So shy and reserved, she'd always been this way. Her parents tried to make her join in more, but the more they pushed her, the more introvert she became.
She lived happily in her own world with her own thoughts, why would she become a part of the real one?
She lived vicariously through the characters in her books. She travelled, loved and grieved with them. Her books were her friends, they would never let her down. She knew that after a bad day they would be waiting for her, they would comfort her and make her feel better.
She lived alone in the eyes of many, but in her eyes she lived with all her friends. Her books. Her cozy flat was packed full of them, with her drawings hanging on the walls. Drawings of what she imagined each place to be like, what each character looked like.
In many eyes she was sad and alone, in hers she was surrounded by love and as happy as can be.
She lived happily in her own world with her own thoughts, why would she become a part of the real one?
She lived vicariously through the characters in her books. She travelled, loved and grieved with them. Her books were her friends, they would never let her down. She knew that after a bad day they would be waiting for her, they would comfort her and make her feel better.
She lived alone in the eyes of many, but in her eyes she lived with all her friends. Her books. Her cozy flat was packed full of them, with her drawings hanging on the walls. Drawings of what she imagined each place to be like, what each character looked like.
In many eyes she was sad and alone, in hers she was surrounded by love and as happy as can be.
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