The moment a child is born is the most joyous moment anyone has ever witnessed. It is a reason to celebrate and smile. To laugh and enjoy yourself. To be happy. Hopeful.
But there is also a moment when a person ceases to exist. Their heart simply stops, and there is an emptiness in the air that leaves you helpless and alone.
I was born on a piece of paper, a simple sketch in a notebook of ideas, swimming in a book of rough-draft characters. The lucky ones are put into stories, engraved in other people's lives. I was not so lucky.
The characters that don't make it are sent to Xville, a place for all rough-drafts and unwanted characters. Characters that got... Xed. They live quiet lives in quiet towns in quiet houses and sleep in quiet beds. I was quiet, too.
But I will not be silenced.
I was destined to be a hero, before I was tossed into the trash. I was Sylvia Smith, a strong and loving girl with a sweet heart. I had long, blonde hair that flew halfway down my back and rested in a perfect arc in the small of my back. I had a determined face with rosy cheeks and strawberry-colored lips. I loved dresses and was an excellent baker. I was everything a little girl should be.
But I had one flaw - the Author thought that my character was too sweet and innocent to go on an adventure and save one person, let alone everyone.
And so I was tossed in the trash, a mistake, an ideal character who was just too perfect. Maybe a rougher and tougher version of me can have a story, a real one in the Author's books, and maybe not quite the same as my story from all the way in Xville.
Because I am not the perfect character.