The little girl stares down at a blank paper. A homework essay for a grade 4 student seems whimsical for most people, as some of her classmates start writing down a first draft right before the bell rings. It is almost the end of the school day, and student start packing up their stuff before heading out.

The teacher started collecting answer sheets from everyone, stopping at the little girl's table at the back. She remains silent, her hand trembling with a paper in her hand. Her eyes roll around like a pinball until the teacher knocks the table to awaken her.

“Are you all right, Mint?” Her soft, loud voice woke the girl up from her world.

“N… Uh… Yes (Deep sight), I’m fine. Here is the answer sheet.”

“You seem a bit lost with today’s class. Are you alright?”

She takes the paper and stares at the little pupil with a worried expression.

“Mint is always like this, Ms. Quinnzel. She has been daydreaming about life in the kingdom with a charming prince, ha ha ha.”

The student in front of her giggles as they look at her, then walks out of the classroom.

“Is it true, Mint?”

“Not really, I just didn’t get enough sleep. I am fine.”

Ms. Quinnzel sensed that something was off about her student, who had dark circles under her eyes and behaved oddly throughout the class. Still, she takes her student’s words, even though she has a bad feeling about it.

“Try to get enough sleep. You have missed multiple classes this semester. You will not pass the exam if you miss out anymore. Understand?”

“Yes, I will try not to miss any more classes.”

She nods to her teacher before packing her bags and walking out with a couple of her friends. No one in the classroom really knows what she likes when she steps outside the school. She always has different people come pick her up: an older man in a black suit, a youngster with brand-name sneakers, or a chubby woman in an apron. The school has tried to contact the actual guardian multiple times to discuss her studies, but they have not been able to reach them. The school gave up hope for her; they let her study to keep another kid off the streets again.

Somehow, the deadline for the essay homework has been approaching. Everyone hands out the paper to Ms. Quinnzel before leaving for the upcoming holiday. As the teacher packs everyone’s paper into a folder, Mint walks up to her with a wrinkled paper in hand.

“Ms. Quinnzel. Am I allowed to dream?”

“Hm, why do you think you can’t dream, my dear?”

“My parent told me that dreams are for delusional people with weak bodies. They said I should only focus on my studies so that I can eat.”

The teacher stunk with the twisted, painful answer from her student. She did not expect the pain of a child being unveiled bit by bit in front of her.

“Mint, I noticed your studies have been behind most of your classmates. Is there anything I need to know to help you? It doesn’t have to be academic-related.”

Ms. Quinnzel looked down toward the face hidden behind the bag and glass. She felt a slight goosebump as she noticed a cut on her student's face with a purple bruise near her ear.

“Did someone try to harm you in any way, Mint?”

She tries to touch her face, but Mint steps back and looks up at the teacher's face.

“I don’t know the importance of this homework, what makes dreams so special, and whether it can be given like a birthday wish? I don’t really know the answer.”

Her tears started to flow down from her left eye. A droplet makes a mark on folded paper. Her emotions overflowed, her eyes red and her body shaken like a washing machine.

“Dreams are for everyone. Dreams are meant to be a force that drives us into the future we hope for.”

The little girl turned her face up to her teacher, who gave her a gentle smile while crossing her arms loosely.

“Teaching you is part of my dream since high school. And I work hard for it so I can teach you nowadays. Not everyone can follow their dream to the end, but at the very least, they can live the happy life they dreamed of. It will not look perfect in others' eyes, yet it will always be perfect with you satisfied with it.”

She tilted her head to the other side, then patted her student’s shoulder as a cheer-up gesture.

“If you felt like you were not ready to submit the paper, that's okay. You can hand it in on Monday. I won’t deduct your score. How does that sound?”

“Thank you very much, teacher.”

She nods to her teacher. Ms. Quinnzel gives Mint her personal number in case of a distress situation she would like to discuss. The girl walks out of the classroom, looking back at her teacher at the table. She puts a smile on her face to her teacher, a smile of a broken soul with a tiny seed of hope implanted inside.

The holiday has arrived. Ms Quinzzel received an anonymous call one day. It was from the detective, who had requested that she come to the hospital immediately. Before she could react, her eye caught sight of a flash news report on television: A horrendous screen of an unidentified dead girl hanging from the third-floor apartment. The killer is a heartless stepfather, using electrical wiring to tangle the girl. The slut mother became a maniac with multiple skin burns on her body, claiming her daughter had gone mad, and her husband had done nothing wrong.

Ms. Quinnzel rushed to the hospital and met with Mr. Detective. He briefly explained that he found this paper with her phone number on it and would like her to identify whether it is her student.

As soon as she sees the cadaver on the metal bed in the hospital morgue, she collapses with tears bursting out as the little girl who promised to submit her homework on Monday is no longer alive.

After an hour of the darkest day in her career had passed, the detective handed her a piece of paper in a sealed, evident plastic bag. It is homework she meant to submit to her next Monday, and it is written like this.

“If I could dream, I would dream of a big sword with ambitious power, protecting me from the evil man who ever steps out of mothers room.

I dream of a sharp-witted lawyer who would give me freedom from the cruelty of a two-tongued woman with smelly breath.

Lastly, I dream of living happily in a small house with a shop in front of the school, so I can go to study and support myself while enjoying my time with friends in Ms. Quinnzel's class.

And that is my dream. My dream for a life out of reach.”

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