There once was a young girl, whose dreams were bigger than all that she was ever used to. She would wake up full of joy, sing to all the birds and deers in the forest where her small hut was, and daydream her days away. She wanted to do so many things: get out of the small hut! meet her prince! save the dying and the poor! change the world!

But like any other fairytales with similar storyline, she was trapped in the hut by a wicked stepmother.

There was nothing she could do. She was beautiful, but there was no one to see it. She was intelligent, but all she could do was spin imaginative ideas and create an ideal world in her head. She sang wonderfully, but only the animals would know that. She was perfect, but her perfection was trapped in the four walls of her mind and the physical space she was confined to.

And so that was how it was. There was never a prince to rescue her of her miseries, no children accidentally discovering her hut in the deep end of the woods, no miracles, no fairy godmothers.

And she lived happily ever after.

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