I'm sweet thirteen or at least everybody thinks so. Why I don't know. Maybe one day I will be a sweet, little, thirteen-year-old girl. I don't want to be sweet thirteen at this moment. I am what I am, but nobody knows that. They look at me and see sweet thirteen.
I'm quite happy with what I am. And it does not trouble me that people think that I am sweet thirteen. I wear clothes like I was sweet thirteen – it causes less trouble.
I don't want to upset anyone – I really do want to make everybody happy, as happy as I am, very happy, indeed.
Who am I really? you ask. That is very easy. Open your eyes and just look at me. I stand in front of you. What do you see? What do you really see?
Perhaps you would be unhappy if you looked at me properly. But you don't, you won't. And that's not my problem. I won't tell you, you won't believe me, so I won't even try. You can't see the truth and maybe that makes you happier.
You call me sweet-thirteen but that is not my name. I've got a name, I like it, but you will never use it. If you knew who I am and what I do you would call me with my name. That would please me, make me happy even. Only the people who really know me use that name, it makes me happy.
I'm going to tell you about some of the things that I have done. You won't believe any of it – they are just stories and I am just a child. OK, I'm going to tell you children stories for adults. Read them all and perhaps you will discover my name.