In the village ran a great and wide dirt road. Though it ran through the village and was the main road which was used to enter, it actually lay on the outskirts bordering a vast forrest. Though much of the land was covered in snow the dirt road was only partially so. Carved out were the tracks of carriages that had made their way back and forth.
On the left hand side of the road were the houses considered less than desirable. They rose several stories high and backed onto the forest which was dense and green. Though these houses were elaborate and carefully designed they were shadowed by the residences on the opposite side of the road.
On the opposite side of the road were houses built of brick that covered larger areas of land though did not rise so high. They were elaborately designed, spacious, the greater residences that divulged wealth and prosperity yet hid secrets. They cascaded into the valley below neighbouring closely to one another. Though these families had wealth the land these houses sat on could only provide a house and not elaborate gardens.
They appeared colder than the houses on the other side on the road, made of grey stones and roof tops covered in a light frosting of snow.
There were four of us. Two girls, two boys, all in our late teens to early twenties. Our lives were entwined by society and connected by friendship. Though I knew all of their stories and witnessed them all, I only truly experienced the life of one girl.