She slams the door shut! She has had enough of the world and its cruelties! She goes to find it, her escape, her happiness and her euphoric high. She desperately rummages through her things for her relief. She finally finds it. A tattered old book, pages yellowing with age. She smiles when she finds it. Her nerves calm down and then she gets lost, lost within its pages.She lives vicariously through the characters,forgetting all about what just happened. She forgets about the cruel world with all its evilness and just for a while she gets to be a person who can kick ass. She gets to do whatever she wants. She is no longer bound by society’s expectations. She doesn’t have to conform to their parochial views. Her mind freely explores the universe written in ink.
She enters the characters' universe and breathes their air, feels their frustrations and even shouts at them to stop when they are about to do something stupid. They show her how to be herself and the meaning of life and friendship. Books gave her pleasure, security and friendship when all seemed dark in the world. Books were her beacons of hope when all the purposes in life seemed lost. They guided her through the worst times in her life and gave her strength to fall back on and pick herself up whenever she fell down. Books revived her hope and fuelled her imagination. She knew the power of books. She knew that it could lift sunken spirits and show that the horizon the eye sets as a limit might not be the point where the world recedes. The ink spoke to her in volumes, giving her courage to carry on with life and to face difficulties. The ink invites her to get lost in it and so she does.