Am I a Narcissist? Or just a Masochist?
Deus Ex Procella
Author's Note: Very brief one-shot. Not my best story by far, but it was an idea I couldn't get out of my head. Got some major writer's block happening right now. Probably nerves, moving into my dorm tomorrow. I'll try to get back to all of my other stories, but no promises. Hope you enjoy, sorry about the lack of quality in this one.
How did things ever get so strange? I thought I was supposed to grow up and be normal, just like everyone else. At least...be as normal as a man-made demigod could possibly grow up to be. Now when I look at myself in the mirror, I see a freak staring back. The years were generous, even miraculous. Now to look at me, no one who didn't know better would assume I was just another regular fifteen year old red head. If anyone were to look inside my head, then they'd know just what kind of freak I really am.
Somehow, memories I should have forgotten keep coming back. Memories I have no right remembering because they happened so long ago, and so briefly. Worse, I remember that day in such a surreal and fanciful light, even if I was facing who should have been my greatest enemy. Still...when I remember those fierce red eyes, that wicked little smirk, I shiver and begin to lose my cool. Feeling this way...its no wonder I can't even look at myself anymore.
Those memories are why I've stopped checking my reflection, because its my reflection that stirs all these dark...sensuous memories. I can't look at myself without seeing her, seeing that vicious monster that—if given a chance—could have been my worst enemy. The longer I look into my own pink eyes, the clearer I see her crimson bloodstones reflecting. If I happen to catch a glimpse of my own confident smile, I see flashes of her devious sneer. How could I have fallen so far to find myself attracted to my own dark doppleganger?
To that degree, it begs to question...just what does that make me? I think...I'm falling in love with a girl—that alone makes my stomach churn, just thinking of how the media would have a blast with the revelation of my sexuality—who for all express purposes...is me. Am I really so conceited that the person I find most beautiful is another form of myself? The girl who fills my thoughts and makes my heart flutter is a devil wearing my face. Am I really that strange? Really such a freak? Am I really that narcissistic?
Deeper still, another question that begs answer: just how did a hero like me fall in love with a demon like her? She's everything I'm not, everything nasty, evil and cruel. Time and again—I gather from his reaction to seeing my sisters and me—she's tried to overthrow her own father so that she can rule the world. If I got to know her, I'm sure I'd see in her rose red eyes the same wickedness found in Him's devilish leer. I never took myself for the submissive type...but for her, I think I could be...
What am I? What happened to me? I've never felt this way about...anyone, anyone at all. I almost think...think that I'd even turn on my own sisters if she asked me to. Does that make me a bad person? Why am I like this? I wish...wish someone could tell me the answer. Maybe then I'd be able to look at myself in the mirror again.