again and Desma turned it slowly to watch the snow sprinkle down to the bottom. She'd been so compelled by the little nicknack that she had acquired another one of them...and then another. She felt completely addicted to the soft tune, she would turn the small silver keys in tandem, trying to get them to match up, or play them in the round. At times she would forget her one other addiction, nicotine. When listening to the song, and shaking the little globes, Desma wanted little else.