Flying with broken wings

I remember the day Lily Green first smiled. It was a small smile, but a smile none the less. It is her smile that has given me the inspiration to write this story, her story, and mine.
When the little girl turned seven, she had no celebration, but being seven was an important age, she thought. It meant she would be going to Junior school, she would meet people like her, and maybe, just maybe, she would have friends.
But the little girl did not receive gifts and kisses on her birthday, but she gave her mother a gift, a gift of her painful cries, her mothers favorite.
The little brown haired girl sat on her front porch, hugging her bruised legs with tears dripping down her rosy cheeks. No one would think it was her birthday, when she looked like her world had come crashing down around her.
And at that moment, she made a wish, she didn't wish for a new bike, or a puppy like other little girls, she wished for a friend, an escape, hope. The wish glowed in her big brown eyes, and a question lingered in her seven year old mind.
Who could ever be friends with a broken child?
"Tears are our way of forgetting, let it all out, then wipe them away." A frail voice said from beside the little girl, and to her left, where the voice came from, was an elderly woman, the little girl recognized her from next door.
"Isnt it your birthday?" The old lady asked her.
She nodded while looking at the lady with wide eyes. She was kind, she didn't talk down to her, or cause her any kind of pain.
"How old are you sweetie?" She asked.
"S..S..Seven." She whispered softly, afraid that she might say something wrong.
"Seven is a big number." The lady said and smiled warmly at her. The little girl had never seen such a smile, the only smile in her memory was twisted and evil.
"Whats your name?"
"Lily... Lily Green." She answered. No one had ever asked her name before, she was avoided and unimportant.
"Thats a pretty name Lily. Im Mrs Philips." Mrs Philips held out a softly wrinkled, feminine hand, her nails were painted a pale pink, it was Lilies favorite colour.
Lily reached out her small, dirt stained one.
Mrs Philips took it none the less and shook it surely.
"You know Lily, girls shouldnt have dirty hands." Mrs Philips said kindly and stood up.
"Come with me dear." Lily looked back at her house, as if waiting for her mother to come storming out and rip her new friend away. She stood up and Mrs Philips took her little hand again and led her to her house, her door was yellow, the colour of sunshine.
Mrs Philips took Lily into her kitchen and sat her on the counter, next to the sink.
"You dont have to be afraid Lily. I wont hurt you."
Lily had never heard those words before, it almost made her smile, almost.
Mrs Philips pickd up a warm wet cloth and gently washed the dirt away. She studied Lilies bare skin, glaring at every mark.
"Where did these come from dear?" Mrs Philips asked running her index finger over a newly developed bruise.
Lily shrugged. She knew that if she said anything she would get more bruises.
"Wait here." Mrs Philips said and left the room, she came back in holding a small flowery dress.
"This was my granddaughters. You can have it." She said warmly, helping Lily to the floor. She removed her old dirty frock and pulled on the new one.
"You're beautiful Lily." Mrs Philips said, Lily closed her eyes and memorized those words. She was just an ugly little girl to so many, but here, in this house, she was beautiful.
A little girl, in a little dress.

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Hello everyone! I have been wanting to write this story for ages, i got the idea from Concrete angel by Martina McBride.
I hope you like the first chapter and would like to read more.
Im not going to tell you whose point of view this story is in, its a surprise :)
as always, comment rate and fave!
much love to all readers!