Scared and alone, she sat on the cold tile floor, face in her hands. So young and fragile, so easily broken into pieces. She cried, locked away from all eyes, afraid someone might hear, but too broken to hold it in any longer.
Just a shell, long dark hair, puffy eyes from the silent crying.
"We have to kill her." Said the voice in her head. Surely, it wanted her dead.
She picked and poked and pulled at her skin, perhaps trying to find something new? Trying to escape what she already knew?
She wiped her tears, and walked out the door, putting on another mask, confused by who she was or who she should be.
But one day... something happened.
That meek little girl died, a rather beautiful death. Shed she self from her bones like a caterpillar changing into a butterfly; it was an ugly, gooey, messy process on the inside... but the end results were incredible.
Emerging from the cocoon was this gorgeous creature. They stood tall and mighty with their short hair and dry eyes.
That scared little girl had died, finally at peace. Now, standing in her place, was someone new; someone calm. Or, so them seemed.