Once upon a time there was a young girl, who just wished to be in another world, in another world of magic and beautiful beasts and abnormal things, things she had never heard of and things she would only experience in her imagination. To escape her reality, she would dream all day long. Dream about the adventures she would have when she would be older. Older not taller as she was a tiny little girl and in order to forget her little flaws, she would read. Book after book and she imagined herself into these stories, as one of the characters or even a new one. A special one, that was her. So to say in her dreams, she made and thought herself special, when she awoke of those dreams, it was like a fragile bubble popped and she was set into a classroom. The big world, where she felt hopeless and unimportant and all the problems in the world made her feel sad and unhappy. When the books were finished she let the stories live on, fantasize about the dialogues and events happening next. The hero would always win, with his gratefulness, kindness and above all with his skill to use magic. The hero, who almost every time turned out to be a women would swish her wand, crie a spell unknown to the strange eye and win all the hearts. Every good person would be happy and the hero would be celebrated. It was a positive end, always and she had s much will power to turn even the worst und most hopeless situations to a good end. In the real life, the stress she stood under made her miserable and miserable, there weren’t individuals like in her stories, not everyone was equally important and special, not even kind. And so she let her self go, tried to fit into something that wasn’t her, trying to make everyone believe she was something important, when she herself was her biggest critic, it got worse and worse. She would think she wasn’t enough and everyone else was in fact better than her. Until one day and it couldn’t go on like that any more, slowly she noticed how when she thought positive about herself and liked herself for what she was and just let it all out, the people seemed to appreciate her for just that. Not everyone was kind, of course, but she din’t care anymore, because she liked herself in every way possible. She liked herself for her imagination and let her thoughts and fantasy wander limitlessly und unrestrictedly. She appreciated herself for what she could do and not what she couldn’t do. No-one was better that her, no-one was worse, she was a character in her own story and with every force, she tried to turn it around, to free herself from all pressure and limitations society gave her. She decided to live just how she wanted and that she deserved everything and better. She did just what came into her mind and that made her a happy ending.