She woke up to these rough white, stucco-textured walls every morning.

Every day became a dreadful routine and her tolerance outside of these white walls began to dwindle over time.

She dealt with the same old people, assignments, and labor every day.

Dedication. Motivation. Determination.

Gone.

Every single waking moment became a struggle for the poor, young girl.

Although she was young, she looked as if she had been alive for at least five decades now.

The bags under her eyes, the minute wrinkle lines forming upon the curves of her insincere smile, the somber truth hidden deep within her pupils.

 She was tired.

A/N: There is more to come.