A Heart

She didn't speak freely. Her lack of words wasn't caused by a fear of being judged, lack of fluency in language, or any other excuse you may manage to conjure up. She plain and simply felt that her words didn't deserve a voice.
This may confuse many of you. Don't get me wrong though she still did speak. Her voice was used, but they weren't her words. Most people say basic small talk phrases. Most use their manners. Most know the answer to certain questions in class. She was part of this majority.
The words she spoke, is what she was taught to say. She knew the answer to questions, since her answers was what the text book told her. Her pleases and thank yous were embedded in her head from a stern mother. What I am getting at is, her words weren't her own.
She was the perfect daughter. The thing about perfect people is they're fake. The façade she put up was perfect, yet utterly fake. Everything anyone ever knew about her was fake. Her words were calculated. The mannerisms she possessed were well practiced. All you would see is the polite shy girl, and that's all she wanted you to see.
She didn't speak freely, since she felt her words didn't deserve a voice. Everyone has a story. As untold as her story may be, it still exists. The only reason why somebody else knows her complete tale, is she slipped up. I was her slip up. Thanks to human error you will get to read the words I will soon write. Her story will be written in the words that she thought didn't deserve a voice.
As I am one for technicalities, I am not giving her words a voice. Instead I am giving her words a heart.