Her adventures, though driven by the pain she felt, were filled with such joy and childlike wonder. A beautiful paradox. She had been exposed to the harsh reality of the world from such a young age. Her peers could never know or understand. She’d watch the innocent play of children who were of similar years to her; yet she felt herself to be much older. Perhaps that is why she always felt so lonely, despite her many friends. It was the great burden of truth she carried that was her isolation. Yet it was the very experience of her heartache that enabled her to truly know the depth and beauty of her joy.
Would she wallow, helpless against the enemies, or use such truth as a dangerous weapon? Her eyes had been opened. Now that she had seen, she felt responsible. She knew what she had to do. She was overwhelmed with excitement and expectation, which drowned out the whispers of doubt. She started on the adventure, not knowing where it would take her. Hope was her sustenance, and pain was her power.