She was a quiet girl, one who stitched her mouth shut and kept her voice under lock and key. She never asked for anything, and nobody asked her for anything in return. She was left alone, and she liked it that way. As fate would have it, she one day found herself on the top of the world. Voices bombarded her head and demanded her to take control. At first she was uncomfortable, then displeased, then annoyed. She ripped the stitches from her lips and tore the lock from her voice, and screamed. The Earth split into pieces and the ocean stood still with shock. She was knocked to the ground and lay there, panting and shaking. With bloody palms and bruised knees, she pushed herself to her feet and wore her new power like a halo. Almighty and strength unwavering, she wore blood-colored lipstick over the scars where her stitches had been and destroyed the lock that guarded her voice.