She was misunderstood. Why did everyone fear her? Just because she brefriended the lonely and helped the misunderstood didn't mean she, too, was a horror.
The dress she wore was a witch dress- and the flowers she picked were wilted and dead. To them, it was disgusting and ugly.
But just because something is wilted doesn't mean it is ugly. Just because something is a witch dress doesn't mean she, too, was a witch. Perhaps she was. It didn't really matter. People aren't to be defined by the clothing they wear.
To most, a wilted flower had lost it's beauty. But she could still see the beauty it held.
" Just because something is dead doesn't mean it isn't beautiful. "
That's what she told herself every day, alone in her small cottage with the leaky roof in the misty dead woods.
She guessed they would just never understand.