I opened my eye groggily. The purple light hurt my eyes, causing me to instinctively shut them tight. I reached for my blanket, only to realize that I’m sleeping on hard ground. I immediately sit straight up. I look around, not recognizing where I am. I start to panic when I wonder where my home is or my family.

Just then something catches my eye, a painting of a symbol. I recognized that painting. I stand up, there was a small, haunted and abandoned village, the ground up neatly put together in stone. Yes, this is exactly like the image I see with my story. My story! Suddenly then I realize where I am, but I don’t know how I got here or how to escape. Maybe I have to just follow along with the story.

Fortunately, I know how to defeat the villain. Unfortunately… I never finished the story or got to that part. I fall back to the ground, it was useless. I’m trapped in my own unfinished story. I should have listened to my grandmother about stories being magical. Is this how an unfinished story feels?