"I may not look like a child, but I'm really still just a teenager.  As a young child I became a slave...barely had the chance to know my real family.  I don't know who you are, but you think I'm lucky?  Knowing those things doesn't make me lucky...crying is rewarded with pain, happiness is stripped away the moment you feel it to reveal only sadness, if you laugh at something you're made to feel guilty about it and to fall in love when all you can do is pity yourself for it...that's not what I call lucky."  Melody told him, starting to shake again and feeling a bit uneasy as she remembered the ways she'd been treated.  "I think you're the lucky one...if people fear you then they'll leave you alone, they won't hurt you.  As for that woman, if she killed someone then why's she asking for help?"  The girl asked, the only time she ever needing help being when she was tormented by the family she was a slave to.