I never thought that my life would end this way. Not that I thought of my life ending a lot. No more than a regular person. I always had hoped though that when I died I would at least have someone I loved or someone who loved me by my side. I guess that won't be happening. Perhaps I'm getting too far ahead of myself. My name is Fa Mulan. And this is my story.
The beginning:
A few years ago, things were different. People were different. They were happier. As you walked down the streets you could see it on the faces of the people walking by. A couple standing by a fruit stand arguing about how much they should buy. A child clutching a stuffed doll, lines of laughter etched into her face. Little boys running through the street yelling mock war cries, trying their best to get ahead of the other.
My family always knew deep down that I was different than them, different looks, different personalities. My father used to joke that I was delivered by a stork. I never knew what he truly meant until I grew older. My frizzy hair, to the horror of my mother, continued to get frizzy and frizzier the longer my hair got. She and my grandmother tried everything until they finally cut my hair off. I feel the need to clarify something. Mushu is not in fact a dragon, though he was born in the year of the dragon. Instead, Mushu was and is to this day my best friend and neighbor. He has taught me a lot and I am forever thankful. When Mushu and I would go into the market-place, we often got mistaken for brothers. We both had the same features; only mine were more feminine.