There was once a little girl, she wasn’t a princess, but she wasn’t a peasant. She was a writer. Some called her crazy, said her ideals meant nothing. She knew that couldn’t stand, she knew she wouldn’t let it. So she stood up from the ground and said it prominently, “I am a writer!” She shout out to all of those who saw her significance in the world.
One day this little girl, was simply little no more. Then another little girl, popped up at her door. Asking for something more, but the girl whom was little no more couldn’t understand, so she said, “I’m sorry”, and shut the door. That obstinate little girl only knocked again, for she wanted a greater grasp of intelligence to fill her head, she wanted to understand what it was like to have the world at your hands.
The little girl whom was little no more couldn’t understand, it had been such a long time since she had wanted that, since she had seen, since she had felt, since she had grieved, since she had had the world at her hands. She then realized why it was beyond her to understand. Why she couldn’t do it justice. Why her brain would fill no more. It was because she had lost all hope.
She made her story seem bleak, made it so sad, but once again she saw what she saw in the past. She saw a place that desired guidance so that is what she gave them, although it was the little girl who knocked on her door that started this, she was never brought in. She did not have the chance of the little girl whom was little no more. So, she stayed a little girl, until suddenly someone knocked at her door.
She sneaked a glimpse out the door and said, “hello?” When no one answered she proposed to get a better look. What she saw was a surprise for there was the little girl whom was little no more. She was there with everyone and up a banner they held saying, ‘Thank You!’ And not, ‘Farewell!’
The little girl was pleasantly surprised. The little girl looked up and said, “What is all of this for?” The girl whom was little no more could only shake her head, smile, and say, “Well done…My friend.” Both girls realized what had to be done, so, they ran and ran until they were alone, and with tears in her eyes the older girl said, “I see what I have done. I am so sorry little one.” The little girl could only smile, so instead she gave her love, in form of a big hug.
They both knew what they together could do, as sisters, as friends, they brought the world anew. And yes, there would be dark, but their light would shine through, would prove to all who was bad, that they wouldn’t stand down. The world would join again. So together they stood as one. All pieces of the whole.
They wrote the truth. Their truth was spread, far and wide, across everywhere, even in the lowest of lows. Because they realized, the truth was not for one it was for everyone. Their writing brought them together, it was what made them admit their mistakes and conquer their dreams, their knowledge was shared. That was the truth they gave, that no matter what you can all have it, you can all see the truth if you truly want it.