From the very beginning of her childhood, she was frail, small and sick. Her immune system wasn’t as developed as her brothers and her mother has expected she wouldn’t make it to eight weeks. This thought was almost true when she ended up getting an upper respiratory infection at the age of 2 months. Everyone expected her to pass from the illness, but somehow she managed to push through.

However, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows for her, as the infection permanently damaged her throat, leaving her mostly unable to speak. When she does try to speak, her voice is very gravely and rough, her words unsure and spotty. However that never stopped her and she learned from a young age how to convey her thoughts and feelings with body language, or not at all. But just because she was okay with what happened to her, didn’t mean everyone else was.

Though her mother and father were always very loving and helpful, they and everyone else never looked at her the same afterwards. The look of pity and curiosity in their gaze became something that she grew to hate, much preferring to slip away into the shadows and watch people from there rather than meet them directly. At least that way they couldn’t look at her like a circus act.