Peach grew from the smallest seed, always watching, always reading, always wondering what was wrong, and always wanting to belong to someone. She raised herself without knowing how, and inarticulately, she walked the earth on coltish legs. Wide-eyed, she’d panic now and then, but went forward into fear and the unknown. Peach was a lonely child in a family of five, an old soul mourning the loss of remembrance of better times. Petty guilt and remorse over inconsideracies plagued her, but her will was strong, bent only by clear and concise decision. Regret, she knows not, only loss. But Peach grew and is growing still. She is soft of flesh and strong of heart. At least, finally, she knows she is not alone, cannot do it alone, and will not have to.