Her vision was dark; almost a luminescent black capturing the silenced room. She tried to add color, any color, to her line of sight, but nothing came. It was almost as if she was being blindfolded, a thin layer blocking her eyes from seeing. At least her ears could still hear. They twitched every time a little creak would appear, causing her to be even more frightened. She wished she could just hide away. The black of the room had not given her any source of comfort; it unfortunately only made her more on edge. Bad things happen in the dark, or that's at least what her mother had told her when she was young. It was also that same night when her mother had told her to stay humble and be kind, but that had gotten her no where. She cringed at the thought. She had been here, wherever 'here' was, for so long that she had forgotten what 'day' looked like. She did, however, have an easy time in imagining what Hell looks like. It would be just like this place she had been stuck in. Dark and lonely. A shiver rivered up her spine as she hunched over in her sitting position, wondering which Gate she would be welcomed at when she died. The Gate of Heaven or the Gate of Hell. She had prayed for help over and over, and yet again, she could see it hadn't worked. The door was still locked into place. One of stepsisters was probably living the life she was supposed to have, all because of a glass slipper and the love she had gained for the Prince. At least, every time she woke up, there was a plate of food near her, engulfing her senses. She never could catch the person leaving them. She was surprised her stepmother cared at all. Still, every time she would follow the trail of the smell and find the plate, picking it up, and devouring the food in little time. She was desperate, and for some odd reason, the plate felt like a piece of home outside the locked door was with her. A tear fell from her face and fell into the black space below as she thought of home. She hadn't been anywhere but the room in so long, and the ache her heart was feeling became too overwhelming. She screamed out, wondering how her life could have come to this. Her kind soul was giving out, and she didn't know how much longer her mind could take before she would go lunatic and never remember anything ever again, not even her deceased mother and father. She needed to hold on to the last memories her head could remember, before them too, just like the image of 'day', would be gone forever. She cried for her mother. She cried for her father. She cried for herself. She was giving up, and she could feel her heart slowly begin to let go of the possibility of being saved. Deep in her gut, the tugging feeling of dread washed over her as she curled up to the best of her ability and allowed herself to cry until her eyes were dry, and her heart heavy. This was it. This once light and happy soul that fate had turned to ashes. Small, black ashes. She just wanted to be free. But hope was too heavy to hold onto.