95 minutes

She was lying on the bed, continously staring at the ceilling.
She often found herself tangled in her own thoughts.
It was the 12th time the music system was playing that instrumental.
It was one of her favourites but she was so lost that she hardly paid  attention to the music.
Lost in her own thoughts, imagining a world where she was the queen.
A happy world where she could be what she wants to be. She smiled thinking about it.
Her smile suddenly shrinked and a teardrop fell from her eye.
95 minutes ago she received a phone call.
'Pack your stuff, tomorrow morning you are leaving for your studies.' A voice came.
'Dad you know I want to dance.'
'We have talked about it. No more arguements.'
'But I have dreams..' She said in a trembling voice.
'Your dreams are not above my will.'
A dream crushed and its pieces made her heart bleed.
Those wings art gave her were burnt to ashes.
She was drowning, but no hand came to her rescue.
She looked at the fan on the ceiling, imagining herself hanging from it with a smile.
That smile reflecting her peaceful goodbye to the world she never belonged to.
She belonged to her own world where she was free to dream.
It took that gentleman 95 minutes to suffocate her and take away her breathe...