Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder

Tell them your story. Whispers were faint. in her shackles they placed her up on a stage. she danced out her story. danced out her play. describing three long years that he loved her, she claimed. tears of sorrow dripped down her face, she danced and danced with a grim type of grace. tiptoeing so gently to hit the right notes,the song so unheard of, the song no one spoke. a beautiful ballad her story had told. from her point of view and hers alone. the memories played on like a movie in her head. what she claimed was jack and rose was just romantic death. she set up her scene to show the story of the oppressed. thus the chilling narrative from the eyes of the obsessed.