Once there was a child who thought she’d die before she reaches legality. She was afraid of responsibilities. She was afraid to grow up. She was living the life of a child and she did not want to leave Neverland. She thought she will stay there but she was wrong.
Even as a child she saw the world beyond the paradise portrayed by fiction. She saw what others brought to her life. She eventually knew things she was not yet supposed to know. It was as if the universe was a book but with a tragic plot.
It was not a book written for her but she still read it. She never thought she’ll get that far. So far that she cannot stop reading even she really wanted to. It was too late to close the book. She was already living the life that she was not supposed to be living.
She accepted the fact that her life was not a game that cannot be paused. One can never quit once it started. One cannot restart if anything fucks up. One cannot change the settings to the easier mode because it’s life and life’s hard. No one can complain about it. And even if you did, you cannot do anything about it.
She lived for 18 whole years, trying to be someone she was not. She reached legality but her soul did not. She lived but she was already dead inside.