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A small candle rests in the distance. A small sphere of an orange-yellow surrounds the flame.

I look down. My palms are up, and a notebook rests on them. The wooden cover is blank, except for a small square in the middle of it. Within the square are smudges of red, yellow, orange, green, blue, purple all mixed together.

I flip to the first page. Drawings of trees, cars, animals are strewn throughout the page. But not drawn with much thought put into it. I flip to the second page. Covering the entire page are scribbles. I can't make out the words but it looks like a story.

Then I come across a page where there is one thing drawn on it. A drawing of a ghost made up of scribbled lines. Suddenly I have an urge to tear off the page. I try, but to no avail. I try the other pages too. With all my might, I can't tear any page out.

Then a gush of wind blows from my left. The notebook starts to fall apart. Cracks start to form in the pages. And then, it all turns to dust, carried away by the wind. I look up to the right as the dust slowly drifts afar.

In the corner of my eye, I can see the flame getting more intense. Then I hear flickering. I look back forward. The candle had transformed into a large, ominous fire. Surrounding the fire, are a row of books. One row of the left, one row of the right. All identical.

All on fire.

Then, I raise my left hand. And realise that an identical-looking book is grasped between my fingers. I look at the cover. It is the same as the notebook, only that within the rainbow of colours, there is a smaller square in the middle with different shades of grey and white.

I flip to the next page.

Rule One: