There once was a little girl named Melancholia. Her parents named her after sadness because unlike other little girls her heart was too fragile and she felt the gloominess in every situation of life. While other little kids cheered for puppies, Melancholia would cry for the unwanted older dogs at the shelter. For Halloween her classmates would dress up as princesses and fairies, Melancholia was a witch (because spells to transform the bleak world sounded far more appealing.)
The world was her biggest wonder. She didn't understand most human beings, the TV comedies that would make them laugh at others pathetic stupidity, the generic and unsubstantial music that would play on the radio, the trivial every day conversations most people seemed to find connections amongst each other with. She certainly did try, more than anything she wanted to belong. Yet her voice seemed to never be heard, it's low volume and high pitch was always muffled by the background. In groups of people she felt absent, unseen and forgotten. This only increased her sense of sadness and awareness of her invisibility and mortality.
Then one day she saw a group of boys and girls laughing and having fun. As usual she gazed at them with curiosity, bewilderment and jealousy. Upon comparing herself she realized that she was missing something. There was a giant hole in her chest. She touched the hole, then stuffed her arm through it. It was completely empty and exposed. The other children had one-dimensional items covering their holes. Melancholia ran home. She was greeted by her grandmother and noticed that her grandmother's hole didn't exist. It was flesh and blood.
Melancholia asked her, "grandma, what happened to your hole?" Her grandmother responded, "my dear, you are beginning to question your existence. you've finally noticed the hole. we are each born with a hole, a void, but we must choose to fill it. the filling will determine your happiness in life."
Melancholia thought about this for a few minutes. Then asked, "What is happiness?"
