She ascended the stairs to her den of darkness. Slowly, one step at a time, the centuries-old wood groaning under the weight of her every step, she made her way to her place of hiding. A room she both loved and feared, full of good and bad memories. She was sick of it, but there she would retreat.
When life threw the unexpected and the hard to swallow, she would sit up late nights with pen and paper weaving tapestries portraying glimpses into the vast universes trapped in her mind. She could not fathom the depth of which these fantasies contained. Day and night she never stopped dreaming, the world filtered through her own version of reality. They helped her to keep a shred of sanity, to move forward when life felt meaningless. In the alternate realities she had created, she was so important that the entire world would die without her.
Everyone depended on her for survival. Everyone loved and feared her. She was truly powerful. She wanted to continue this dreaming forever, so one day she opened the window and sent some of her best work to be consumed by the world. And now that you’re reading it, was it worth your time? Was it worth mine? Do you know what it’s like never feeling good enough, never being fully realized? Are you living up to your full potential?