A Child's Book

From her beginning she knew things weren't right. She saw how other families were, she wasn't dumb but she was naive. Perhaps the other families are just like her own. Put on the perfect act in public but are a war behind doors. She learned from her youth the dangers of speaking, what good can your mouth do if you cannot control other's reactions. It became apparent that she was not like the rest. Other children her age spoke of how much they love their family and all the things they do together. Whereas her parents took opposing shifts because they couldn't afford to hire someone to watch her and her temperamental older sister. Until one day a local girl offered her service for a fair price, she worked at the local corner store and volunteered at the community center, she was not applying for the money she was applying for the good karma. She had met the girls before, for the oldest loved to read and wanted to go to the library to take out books. The youngest however was just fascinated by the people. The babysitter noticed the young girl's big blue eyes and how they moved around the room. She noticed how she could not smile and knew this little girl had more secrets then the world knew it could ever contain. As she bent down to the child she asked her what she was watching, the little girl did not speak. She asked her if she could write it down, but she was too young to write. She asked if she could draw a picture to explain, she took out a pencil case filled with all sorts of markers and crayons and the child's eyes lit up. She hurried along on her drawing and soon enough it was made clear. The little girl's eyes were so bright and amused by those around her for they were like the tv, but real. She liked to listen, she liked to observe. She became more aware of characters then any of those who had read the most of their life. The little girl then swept away by an older woman who picked her up and sat her at the child's table and told her she'd read her a book on princesses. The child protested as a mime would and ran to the babysitters leg and held it. Her arms did not latch on because she told them to, her arms held her leg in need of her help. She had never felt understood by anyone else prior. Not her mother nor father or elder sister could understand the ways her mind worked. The babysitter took it on as her own duty to open this child like her inner book she had locked and hidden away.