She knows and is convinced that she’s not the only one with a slow soft voice, living inside her, whispering so loud, she frowned at her own thoughts. Every day, the volume of the voice intensifying much like the universe expanding at every millisecond the dead clocks around the world didn't count. Like a star at the end of its life bursting and boomed into small stones and the explosive impact pushes the unknown planets away from their course, her thoughts, they're cancerous, dominating each living cell of her body to cooperate, to collapse without her consent. And she is falling apart so quietly. All the things possible, she told everyone it won’t work. And she makes sure it won’t work. No one had a chance even before their crossing path people call destiny. The reminiscent of meteorites to a black hole the Hubble telescopes missed to capture, she is trapped around her immense thoughts. A happy day is 1261 years light away, and she’s still waiting for the brightness for she is stuck in the misty dusk. All the things about her life that she hates , most people will find to despise, she hugged them twice harder to love them. It’s when they hugged her back; she realizes that 5 minutes wait is all everyone needs to be sane. She found an old tree no one cared for hundreds of years and she sat there, and every passerby told each other that she told them this- believe in the good things. And so they did. Even when you found out that Prior of Sion is a a made-up secret society didn’t you still find it believable?
There a lonely unseen star in its own place believing that there’s hope for a brighter sunny day tomorrow. And so yes, she believes that.
After all, didn't Shakespeare say this? That –
“…you shall shine more bright in these contents“
She didn't read the next lines. She believes.