This was too good to be true, they felt.

You accept this light and everything is perfect? Nothing is wrong ever? 

Frankly, nothing ever works out that perfectly, ever.

As night's came and went, she found that sometimes something was telling her that the light wasn't worth it anymore. That the darkness was better than the one light showing in the midnight sky during her dreams.

That voice didn't speak either, but she could hear it. There was something fighting the light. Each time, she had to choose the light.

And when she wouldn't, and she let the dark voice persuade her that the darkness was safer than the pain she has felt from love and fulfillment, when she woke she felt older. She felt colder, and less able to love her neighbors. 

She knew that every night, she would have to choose. She would have to choose the light over the darkness.

And in the morning, her looks would be a reflection of whether that light was accepted in the midst of her sleep.

Her soul shaped everything that she was. She couldn't run away from the truth, for it was revealed every time she looked in the mirror.

No matter what the voice told her and the others in their sleep, the darkness would not satisfy. Only the light would fulfill.