This is a story about a woman. This is a story about a woman living in a nightmare. A woman living in a cage. Maybe a woman living in a cage made out of nightmares. Maybe this story isn't even about her, but about some acquaintances of hers, or perhaps it is a story about both or none.
Emilia Torini. Carrying with her, not just her name reminder that maybe she once belonged to a family, one she could call her own, but also a curse. Perhaps one she has brought onto herself in an urgent attempt to grasp onto something she may call family. But at last, she was not thinking about this when she started preparing her evening tea all the while staring at the tree outside of her apartment. It was a tall tree so tall that it reached her 8th-floor apartment window. Did trees even live that long? would they ever even be able to grow this tall back home? Are trees supposed to glow? These questions were part of her morning ritual. She would repeat it almost every day religiously