Third Person’s POV 

Seated side by side in the classroom, Winter's mind drifted beyond the pages of the textbooks, she’s lost in her daydreams. At the same time, Karina observed with captivation, intrigued by the mystery in her seatmate's distant gaze. 

Amidst the ambient sounds of lessons, their shared space became a silent dialogue between Winter's imagination and Karina's keen observation. Winter, lost in mental landscapes, remained oblivious to the fascinated scrutiny beside her. 

In that precise moment, the classroom transformed into a canvas where the unspoken connection between Winter and Karina unfolded—a subtle interplay of connection.

 

"Winter, it's your turn. Please read the next paragraph." the instructor said. 

Winter, lost in daydreams, blinks in confusion.

"Hey, it's your turn. It’s the fourth paragraph.” Karina nudged Winter gently.

Winter, snapping out of her thoughts "Oh, right. Thanks."

After class, the classroom swirls with conversations and waves of waves of laughter, but for Winter, it's a maze she can't navigate. People, with their social symphony, truly elude her understanding. 

Karina, a burst of warmth in this sea of faces, has kindness and softness that makes her adored by everyone, in contrast to Winter, who can't deal with people around her because of the walls she has built. She only finds comfort in her writing, seeking solace in the words she puts on paper.

Winter’s POV 

Tonight, in the vast realm of a writing platform, I  found my novel subjected to a barrage of online criticism. Faceless voices wielded words like weapons, turning my once serene writing haven into a battlefield of negativity. 

Each derogatory comment felt like a personal blow, leaving me grappling with self-doubt about my creative expression.

"This novel is a disgrace! Why glorify a relationship that goes against our traditional values? Such a disgrace!"   "What a waste of words! Nobody wants to read about unnatural, and abnormal relationships between girls. Get a grip on reality!"   "I can't believe people support this garbage. It's not literature; it's an insult to morality and decency."   "Why romanticize something so wrong? This author is just trying to be controversial for attention. Pathetic!"

 

My chest tightened, and the storm of criticism engulfed me, leaving me gasping for air.

At that moment, the sanctuary of my creativity transformed into a suffocating space.

This is life, not everyone will accept and understand same- relationships, and the novel I expressively write. Not everyone will accept a person like me.

 

After my panic attack, my only friend Ning called. 

Ning: Hey Win, I just saw about the comments on your novel. How are you?

Winter: I’m good Ning, don’t worry about it. I'm actually thinking about getting rid of the hard copy I have in my locker.

Ning: The physical copy too? Why?

Winter: Yeah, the main reason why wrote that novel, was simply for my own satisfaction. So I want it to disappear like I had never written it. I'm thinking of disposing of it or maybe even burning it.

Ning: Winter, I know it's been rough, and I’m here for you…. Yeah?

Winter: I know Ning don’t worry hmm, goodnight my good friend

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