[Entry: May 18, 2020 — Night (8:31 PM) Wednesday

Struggling has been a part of our daily lives. We're all slaves for something; some were slaves for money, for power, for ambitions, for fame… for dreams.

A never-ending cycle of trying and failing. Sometimes, after pouring our heart and soul, we succeed.

But even after that, we still try to keep the momentum.

What does success even mean?

They said rich people are successful. But why do they keep trying to earn more? Why do successful authors write more if they've proven themselves?

Why do superstars have to do their best in their films if the previous one was a hit? Why do politicians have to keep maintaining their image?

Are they truly successful? Or… are they still slaves for greater heights?

Perhaps it was greed that bound them on a tighter leash?

A leash that]

"Ugh…!" Devon let out a groan as her fingers curled, brushing the keyboard with gentle strokes. "A leash that..."

No matter how hard she tried, her mind just didn't work. She couldn't continue writing her personal memo.

"Maybe I'm just tired…?" she muttered, her eyes feeling heavy for a while already. She pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, trying to give them some rest. 

It wasn't her first time to pull an all-nighter as a writer, but maybe she overdid it this time. After a few minutes, she glanced at the time and finally snapped back to reality. 

"His plane probably landed. I should start prepping before he comes," Devon murmured as she stretched her arms, releasing a soft moan. There was not a bit of excitement in her lifeless eyes. 

She lifted herself, only to stagger while her eyesight darkened. Her stomach saw nothing but coffee that day, which made her weaker than a squirrel. 

"I should eat something before sleep…" Devon decided as she glanced at her bed. Being sleep-deprived made her sleep at peace with him. 

Sleeping and sharing a bed with a stranger. What an odd side job. But that odd side job paid her bills and allowed her to pursue her career. 

One step… 

Two… 

Three… 

Four… 

It only took her four footsteps when Devon's eyes blurred again. She couldn't even react before she fainted, and her body collapsed on the floor with her head crashing into the bed frame. 

The moon that glowed through the open window radiated on her—bringing an odd glimmer on the blood cascading from her head. 

**** 

In a private chamber of a castle… 

"They had publicly executed His Highness, and the enemy had conquered the north. You must flee at once, Your Highness. The enemy would soon come to behead you." 

A maidservant knelt on the concrete floor. She looked up at the woman standing by the open window. Despite the terrible news, Her Highness let out a subtle smile. 

"I understand," the Princess acknowledged as she suggested calmly, "you should flee. By dawn, the enemies will reach the major cities and this castle."

"But… What about your Highness?" 

"There's no place to run," Princess replied, as she stared at the full moon. "Even if I flee, I'd be living in hiding and fear. How is that living?" 

Before her attendant could argue, the princess added, "He's dead, and I'm finally free. I'll leave the mourning to his other wives." 

She placed her palm on the side of the window and climbed it, wind blowing through her hair. 

"Please. Don't do it, Your Highness! We can escape together!" 

"Live well, my dear," the Princess wished with a smile and spread her arms, letting the wind wrap around her body. 

"I'm free." 

The last words of her Highness caused the Maidservant to shudder. It was too late to stop her. All she heard was a loud thud before seeing her blood pooling around her. 

The moon that the Princess always adored shone brightly, bringing an odd glint on the blood. 

The Princess thought she would finally be free, but it was just the beginning.