A/N

PLEASE READ:

This is another story like that of many others I have typed with this writing style. It is told from Zim's point of view and he speaks of the "expected person" society waits for everyone to become. He is angry that the humans are so foolish as to try and change someone into a being they are not. But when they hide his foreign appearance and try to make him into something he is not, he notices that they are not there when he is in true trouble.

It may seem like a big topic for something as simple as a carton, but I like writing about more serious subjects and portraying them through something seemingly innocent, like a cartoon.

In the end, this world tries to make us into someone we are not. But it is up to us to die a copy or remain unique.

I do not own Invader Zim. Enjoy.

Pitter, patter, run away. I no longer exist in this realm. Forget the shadows of tears running down my face; discard the shame of the shouts escaping my lips. I am merely a statue frozen in time. I bow my head to the ground and rest my knees on the stone. There, I have stopped moving. I will remain this way and reflect the beauty of my lifeless limbs that scrape at the clouds. If I please you, I delight myself. Relish the dream that you had that is now displayed within me. Bear no shame, cross no pity; I have been birthed from your desires. You longed for a copy just like me and now here I am.

Bask in your ignorance.

Fool! Can you not see? Once I was different, a figure withholding the statute of exclusive matchlessness, but no more! You tore it down with your claws and fangs stripping me of my covering flesh. Now I stand nude, exposed in a chilling world. The only scraps to cover with are that of the barren, prosaic bland that haunts the human race. I shake my head, not wanting to believe, but I see it is so as you draw nearer, nearer…

"Hide those strange, aberrant eyes!" they chant. On my eyes, lenses are placed. "Rid our sight of the foreboding limbs jutting from his head!" A scrap of hair is tossed onto my head. They stand back and peer at their work, approving fogs casted over their blind eyes.

Conflated with those around me, I have become new. I am an element of the cluster of mindless wanderers who strive to be as one. But if I am new, unfamiliar to your choking senses, why do I see other, symmetrical beings, derived from the image of me roaming about? You said I was unique. You said I was new.

Then why do I feel like a copy?

As my hands brush 'cross my eyes that ache with distress, I slowly begin to see. Wrinkled robes, inure laughter, and mocking reflections casted in mirrors; this is what you have made me become? If my shell from before was deformed to you then, what of now? Why, you have made me rotten and blemished within! Inside I am crying, burning in this pit of deriding flames. I reach for you to save me. I long to escape. Brother? Sister? Where have you gone? You left me?

You left me.

But what of the proud approval once nodding your heads? You saw a vision in me. You placed me in the Mold and left me till I was whole. When I appeared, you applauded the delusion of the being you thought you had created. Now that I am hurting, bleeding in pain, where are you?

Where are you?

A/N

I hope you enjoyed it.

I have not written in a while. Hopefully I haven't lost my ability to write . Thank you for reading. If you like this style, you may consider reading my other Invader Zim stories, Deceit and Redeeming a Reason.

I would appreciate your feedback also. I hope to become a author and plan to send in my first manuscript soon so I would like to know what you think of my skills. I know there is always room for improvement, but I would like to know your personal opinion. Thank you for your time response.

-L.W.