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The day I was chosen to walk the earth was the last day I would see my family; they said I was chosen to become the new goddess because of my beauty and unique mind. I knew it was all a lie, but I trusted them; my people looked up to me, and I never thought that this day would come, but why now?

I don't know if this was my dream come true or my worst nightmare, it was March 10, the day that everything changed, I was fully announced that I was the new goddess, but people didn't praise me, they looked at me in disgust, like I was their new enemy.

April 6, 1998, was the day I left this awful planet; the noise was loud and the air was brown and everything was black, were they planning on killing me? Now that I think about it, they never liked me and I was never unique and beautiful, so were they really after me, or were they testing me?

Would they really do this to me? I don't think my family would have done a terrible thing like this; they are sweet and generous so they couldn't have done this but again, they are ones who told me that I should be the next goddess, and told me if I became the new goddess they would be proud.

I'm different and I hate that I was never the chosen one. They hated me and lied about everything about how I was different from the others, and they knew that I would fall into their trap; they knew everything, but now I'm the new soul.

The souls that have been forgotten, the yelling never did stop, and they never stopped lying, did they? They said to keep your friends close and your enemies closer, but I never knew who was my enemy.

One word and it was all gone, that's what they told me, but it didn't make sense because they knew I could hold my words together. Their words were sticking to me like gum and I wanted them to stop, but they couldn't. I wanted to cry but it didn't help and my mind didn't let me talk.

I was happy, but they weren't; they wanted to see my pain until I couldn't cry any longer, and I knew that crying wouldn't help, so what made me stop crying? I want them to remember my name. Zia means light, splendor, grain, that is what my mother used to tell me.

I was the Light of a beautiful woman who knew to keep their mouth closed because the truth may come out; that is why my soul cannot talk.

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