A rush of delicate breeze- So intricate, so enticing as it came through the open window. It was definitely a day to be out, which is where Amelia wanted to be. It had been merely three months before that Amelia’s house had come crashing down, her father engulfed in those delicious flames. She couldn’t help it; it was her nature. She sat in the attorney’s office, as content as could be. They would be in soon. God knows how long it would last.
The door creaked open just a sliver for a moment, until opening all the way. Mr. Thorne walked into the room, glaring at Amelia, rather than politely greeting. Apparently, this wasn’t his morning either. Mr. Alden Thorne held the look of a firm business man- strict and down to the point. He held a small cup of Starbuck’s coffee in one hand, and a folder in the other. As he walked to his desk, Amelia holding a stern gaze on his features, he slapped the folder onto the desk and sat down gruffly.

“I’m going to be quite frank with you, Ms. Kalbes,” he began in such a tone that sent unsuspecting chills within Amelia. Nothing good could come of this.

“Your record’s not looking good-“ He paused, only to open the folder, scanning through a paper as though looking for proof of his accusation- “It says here that when you were five, you were caught setting the cat on fire at the top of the lighthouse near your home, is that correct?”

She looked at him for a moment, before replying casually, “Yes.”

He continued, “And what of the incident where you burned nearly all of your father’s crops?”

“…Yes.”

This was becoming too insinuating, now- But there is no turning back.

Mr. Thorne shut the folder, rubbing his temples and sighing, “I can’t work with what you have when all you have is against you, Amelia.”

She simply stared out the window, gazing intently upon a nearby oak tree which stood tall over the building. She so longed to be out there, to be out in the warmth of the July sun, to escape her insanity; although little has she realized she only reached the tip of the ice burg.

Taking little notice to her spacing, he simply continued, “I do not feel the need for a court hearing,” He paused once more to skim through her file, “Instead, I will speak to the judge about your placement in required therapy.”

Apparently, this caught her attention, for she sat up promptly, “Excuse me?”

“You will be notified in two days time of your sentence.” As he picked up the file, a briefcase, and his untouched coffee, he added, “Good day, Ms. Kalbes.”

This was only the beginning…

This is the beginning of just a teaser I was coming up with in my spare time during one of my classes in school. I needed somewhere to store it so I could continue later, but I'd appreciate any criticism to improve it before I submit the finished piece.