She stood there as her world swirled around in a mishmash of colors and sounds. Nondescript. Unsteady. Nauseating. She was shrinking to the ground, to the size of an ant, and she wondered if she would ever regain the strength to carry weight exponentially heavier than her own. She used to be tireless and brave. But now all she felt was defeated. Utterly and hopelessly defeated. She wondered what happened to her high definition, technicolor life, the humble yet satisfying existence wrought with magesty. Though not the regal, Who Wants to be a Millionaire kind of magesty, but the goofy, Fresh Prince of Bel-Aire kind. The kind with laughter, crazy families, excitement, and the Carlton dance. And she stood there wanting nothing more than the spontaneous desire to bust out like Carlton. But all she could do was stand there...and cry.