I hold it close to my chest, hugging the tattere yellow parchment like a teddy bear belonging to a three year old. Just holding it brings me into it’s exsisting world of magic. Magic that feels so mystical it feels fake when it’s not. I bring it back up to my face, examining it closely for the hundreth time like I’ve never seem anything like it before. I feel slightly cheesy, as if I’m in a book staring at a simple object that gives me so many memories and hopes for the future.