Did anyone ever once consider that maybe I actually wanted to prick my finger? That I actually wanted a way out? No, of course not. "You're beautiful", "You're a princess", "She's innocent, naive", they all say, "You have it all." I couldn't have possibly chosen to escape. Well maybe they are the ones who are truly naive. I never asked for this, the royalty, the "perfection", for any of "it all". That needle was my only hope. And as I slept a most peaceful sleep, I dreamt up a fantastical world. A world of my own. It became my home, my reality, where I truly had "it all". All too soon I was ripped from it all, dragged back to the real nightmare, awoken. They think I'm saved, but now I'm more broken than before. For a hundred years of sleep, of my happiness, is miniscule compared to my eternity in this hell.