She knelt alone in the tower, crumpled like a forgotten flower. There was no escaping this time. She’d always felt like she was living in a prison, but her home hadn’t actually been one, just a little cottage in the woods, surrounded by bees and butterflies and great, majestic trees. Sunlight had filtered through the leaves to cast dappled shadows on the forest floor, and in a shady corner was tucked a little well. She’d loved that well. She’d lie by it when she was small and whisper wishes into the crystal depths, wishes for freedom and friendship and love. Wishes that she could live like normal girls–whatever that was like. She went there to cry sometimes, when the loneliness became unbearable, wet the ground with her tears. Now it was gone–or, no, it was still there. She was the one who was gone. She felt like she was withering. She knew it was for her own safety–she knew it was dangerous–but was it really any better to be locked in a tower? Alone, lonely, and forgotten? She’d never get out now. Once upon a time, she’d believed that she could wish her worries away. She’d given up wishing. Forever.
based on the song "25 years" by blackmore's night 200 words
