Once upon a time there was a suburb. It was like any other suburb – with calm streets, busy dads and demanding moms.
       “Mathew, come here right now! You can’t run around the yard with your t-shirt off. Put this on.”
       “But, mom, I can’t. Can you put it on for me?”
       “Yes, you can! None helps you put it on in the daycare. You’re grown up now!”
       Mathew was just about to turn four, but he knew so many words that even the six year olds did not terribly mind playing with him. Also, he could use door keys and unlock the alarm of Dad’s car.
       “Jasmine, stop staring through the window and finish your croissant!”
       The amusement park behind the window disappeared and only the White Squirrel remained in the sunlit backyard. The White Squirrel looked at Jasmine and ran off to the top of the tallest tree. Mom was busy around the fridge and hadn’t noticed anything. She always missed the magic that happened whenever Jasmine looked intensely through the window. Once there was a battle of ancient knights. Another time, wild animals had gathered to discuss something important. Once there was a shining castle and she hoped that one day she could actually go there.
       “Jasmine, could you draw me a tractor, please! Or a truck?”
       Jasmine didn’t talk much, but she could draw anything her little brother asked her to. She could also play the piano. Strangely, the grown ups always applauded her Midnight Sonata performance and never her own compositions. True, her compositions were a little unpredictable even to herself and she could never repeat them, but she felt she deserved applause for her creativity rather than for rendering someone else’s.
       “May, June, July, November, September…” Jasmine was counting the months left to the first school day. She got the right number, only something didn’t sound quite right.
       Mathew was sitting in the sand box, playing with his new tractor toy. It was orange like the neighbour’s real tractor. Mathew loved everything orange.
       “In fact, I feel like an orange juice“, and he ran off to the house.
       Little shiny ants were running around, coming in and out of a small hole in the ground. Some of them were carrying seeds to store for the coming winter. Jasmine wondered whether they knew what month it was exactly. She was a little anxious about starting school in September.
       The puffy tail of the White Squirrel brushed lightly against Jasmine’s ear. Startled, Jasmine looked up. The squirrel had something round and shiny between its teeth.
       On his way back from the house, Mathew stomped threateningly toward the squirrel. A few drops of orange juice spilled onto his knee, but he didn’t notice. The White Squirrel glared at him and ran off. Jasmine followed.
       “What’s so special about that squirrel? Why doesn’t Jasmine want to play with my tractor? It’s so much more fun”, thought Mathew and sat on the grass to drink his juice in peace. But each time he’d take a sip, he’d feel a slight tickling on his knee. Finally, he looked down – there was a group of ants on his knee. They were having their own juice time.
       “Ha, stupid ants!” He shook the ants off his leg.
       The White Squirrel stopped suddenly, looked Jasmine in the eyes, put the shiny round object on the ground and zipped out of sight. Hesitantly, Jasmine approached the object.
       “But it’s only a hazelnut!”, exclaimed she and picked it up.
       “Wait a minute! There is no hazel tree around here! This must be a magic nut after all.” And she put the hazel in her pocket.
       Before going to bed, Jasmine wanted to practice the exercise she had last learnt from her piano teacher. She sat at the piano, but soon after the first notes, she swayed into a wild musical improvisation, hitting notes almost haphazardly, but with the passion fit for a great performer. She imagined she was flying up above the piano, through the ceiling and into the attic. Then she flew even further, through the roof and above the trees, higher and higher, then back to the trees, zooming through the foliage onto lit up windows, swishing by houses and fences, then up again…
       “Jasmine! Knock this noise off! Either practice your piece or go to bed!”
       Her dad didn’t even move his eyes from the computer as he said that. Her mom was listening to music on her headphones and doing her dance routine in front of the big living room mirror. Mathew was playing with his tractor again.
       “What’s so special about this tractor anyway? My brother’s such a bore!” thought Jasmine, but said to her dad:
       “This is not noise. It’s my latest composition about… flying and houses.”
       Her dad didn’t say anything. He was away, back to his virtual reality.
       Jasmine ran off to her room. She took the magic hazelnut out of her pocket and put it on the windowsill.
       Suddenly, a ray of moonlight fell on the hazelnut and voila – it turned golden! Jasmine gasped. It still shone brightly through the fingers of her clasped hand as she held it tightly, afraid it may vanish in thin air. When she opened her fist, the hazelnut started flashing out like a light signaling a coasting ship. Slowly, the Great Castle Jasmine had seen in one of her daily visions materialized in the distance. The White Squirrel had in the meantime arrived at Jasmine’s window and spoke in human voice:
       “Jasmine, do you want to go to the castle?”
       “Yes, I do! I really, really do! But I can’t, in this plane nightgown…”
       “Oh, don’t worry about your outfit.” And the squirrel winked emphatically.
       Suddenly, Jasmine’s nightgown turned into a beautiful dress made of the lightest pearl taffeta and embroidered with real gemstones that shone like stars around her neck.
       “Wow!” exclaimed Jasmine and turned around three times. “I look prettier than I did at my community recital. Could I play the piano at the castle?”
       “Of course, you could!”
       “Oh, but how are we getting there. Sure, my parents won’t let me go out at this time of night.”
       “Don’t worry about your parents. Look, they will think you are sleeping.” Indeed, when Jasmine looked at her bed, there seemed to be another Jasmine, still in her plain nightgown, asleep in her bed.
       “Awesome!”
       “Now, get on my back!”
       “But… I’m too big…” Suddenly, the squirrel grew to the size of a pony or may be Jasmine shrunk down to the squirrel’s size. She didn’t care, she was so excited that she didn’t even notice when she climbed the squirrel. Off they went like a lightning, through the trees and backyards and straight at the shining gates of the Great Castle.
       “Stop right there!” An enormous ant-guard put up her armour and looked Jasmine strictly in the eye. “Who are you? What do you want? What number can you count to?”
       “My name is Jasmine and I can count to 100.”
       “There is no such number, all numbers end in 99. Haven’t you seen the price tags?”
       “Yes, madam, I’ve seen them, but I still can’t read them! I’m only starting school in September.”
       “In September? How many months are left until then?”
       “I believe there are four months left, madam!”
       “You believe? I distinctly remember you were not sure in the afternoon. Besides, there is no such number as 4.”
       “I beg to disagree, madam! If that were true then there would not be such a thing as a month.”
       “Hm,” pondered the ant-guard. “You didn’t answer my second question. What do you want?”
       “I want to be the princess of this castle!” shouted out Jasmine and shut up startled at her own unexpected boldness. She awaited the verdict of the strict ant with a trembling heart. Never in her life had Jasmine been so cheeky.
       “You’re not cheeky,” said the ant-guard. “But there is one little problem - there already is a Princess called Jasmine and I suspect her name might be copyrighted.”
       “Copy... what?”
       “Don’t interrupt! Anyway, I believe we could fix this – you could be called Princess Jazzmine, but that means you should be able to play jazz. Can you play a musical instrument? Or, at least sing?”
       “I can play the piano, but I don’t know what jazz is.”
       “Never mind! Come in!”