Depression struck her again. It was normal of her to feel this way as she was accustomed to the deep, lonely, spiraling feelign that depression gave. Sometimes it had a reason, for most times it was just her feeling blue. Today was just another one of those days filled with hate, sorrow, and self-loathing.

Tiffany came back home from university. Unlike her peers, she didn't stay at a dormitory and would rather retreat to her own house, her abode where she felt safe and comfortable.

But nothing was as safe and comfortable as her room. The place that sounded out all outside contact, that obliterated her existence from the world. It was there where she found solace, peace, and comfort. It was unlike any other. Through this room that she connected with her inner self, with her inner demons, battled her hardest batlles.

This room knew all there was to know about Tiffany.

Dropping her bag on the floor and choosing to lie down instead of work on her schoolwork, Tiffany stared at the ceiling and began to make images in her head. To her, this was something she considered therapy. Being a writer and an artist, Tiffany thought it wise to let her imagination run wild every now and then, get lost in imagination. Right now, she was in the process she liked to call, "Adventure."

Tiffany closed her eyes and allowed her creative mind to take her to places never before discovered.

This time, a grim one was in mind.