She was gracefully born without a mouth. Her first year, she spoke of existence and the beauty of where she had just resided. She mastered the art of twisting and hiding this year. An art that would never get her anywhere.

As she grew older, she learned how to communicate. Her twisting and inability to speak made this a difficult task. She spoke with her actions, but her body moved less than her mouth did. Maybe that's why she never got the chance to know so many people.

One morning, she fell into a trap. A trap that had been set out for her since the day she was born. She spent her time gathering and observing in this tiny new world. She found early Christmas gifts, ancient jewelry, clothes that weren't her size, and enough words to compensate for the last 18 years. She spent the next 50 trying to figure out how to use them.

The day she stopped trying, she found her mouth.
The mouth that had been missing since the day she was born.

She found her mouth and now, now she was dead.