Oh how she marveled on her spot. The pedestal was a place she only used to dream of. And now, it was her time to be her own paramount, her own reality. She worked so hard to reach this. She went through restless nights, melancholic solitude and agonistic moments. But now, up here in the pedestal where she can take a glimpse of the whole world and its wonders, everything has condensed into a shapeless mass of nothingness.
Staring hard into oblivion, she blinks and fights the tears back. She has never felt this emptiness. How could she have misread the signs? Why did her intuitions deceive her? Why did she have to come here thinking that this was the response to her longing for perpetual bliss?
Slowly, she begins to crumble. Everything around her seems to be revolving. It suddenly becomes pitch-black. With a thud, she falls to her feet.
She wakes up from the icy pang of the floor. Her throat dry, her heart weary and miserable. She now understands that she doesn't belong here.
This wasn't her quest. It is not too late to go back and start anew. She has reached the turning point.
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