Just like humans discarding old clothes, the soul discares an old body for a new one.
But for Maya, her soul didn't wait for her body to die and decade, instead it watched her heart be ripped into pieces and chose to leave her, instead, what filled her was a desire of revenge.
The burning flame that burnt her white to the pitch black, leaving behind ashes, so beautiful, that everyone fell in love with them.
For the world, she wrote stories, beautiful ones, as she hid behind them, no one knew what Maya Jaisingh looked like, she was phantom, an illusion, just like her name.
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