An innocent child w bright eyes and full of smiles, full of hope of what tmr may bring. But as she grew up, the smiles faded away, replaced by a constantly washed-out face. The sparks in her eyes mellowed out, often dazed in melancholy.

She realised the world just wasn't as beautiful as she thought, instead it was as cold and harsh like the November wind. She didn't understand why some things happened, no one explained to her. But she couldn't get over them, so she packed them along in her luggage to wherever she goes hoping that someone could give her the answers to those questions.

Everyone thought she was strong and tough, and there was nth that could take her down. But in reality, she cries behind those closed doors when she takes off those masks. She doesn't know how to deal with her emotions and nobody saw her drown. The anger and frustrations mount inside of her, building up walls around her and cutting her off from others. She couldn't forgive herself, was she not good enough? was it her fault? wat did she do to deserve it?

Each time she manages to muster the courage to attempt to climb over those walls, someone pushes her back. Every rejection cost her faith, bcos she tried her best. It was like waves of calamities sweeping over an island that destroyed everything the civilians have built in a snap. All the effort put in was gone in a flash without any warnings. Was it fair at all? But who was to blame?

She clings on desparately to whatever she is left with, not knowing where to start mending, or how long it is going to take to re-build what was destroyed. But she knows she can't allow anyone to take anything from her and she couldn't rely on anyone no more. Thieves are everywhere. Cold, stolen and naked, she hid in a dark corner behind those walls once again and rested her head on her hands. She doesn't know how long she could hold on for in this dangerous world; where she could be free from harm.