My childhood? ... oh what a thing to think about. A word to describe it? I think ... quiet. Oh? No. I wouldn't describe it as happy. Not happy at all. I lived with my sister and my parents. My parents were ... interesting. Two demigods together for power. Love wasn't something we saw much in the home. I learned a lot from my parents, but not the things I needed. They taught me how to play the piano, the violin, how to speak all these different languages. I remember it so vividly. "Pandora! If you are to be a goddess you must know these things!" They always scolded me. Hah. Some goddess I became ... Oh, my sister? She was alright. Same as I, she was adopted. But she didn't come from the same background. She never had powers like I. My parents never cared for her as much. Or they cared more. I could never quite tell. Huh? How the hell would I know? Go ask her those damn questions if you want to know! You really expect me to know how she felt? Isn't this my interview? About my life? ... I'm sorry. There was no reason for that ... I think maybe we should move on for now. We can come back to this later ...

Why do I call these the good days? ... I ... because they were the days before I knew of the real world. I was sheltered. No, I wasn't happy, but I wasn't scarred and broken either. I wasn't running for my life, I wasn't hiding. I see your expression, we'll get back to that later. To be honest with you, I've never really had "good days." I was born in misery, raised in misery, and survive in misery. Does that answer your question?