Finding a stranger praising another author, holding a letter which certainly would have lines complementing the wonderful work of that author, the moment of that night when two sparkling eyes were looking at the envelope with a wish that the owner also knew wouldn't come true any time soon, at least not with the speed she was writing with. Seeing a boy talking sincerely and earnestly about an author, the instant, that anonymous author became the luckiest person on earth in her eyes. Had she knew that she was that author, she would never use the word lucky for herself. She was grateful for all the things she had in her life, the void, however, could never be filled. Her gone parents.