A/N: This was started at 3am... and ended at 5am... Now, I'm seriously sleepy... Whoever guesses the title of the book read by the character in this story gets a cookie. :3

She picked up the four packs of sleeping pills from her bedside table. Instead of crushing them and mixing them with water, she decided to take them one by one, because there is always a gap between intention and action, and she wanted to feel free to turn back half way. However, with each pill she swallowed, she felt more convinced: after five minutes the packs were empty.

Tired eyes ran over blurring words before they finally gave up and shifted their attention to the dark, cloudy horizon outside the window. A tired exhale escaped her lips as she closed the book and placed it on the vacant seat beside her. Shifting to a more comfortable position, she allowed her seat to lean backwards as she prepared to rest for the remainder of the flight.

The past few days had been hectic with hours spent in the cold Parisian air; donning only measly fabrics that kept her inwardly shivering against the ghastly winds. The hours in the cold were grueling and yet, she maintained a summery grin that delighted people around her. The following minutes that ticked by were spent sitting stiff on front row seats of runways that showcased the latest trends on garments designed by houses that spoke of the ideal wear and glamour. Such were her previous days. Long gone and memorable, yet internally never missed.

She was a victim of time; a pawn dragged into a world that masked the harsh realities with embellishments of gold, silver, and diamonds. And it made her want to mimic that character she had read before she closed the paperback now keeping her company. But to her dismay, there were no packs of sleeping pills at hand or things that could help her bring about a lovely end.

And so, she sat there, watching the clouds that her plane passed by; quietly observing the darkening horizon that replaced the once brightly-lit skies. It made her feel claustrophobic; suffocated and yet, it amazed her at how time had passed. Unconsciously, her mind decided to ruminate on her past as she sat there quietly, cheek resting on a hand, eyes on the horizon.

Before her current state – a recovering soul in the aftermath of a struggle she had made – she was a stoic girl that had made herself impervious. She was brave, powerful, and sharp. She never failed to speak her thoughts, despite their attempts at restraining her. They gave up, eventually, conceding to her insistence with an agreement that she would at least try to show some semblance of humanity.

For them, humanity was emotion. And to her, showing such to the public was a distortion and disruption to her essence. She considered it priceless and had reserved it only to a select few. Showing emotions was, to her, a weakness. And she disliked being seen as a coward. It was a paradox to her built image.

Her years under the tutelage of a huge organization were a time of suffering and uncertainty. The bruises, the cuts, the tears, the blood, and the sweat were gone, but the memories were as fresh as a newly opened wound. She remembered the grueling routines they made her practice and the near impossible notes they made her belt as they trapped her in a dull room, void of windows and dimmed of lights. It made her scared, but she never once gave them that luxury of feeling triumphant over taming her wild spirit.

She sighed, shifting her gaze from outside the plane’s window and pulling the shutter down. Those were of the past and were meant to be forgotten or abandoned. She needed not those burdens anymore. She had moved on to greener pastures and new challenges. She had trudged forward, only to face a different kind of restraint.

Endless flights to foreign lands made her exceptionally lost and tired. Meeting unfamiliar faces was not new to her, but these current endeavors alienated her. New routines soon took over her life and she felt like she was being washed away in the rapids; helpless, cold, and exhausted. The events she took part in, grew strange and she found herself alone among multitudes.

She was as alone as she could ever be; even more so now than she ever had been.

The feeling was depressing.

It gnawed at her deep inside.

Eyes landed back on the blue paperback resting quietly on the vacant seat beside her. The front cover looked as sullen and down-trodden as her current mood. It depicted a silhouette of a woman walking