It was a long, long dream.
It was so long that she thought she would never wake up.
Inside a dark room, the floor was covered with bottle caps and pieces of glass left by broken wine bottles. At one corner of the messy room lay broken vases and a torn picture frame.
The decayed window was covered with withered vines, and the cross window frame was like a tombstone.
Outside the window were children playing and running, but everything outside seemed to have nothing to do with the chaos in the house.
Of course, in this dark whirlpool, there was still something beautiful.
At least, there was the girl sitting at the desk.
That petite, thin body shape was incompatible with everything here. It looked out of place. Her face didn't have too much sadness written on it. There was reassuring tranquility in her sapphire eyes, as if everything here had nothing to do with her, and her whole body was immersed in the slightly yellowed book in her hand.
