Soojin had started dreaming.
She couldn't remember the last time she was able to sleep peacefully.
Her mind that bore dreams and stories had run barren at the tender age of 12 after her Father's demise.
After all, he was the one who introduced her to the world of 'make-believe', the world of Fiction and took her innocent unexplored mind to the distant lands of right and wrong, where Princesses were stronger, had the world bowing before them, where they were given equal opportunities, were loved and cherished.
Where being a woman was the biggest boon and never a bane.
She'd stopped venturing into these illusions, where she once was comfortable and happy.
She couldn't remember not feeling like her hands were tied behind her back in shackles that were decorated with thorns around its periphery, piercing her bound wrists, enough to draw blood.
