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1. She had kept up with her façade ever since that day. The face that everyone knew as Song: bright, cheery, helpful and always smiling. Someone who people thought would have nothing to hide, nothing to keep secret. "Innocent Song, kind-hearted Song" they would praise.  But they were very wrong. She was neither innocent nor kind-hearted anymore. For Song had started to grow an unknown hatred that seemed to bite her bones and rot her stomach. And it did not go away.

2. No, this is wrong. I can't feel this way. For many days after what had happened, Song argued with herself. She pleaded, begged. Some days she did not come out of the house. Others, she did not leave her bedroom. When the time came, she began to step out and continue her normal life. Running errands from mother, working part time at the hospital, and other chores. She still smiled and laughed, like nothing had happened at all. No one knew that she carried a burden filled with self-guilt every time she came home: past the yard, past the sliding door, and into her room.

3. From then on, she was always insecure. Like the small things that go on in town, rumors here and there... never sure and always doubtful.  Song knew the adults would never catch it. The other kids, however, knew better. The stifles of laughter and looks of disgust was a big hint. Although she was never social with the other children in town, she was out casted as a "fake" and "suck-up" She could handle it. She knew. And she decided that there was no one to blame…only herself.

4. "Song, what are you doing? Hurry and finish the laundry!" her mother called from the kitchen. Hesitant to go back to work, her stare did not falter. The memories that burned her mind began to replay themselves. Flickers of scenes she tried to painstakingly erase began to cloud her eyes. No. I will never go back to those innocent times. She turned her head away from the stables and grit her teeth as she continued with her work. The wood on the frames were already worn down, and the ground was barren and empty underneath. She was sure that it would not change.

5. "—will be soon arriving at the village. Everyone, in your best clothes!" "Oh dear, what will I wear?!" "Ryu, hurry up and let me fix your hair!" Throughout all the madness, Song could not apprehend what she had heard. Who? Who is coming? She stood still, in the mess of villagers. It wasn't until her mother nudged her and said, "Song, what are you doing? Fire Lord Zuko will be here any moment."  Fire Lord…Zuko. Wait, what?!  Cold sweat ran down the side of her face. Z-Zuko? Here? No… it can't be. Her fingers began to shake and uneasy eyes darted from the ground to her hands. She could not lift her head. Not after all these years. Soldier's footsteps could be heard. Her body was ice: frozen in place.  When she finally had the courage to look up, he was there. She could not say a word. "Hello, Song, it's…been a while."

Description
1. She had kept up with her façade ever since that day. The face that everyone knew as Song: bright, cheery, helpful and always smiling. Someone who people thought would have nothing to hide, nothing to keep secret. "Innocent Song, kind-hearted Song" they would praise.  But they were very wrong. She was neither innocent nor kind-hearted anymore. For Song had started to grow an unknown hatred that seemed to bite her bones and rot her stomach. And it did not go away.

2. No, this is wrong. I can't feel this way. For many days after what had happened, Song argued with herself. She pleaded, begged. Some days she did not come out of the house. Others, she did not leave her bedroom. When the time came, she began to step out and continue her normal life. Running errands from mother, working part time at the hospital, and other chores. She still smiled and laughed, like nothing had happened at all. No one knew that she carried a burden filled with self-guilt every time she came home: past the yard, past the sliding door, and into her room.

3. From then on, she was always insecure. Like the small things that go on in town, rumors here and there... never sure and always doubtful.  Song knew the adults would never catch it. The other kids, however, knew better. The stifles of laughter and looks of disgust was a big hint. Although she was never social with the other children in town, she was out casted as a "fake" and "suck-up" She could handle it. She knew. And she decided that there was no one to blame…only herself.

4. "Song, what are you doing? Hurry and finish the laundry!" her mother called from the kitchen. Hesitant to go back to work, her stare did not falter. The memories that burned her mind began to replay themselves. Flickers of scenes she tried to painstakingly erase began to cloud her eyes. No. I will never go back to those innocent times. She turned her head away from the stables and grit her teeth as she continued with her work. The wood on the frames were already worn down, and the ground was barren and empty underneath. She was sure that it would not change.

5. "—will be soon arriving at the village. Everyone, in your best clothes!" "Oh dear, what will I wear?!" "Ryu, hurry up and let me fix your hair!" Throughout all the madness, Song could not apprehend what she had heard. Who? Who is coming? She stood still, in the mess of villagers. It wasn't until her mother nudged her and said, "Song, what are you doing? Fire Lord Zuko will be here any moment."  Fire Lord…Zuko. Wait, what?!  Cold sweat ran down the side of her face. Z-Zuko? Here? No… it can't be. Her fingers began to shake and uneasy eyes darted from the ground to her hands. She could not lift her head. Not after all these years. Soldier's footsteps could be heard. Her body was ice: frozen in place.  When she finally had the courage to look up, he was there. She could not say a word. "Hello, Song, it's…been a while."