***
pArt 2
"Crawl into the oven, here its dark and warm.
I only had the proof of beauty in my hands a moment before they took it away."
-Schandlich Freude
***
My daddy used to read me a poem when I was sleepy. He'd come home every
night just in time to tuck me into bed and kiss me goodnight, but I was never
tired. I'd always ask him to stay awhile and talk to me, to tell me how his
day went. Then he'd smile and rustle my hair, telling me how much he loved
me. I'd tell him how much I loved him back, and he'd sit beside me and read
to me, by the light of my soft, rainbow lamp. It wasn't anything big or
special, but the memory of his reading to me is one of the few that I still
have of him. When I try now… Now I have to look into a picture to remember
what he looks like.
My house is filled with pictures of father standing with mother and me.
There are pictures of us at Christmas, at the beach, at the park. There are
so many pictures, but so many of them… they're all so old. Sometimes I like
to take those pictures and flip through them, remembering how strong and
happy we were.
Strong
Back then, I was strong. I could run and run and never get tired. I could
jump and run and laugh, and mama and papa would always be there, laughing and
having fun with me. Back then I was strong because I had his love, because I
had their love, and that love was so infectious and wonderful that I thought
we could do anything. Their love made me strong.
Happy
I remember when we were together, we were happy. It felt good to do all that
smiling. Papa would push me on the swings at the park, or we'd all go for
walks on nice days through the city, stopping at any shop we wanted to. We'd
endlessly browse the colorful display windows, half seeing the multi-colored
wonders inside, and half seeing our own smiling faces reflected in the glass.
Those smiles were always filled with love and joy. That love made me happy.
But now…
Papa went away. Mama doesn't care. We aren't a family anymore, we're… we're
something less than that. Sure, mama works really hard to provide for us,
but I just want her to see that all I want is her, not some empty palace. A
family doesn't need some fancy house to be called a family. A family has
love and happiness. That doesn't exist here anymore. That's why I go to
Sasami's. They're always so happy and carefree, and they welcome me like I
was their own daughter.
I guess I've always seen Sasami as a sister, someone to look up to and who
could protect me. She is my strength when I feel weak, and my hope when I
feel lost. I always wanted so desperately to have that. I had it when my
family was together, but now, now we're apart, and Sasami is all I really
have.
And that's how Misa was born.
At first I admired Sasami's strength, but after awhile I began to envy it. I
saw her as someone who wouldn't let anyone push her around. I saw her as the
person who could get what they wanted by the sheer force of her personality.
I saw that Sasami was strong.
Strong
It wasn't just her strength. I also admired how her attitude always managed
to cheer me up. I wanted to be that person, the one that had so much
positive energy that they just knew they could do anything in the world. I
wanted to always smile, just like her. I wanted to make others smile, just
like her. I wanted to make people happy.
Happy
I would lie awake at night and picture how that me would look. I saw a Misao
that was always strong, no matter what happened. She didn't care what people
thought about her as long as they were in awe of her. I saw a Misao that was
so happy and outgoing that she could handle any situation, no matter how
impossible it seemed. I saw myself, saw Misao, but it wasn't Misao. This
person was something else. This was Misa.
Misa was supposed to be good and strong. She was to be happy and unafraid of
the world. She was to be everything that I was not, and then a little more,
and Misa was. She was outgoing and brazen. She was happy and unafraid.
Misa… Misao… these names are so close, yet when I look at them standing side
by side I see something less than I thought I would.
I see something less in both of us.
Now that the demon inside of us is dead, I can feel Misa in the back of my
mind. She's so lonely and scared. She thinks that I've forgotten about her,
and that without me she will die. She still can't see the simple truth to
our relationship.
I go to her, asking why she is so closed off. I ask her why she is scared of
me, why she fears what I might do. She tries so hard to pretend like it
doesn't matter, like we're two completely separate people who don't need each
other. She keeps going on and on, going so far as to deliver that monologue
we used to use. When she finished, I catch myself asking her a question that
even I couldn't answer.
"Who is Pixy Misa?"
I was being cruel, but I couldn't help it. Misa brought out something deep
inside of me, something that made me feel strong, but angry at the same time.
She made me question myself, who I was and why I was here. I guess she just
isn't ready to have the favor returned.
I get angry with her and turn my back. She keeps ranting about how
independent and strong she is, and I am getting sick of it. If I couldn't
make her see the truth, then why should I even bother? As I walk away, I can
feel her anger welling up inside. She knows I'm right, that we need each
other, and that she is only as alone as she let's herself be. As I walk
away, I hear her screaming something through a veil of mist, but I can't
really hear her. She's fading behind me, disappearing into the darkness.
I tried to tell her that I was stronger now, and that I didn't need her help
anymore. I had hoped to find an excuse to keep her with me, to justify her
existence with something, anything. All she did though was show me that she
was something less than I had thought she was.
I don't want to keep doing this. I don't want to keep running away from
myself, when its myself that I'm trying so hard to understand. I want to
know that I can be strong, that I can be happy just like I've always dreamed.
I want to know that these feelings are mine, not the creation of someone
else.
I want to know… but I can't bring myself to admit the truth.
Papa, where are you?
***
Pixy Misa, Misao Amano, Pretty Sammy and Sasami belong to Pioneer, TV Tokyo
and AIC
All C&C should go to BGlanders@aol.com