There was only blackness for her, at first. She only heard things; things around her in the darkness.
She first learned to see, but she still had much to learn.
Light entered her world. She saw colors; colors that painted the world, which made that world whole.
She was amazed by these colors. She wanted to color the world, too.
She learned how to imitate, coloring herself with all that she found in the world. After that, she colored others. After that, she colored objects. And when there was nothing left to color, she colored her dreams. They were no longer black and white. She dreamed of red fire. She dreamed of blue oceans. She dreamed of green fields. She dreamed color.
For that she was different.
She saw hands; hands that created, hands that made fantasy.
She was amazed by fantasy. She wanted to create, too.
She learned to imagine, creating a story for herself. After that, she created creatures with all that she knew. After that, she created names for them. After that, she created stories for them. And when she realized that she had to find a place to put these creatures she created, she created a world. A world which fantasy was her reality. A world which she was free to do what she wished. A world that connects to other worlds. She created worlds.
For that she was different.
She saw words; words that expressed the deepest of emotions, words that described worlds beyond worlds.
She was amazed by these words. She wanted to describe her world, too.
She learned to write, writing about the creatures that lived in her world. After that, she wrote about their stories. After that, she wrote about her world. And when she realized that there was no more left to write, she wrote about herself. How she learned to see. How she learned to create. How she learned to write. She could describe everything and anything, even the deepest of emotions.
For that she was different.
She heard sounds; sounds that put all to ease, sounds that comforted broken souls.
She was amazed by these sounds. She wanted to comfort others, too.
She learned to sing, singing about the perfect world she had created. After that, she sang about the deepest of the oceans. After that, she sang about mountains that touched the sky. After that, she sand about the shooting stars that trailed across the moon-lit sky. And when she could sing no more, she let those sounds run free. Sounds that put all to ease. Sounds that comforted broken souls. Her songs gave music to the worlds she created.
For that she was different.
And for her difference, she caused envy.
They were jealous. They wanted to color, too. But they knew not how to, for they did not treat the colors as part of their body.
And for her difference, she caused anger.
They were angry. They believed that only god could create a world, for they could not create one, as they did not treat fantasy as their mind.
And for her difference, she caused confusion.
They did not understand. They did not know how words could describe so many, as they did not treat those words as their eyes.
And for her difference, she caused fear.
They were afraid. They knew that all would yield to her when her songs put all to ease, and they could not do the same, as they did not treat music as their soul.
And for her difference… she was punished.
They casted her away, jealous that they could not do something that she could, angry that she dared to create her own world, when only god can create, confused of her words of her thoughts and feelings of her world, and afraid that they could no longer rule with fear, when she put all to ease.
And that was how she learned about cruelty…
She learned that when people found that something held more power than they did… they would only destroy it…
She learned to hide, to hide away from the world, to shut out the sins from her perfect world.
But she also learned how to spread her dreams. Through pictures, through fantasies, through writings and through songs… she spread her dreams.