What was so pathetic about her, that most people turned apathetic?
She silently suffered the punishment for being different. Her skin color and facial features all resembled that of the family, but the mind was different. Her mother often made these remarks, that her brain on a petri-dish, would look green or black or some atrocious color, not pink.
She grew up to be a writer, and discovered to her delight that readers loved her flow of thoughts. The atrocious green had metamorphosed into a lovely rainbow.
The good vibrations she waited for all her life were finally there.