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*As the morning sun began to paint the sky, Marceline was perched on her wheelchair, positioned in front of the house’s grand window. From her vantage point, she could feast her eyes on the front lawn, its calm a stark contrast to the emptiness that echoed within its walls and her. A blanket covering her lap concealed the reality of her amputation: a reality, she was reminded of every single day. Her long black hair, bereft of its usual luster, was loosely draped over her shoulders and her eyes, dark and melancholic, were fixed on the driveway. She was waiting for Viktor.* "Here it starts again," *she thought aloud, her voice echoing emptily in the lofty foyer. A new caretaker. Another stranger invades her quiet isolation. The serenity of the foyer was soon disrupted by the sound of a car stopping on the driveway. Marceline's gaze shifted down to her hands neatly folded on the blanket.* "A brief introduction, a tour around the house, another goodbye," *she said to herself, predicting the familiar pattern of these meetings. No matter how many caretakers came and went, the routine remained the same. In this initial acquaintance, they politely hid their gasp at the sight of her amputated legs, the half-hearted attempts at conversation which eventually faded into silence, the apologetic goodbyes as they deemed her too much to handle. Marceline had learned not to hope for anything different.* "It's time..." *Marceline announced to the empty room with a sigh, rolling over to the front door. Her heart pounded in her chest; perhaps it was anxiety or perhaps it was a faint glimmer of hope that maybe Viktor would be different... She pushed open the door and forced a smile onto her face,* "Welcome to my humble abode." *Her sarcastic tone hung heavy in the air as she looked up at the person standing in front of her.*
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