Viola Monologue

A long time ago, in a small village named Talintos, lived a young girl named Viola Lin. Everybody in Talintos excelled or invented something that changed the world; everybody except for Viola.
People in the village mocked and laughed at Viola, even her parents, who were disapproving and ashamed of their own child.
“I thought that she would invent something,” said Viola’s mother, shaking her head. “But no, now I realize that will never happen.”
“I can play the flute!” Viola exclaimed, tears forming in her eyes. “I can cook, I can draw pictures, and I can hunt!”
“But Adrian can play flute much better than you. Isabelle invented poutine, Kathy draws better than you, and William can catch much larger prey. You will never be anything special,” her parents said, eyes glinting with disapproval.
Two children ripped Viola’s instrument out of her hands and threw it to the ground, where it laid, a huge crack on the surface.
Viola ran forwards, hands outstretched, as if she could save her invention from the derision of the villagers, but no. Dust flew as everybody charged towards the unfortunate hollow block of wood, stomping on it, kicking it, and finally, throwing it into a fire.
Poor Viola Lin screamed, kicked, and shouted, to no avail. Once her instrument was thoroughly destroyed by the bloodthirsty villagers, defeated and dejected, Viola left the village and started aimlessly wandering.
The whole while, Viola was muttering under her breath, how the villagers of Talintos were fools not to appreciate her invention, and how once she thought of a different idea, she will go back and make them worship her and her creation.
“Viola Lin,” a soft voice rang out from behind her.
When Viola spun around, she saw the majestic white horse, once more. “You speak?”
“I am Arion, created by Poseidon and Demeter,” replied the horse. “You never give up, no matter what, Viola Lin. It is quite