Lonely Castle

In a shadowy corner of London, there once lived a young boy by the name of Garrick, his father Ray and his mother Summer. On the outside, they looked like any other ordinary family and yet beneath the surface lay a tapestry of secrets. Ray, a devoted husband and father, toiled all day in a spire of steel and glass that pierced the sky. As the day waned and the sun slipped beneath the horizon, he'd always returned home, just in time for dinner. And after every meal, Ray would transform into a jovial playmate for Garrick, or Rick as he was more affectionately called, engaging in any game or activity his heart so desired, until the call of night claimed him. Summer, a once bright and engaging travel writer born and raised in Korea , had morphed into a celebrated children’s author. Her words, which had once danced with joy, now whispered of dread and foreboding. Summer James-Park, had become ensnared in a web of depression, haunted by the oppressive expectations of her Korean father. A burden she'd fled by marrying Ray, who, by a twist of fate, had insisted he fill her place within the family business. Each night, as Garrick and Ray lost themselves in laughter and play, Summer escaped to the quiet sanctuary of their bathroom. There, she'd run the shower until the steam fogged around her, and the scalding water seared away her fears. In the cocoon of mist and heat, she'd crouch beneath the water, clutching her knees, and allow the tears she silently sobbed to drift away. For so long had this been her nightly ritual, the memories of life before Garrick, her job and oppressive marriage, had faded into the background of her mind. So long had she been trapped in her lonely castle, where she’d whispered secrets into the night.