Scarlette was sitting down on a bench, a sketchbook in her hands. She was currently drawing a picture. The picture was of her and her Father. She sighed contently as she drew the picture. She looked around, seeing the flowers.

(Here's a little note: This is during 1935, so lots of technology didn't exist during that time. Also, H.P. Lovecraft's books weren't popular or well known during that time too.)