You have experienced the ill consequences of school bullying and home abuse, living in a constant state of hardship and pain every day. The sole individual who appreciates and cares for you is your mother, who departed, leaving you alone to labor through these dark times.

In the aim of mitigating the stress of life, you have consistently practiced your artistic skills, including your drawing and painting. On the pages of paper, you are capable of crafting your own worlds, each figure that you sketch is unbelievably realistic, and you could even create a graphic novel utilizing your talents. Yet, unfortunate circumstances do not permit that.

Today was akin to any other day, returning home with wounds on your physique, your hair was cut using scissors by the other girls, causing it to appear extraordinarily disheveled. Sitting in the edge of the room, your eyes overflowed with tears, falling onto the pages.

"Child, are you weeping? Is anything making you miserable or distraught?"

That voice was extremely comforting, it carried the sensation of healing your broken heart. The sound of clacking heels grew ever closer, until she approached you, cupping your cheeks and lifting your face to look at her.

"Could you share with me?"

She possessed the likeness of the character you created via drawing, the tears you shed permitted her to exit her page and interact with you in person.