Pages Of A Book

Prologue

Scribbling.. Scribbling.. Scribbling..

"Jewel~ Whatcha doing again?"

"Nothing.."

"Jewel! I want food!"

"Go get some then, Inna.."

"I'll help her!"

"Okay.."

Thinking.. Scribbling.. Describing..

"It was supposed to be food, Kate!"

"It is food!"

"Why does it taste so baaaad?!"

"Because i made it!"

"Ahh! Jewel! She's gonna poison me! Help!"

"Shut up!"

Scribbling and imagining..

Closing the book..

"Jewel!"

"Coming.."

Placing the book on the shelf..

Smiling..

Running away and down the stairs..

It was books that kept me from taking my own life after i thought i could never love anyone, never be loved by anyone again. It was books that made me feel that perhaps i was not completely alone. They could be honest with you, and i with them. - William Herondale (Clockwork Prince)

Books.. Why are books so important?

Maybe because they help us escape reality..

Maybe because they help us express what we feel..

Maybe because they become our real friends who comforts us..

When we need them..

Maybe because books will never leave you..

Nor will the stories written between their pages..

Maybe because even if they make us cry, they also make us feel complete in the end..

Maybe..

Just maybe..

This is a story..

A story tragically written..

Written someplace where it can exist forever..

Written all over..

In the pages of a book..