Her name is the lesser of the three. Her voice the smallest of the three and her mind the most manipulated of the three. People wonder what is that makes her be so different. She does not mind the outside whispers, but the inside whispers never seem to go away with their grisly words averring what she never thought about herself. When she is by herself, she knows “ME” is okay. She knows that everything about her is exactly what it was meant to be because she was molded into this form before the primary touches of the world on her skin was felt, so unaware of the disconsolate feelings that would begin to associate themselves with it. Her name difficult to remember and the ones who remember are the ones worth holding on to for they take it to make sure they learn it. It is not “the lesser of the three” or “the smallest voice of the three” or “the most corrupted of the three”, her name is her name and those who know it never release it but let it become a salient under their umbrage to have and to hold, to cherish and to remember, and to recall and admire. Yes, she is who she is- the verbatim definition of her name where no one can fit the bigness of her hair like the bigness of her letters when she writes her name, or the sparkles in her eyes when she dots them, or the curves in her body when she writes the curves of her S’s, or the lenient figure she has when she loops the L’s in her name. No one can match the girl she is and the young woman she has become. No one understands how she can look the outside whisperers in the eye and say, “So let them talk.” No one knows how she handles the insides whispers with the silence and composure of a dignified public speaker. No, she is not the lesser of the three, she is the greater. Her voice is not the smallest of the three; it is the largest and the loudest. Her mind is not the most manipulated of the three; it is the most creative, the most methodical, most magnificent and beneficent of them all. She is not of the least of these, but she is of the best.