she was hidden in her wounds, happiness drained out of her body from the day she turned 5. She oh so desperately wanted to be happy but her mother denied it. How was she just supposed to act sad and miserable or angry or anything other than happiness? She needed a way out, a way to feel some joy. Trapped and hurt, wounded and bruised, she always found a way to keep it to herself.

"Momma." "Yes, baby?" "What is happiness." Her mother went silent. "Why do you ask?" Her tone becomes low and harsh. "I uhm, well I saw a mother and her child and they were allowed to laugh and smile... Why can't we feel that way?"