<div class="floatleft">(http://cdn1.gossipcenter.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/story_header/photos/natalie-portman-topless-ad-dior.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Natalie Brewster<br/><strong>Age:</strong>19<br/><strong>Crime:</strong>acquitted of first degree murder by  reason of insanity, residing now at Gravehaven Mental Institute<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Library, Main Lobby - in case of emergency pull!<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong><br/><br/><br/><hr/><br/>A living doll. That was how Natalie Brewster had been described in the press, perfection had never been so tragic they had said. How could someone with so much promise and talent commit such a dreadful act? Insanity; the poor child had cracked under the unyielding pressure of a perfection seeking monster and the insatiable greed of a wicked stage mother.  Justice had been called for and met with a swift ruling of “temporary insanity” there was a small cry for the verdict to be turned over, after all a woman had been murdered, but the louder voice carried effectively silencing those that would string up the pretty ballerina. Another voice sounded along with those sympathetic to young dancer. The Arts had a lot to answer for! The debate had twisted in a direction that had derailed the truth, leaving the bewildered prima ballerina struggling to understand her role in the horrendous crime. Her words echoed in her silent mind “I don’t understand” the answer to her question never answered but for a sadistic laugh ringing in her ears.<br/><br/>Natalie stared sightlessly out of the window of the sluggish minivan that crawled through the heavy traffic. The snow, blackened with pollution, had made a mess of the roads leaving frustrated drivers to take out their frustrations sending crude gestures punctuated by the sounding of their horns, screaming their disgruntled displeasure into the crisp night air. It was only mere hours beforehand that Natalie had been vehemently protesting her transfer, moving from the comfortable single bedroom she sought solace in, to the windowless patient outing transport vehicle. It wasn’t the group therapy she had objected to, but the method of transpiration.  Small, confined places caused the normally reserved, almost timid beauty to strike out wildly, kicking, screaming, and biting…anything to show her displeasure. Had it not been for the keen observation of the young porter and his suggestion that they simple choose an alternative vehicle, preferably one with windows; Natalie might not have found her way to the library at all that fateful night.  As luck would have it however, one of the guards volunteered his own vehicle for use of the transport, instantly calming the troubled young girl.  Regardless of the reason, the fact remained that Natalie was horribly late, and with the traffic causing even more delays, it would be a miracle if she made it there at all.<br/><br/>The Library stood stoically, like a dinosaur of knowledge, looming over the grey coated streets. Its windows welcomed only those seeking the musty smells unable to be duplicated by the stream of technology. There were those that clung to the old way of life, preferring the complete sensory experience of reading a book. The feel of the thick paper under their fingers, the smear of ink, the sound of rustling papers, and the smells…one cannot discount the rich musty smells of age and intellect. Natalie bent her head in order to look up into the night sky, still huddled in the back seat of the minivan that now sat idling by the stairs of the great building, pondering the question; would she be able to check out a book or two?.<br/><br/>“You gotta go in Nat, you are already late sweetie”<br/><br/>Doug was a kind man, one of many that worked or the Gravehaven Mental Institute that had come to care for the lost and saddened girl. The storm of words that surrounded the trial had twisted the ugly facts, leaving Natalie depicted as the victim rather than predator. It was in the sweet madness of her predicament that others had come to see her as someone in need of protection. The only question was what was she to be protected from?<br/><br/>“Natalie honey, do you want me to walk you in?”<br/><br/>His kindness penetrated the fog, grasping Natalie’s attention as she drew her eyes from the once majestic building, placing them firmly unto the smiling face of her protector. Her response was spoken, not by her tongue, but by the softness of her expressive honey brown eyes and the gentle shake of her head. Slipping from the van, Natalie paused only long enough to draw her coat around her body, shivering from the cold that bit her exposed skin, showing no mercy.  The breath that stuck to her lungs, stabbed at her throat as the temperature change chilled her bones. Her nose instantly growing red from the chill in the air causing her rosebud lips to shiver with the effort to keep warm.  The sound of the electric window winding down droned softly in the back of her mind as the sound of Doug’s voice encouraged her to keep moving.<br/><br/>“Go on Natalie… its warmer inside. I’ll be here waiting for you when you get back. This will help sweetness…it’ll be good for you.”<br/><br/>Turning slightly to glance over her shoulder, Natalie offered the kind guard a soft smile. “Thank you” she replied softly, taking comfort in knowing she would not be left alone. Her movements were, as always, graceful. Her posture carried perfectly after years of training giving her a flawlessly regal elegance that emphasized her delicate form.  Like the perfection she had worked so hard to achieve, Natalie was the epitome of grace and refinement, yet there was a voice that whispered, constantly building the lies until her eyes grew soulless, darkening them until they became almost completely black.<br/><br/>Swiftly, Natalie danced up the stairs, light on her feet and with her hands buried deep in her coat pockets. The wind nipped at her heels, pushing her into the almost abandoned building, forcing her to keep her head down until at last, she was sheltered.  Once inside she paused only long enough to adjust to her environment. The sound of her footfalls echoed through the empty hall as Natalie walked towards the grand stair case. “Hello?” she called out softly, smiling with relief to hear her voice as it had always been, rather than the gravely sound she had not recognized. “Hello?” She called again, moving closer before stopping dead in tracks. The strong smell of smoke clung to the air, causing Natalie to choke on her words. A thick scent of melted paint and scorched wood grew stronger the closer she moved to the staircase. Its bitter aroma assaulted her nostrils, a direct invasion to the rich aroma of knowledge that normally lingered. It’s sickening scent grew smug, leaving her brain to view it as nothing more than an abomination to the air, causing Natalie to choke upon its pungent fragrance, drawing a nagging cough forcing her to cover her mouth to keep it from invading her lungs.<br/><br/>Natalie fidgeted as her eyes darted around the lobby, searching for a guard or person in charge in order to alert them of the dangers…there was no one.  She would have to seek help herself, but how? Another question…her mind was flooded with them; useless, each one of them, utterly useless. Frustration became a thick lump forming in her throat as panic began to creep into her mind, drawing the laughter that mocked and ridiculed her at every chance. Though today it would not come out the winner, for a small red box hung on the wall caught her eye, drawing her focus long enough to allow her muddled brain to register its label and function; in case of emergency, pull. Moving as quickly as she was able, Natalie reached a slim, elegant hand, grasping the silver metal lever firmly within he fingers and yanked down with all of her might.  Instantly her hands moved to cover her ears as the fire alarm screamed out in protest.<br/>