Furiously her hand moved across the page, leading her pen in a dance of quick pace. It spilled out the words she was afraid to say and joined them together brick by brick. On these pages she was everyone, a queen, a lover, a simple maiden. If she could write it she would be it, an escape from realities cruel grasp.

Back and forth the pen flew across the ink filled page as she ignored the ticking clock and movement of fellow students rushing to class. None of it mattered not while her focus remained on the book resting carefully upon her pale legs.

This was who she was. The girl who loved to write away her sorrows. The girl that created dreams on a blank page. Magic in the form of words flowed through her veins, quickly she learned to control it, embrace it. Free from fears that once consumed her.