Written November 5, 2006.
(dug up after three long years.)
PURITY

I am Naminé. I'm supposedly the dark side of a certain person's heart, thought I am told I have no heart and no emotions whatsoever. Though I was not labelled 'Evil' or anything of that sort, surprisingly. Instead, they labeled me 'The Witch of Memories' and I was branded as Light. From my pale blonde hair to my little white dress, I was seemingly pure.

I've been in Castle Oblivion for as long as I can remember, really. I had my own little room there, and just like the rest of the castle, it was purely white. Different from the other occupants, the people that called themselves 'Nobodies' for they were the darker side of a person's heart, I blended in quite well. While they wore dark black cloaks that covered themselves completely, I had my white sundress and my blue sandals.

So you see, I should have been unnoticeable. I should have been able to slip in and out of the castle, dart around its pale walls. Instead, I had closed guard on me, for it seems I was important to their 'plan'. They did not drop any hints to me about it for a while, so I was forced to remain clueless, sitting in my little white room, staring into the inky blackness outside my window that was The World That Never Was, drawing my little childish pictures.

Oh, my pictures. I would have loved them with all my heart if only I had one. They were my only friends while I was trapped in the seemingly pure palace, keeping me hopeful and happy. I had all these images in my head that suddenly felt as if they did not belong. Anxious to do something, I found some paper and started drawing.

Childish drawings of star shaped yellow fruits, islands, little black creatures… they all covered my walls. They were noticeable – standing out. I was certainly glad I had asked my guard for some color utensils to pass my time.

The ones that stood out the most, though, were probably the ones of the three children. A brown haired boy in over-sized red shorts, a white shirt with a blue vest, humongous yellow shoes and the silver crown chain – that one was the most I drew. I felt that a goofy, careless, yet caring personality fit him well.

The second one was of a girl that looked incredibly like me. Yet she had maroon chin-length hair and wore a purple skirt along with white sandals and white spaghetti strapped top, complete with a tear-shaped silver necklace dangling off her neck – she was always seemingly happy and cheerful, never letting anything get her down.

The last one, another boy who seemed older than the other two, was a handsome teen with silver hair, puffed out dark blue jean pants complete with many pockets, a sleeveless pale yellow shirt with dark black crosses on the front, fingerless white gloves and gray sneakers – he seemed like the serious one, being mostly quiet yet outspoken, though always caring for his friends.

Those three people – they became my imaginary friends. I saw flashes in my mind of them on an island – usually in different places. They were in cave covered with chalk pictures and a tall wooden door that did not seem to belong, then atop a tree watching the sunset, content smiles stretched lazily over their faces. Then they were having a race between the brown haired and the silver haired boy while the girl cheered, followed by them gazing out to sea and building a raft.

I named them Sora, Kairi, and Riku – Sora was the brown haired boy, Riku was the silver haired teen, and Kairi was the red head. When I became lonely, I thought of them. I would think out different scenarios for each one of them – sometimes alone, but mostly together.

The people that were keeping me here were suddenly gleeful when they glimpsed some of my drawings. Why, I did not understand. But I knew for sure – I did not like whatever it was. They sent me looks of what seemed like expectation and… greed? Then it would be gone, their eyes emotionless once again.

Through all of this, I forced myself to believe I was pure. I forced myself to believe that I was nothing like them. I was a pure, innocent little girl, caught up in their world of treachery, lies, and no emotions.

One day though, one of them brought something to me that astonished me beyond belief. It was a fairly sized brooch – it was shaped like a strangely misshapen heart, covered with many jewels of all sizes. It was so breathtaking and beautiful, that when they said I could keep it with sickly-twisted smiles on their faces – which I carelessly paid no attention to – my thoughts were all on the brooch.

I examined it every day, perhaps every moment of the day as well. The light shimmered from jewel to jewel, all different colors. I could see amethyst, the stone of strength shining. Then there was twinkling emerald, the stone representing honor. The topaz, the stone of fate, shone brightly beside it as well, accompanied by the lapis lazuli which represented joy and carelessness. The opal shone brightly as well, just like the stone of courage should, the ruby of determination twinkling menacingly beside it.

The last jewel – my breath caught in my throat – took up the center of the heart, while the others just stood surrounding it. And as I stared at the diamond, the glistening white jewel representing purity, a different way of thoughts overtook me.

I took another look carefully at all the jewels; and froze in shock. The stones were still shining brightly as I watched them change from normal color to lighter, then to darker, seemingly all on their own. To darker. My thoughts raced as I willed for my guess to be false, to be just a figment of my overly-creative imagination—

I swayed slightly as my eyes stared wide open in shock-turned-horror at what I once thought the most beautiful and purest stone of all.

The lights played on the diamond, darting around its uneven edges as if taunting me. I watched the stone, open-mouthed, as the beautiful white turned even lighter, then suddenly brightening into a darker shade, still going darker and more blacker—

I broke off all of my train of thought as I hurled the brooch out the window, willing it to shatter to small shards and to lay forever forgotten on the dry, cracked earth that made up this world, its horrors to be never seen again, for nobody to witness what I have seen; to realize what I have realized as I stared at the malicious jewels.

Yet my imagination took control again, and images of the brooch lying still on the ground as it shattered remains twinkled brightly in the non-existent sunlight, the shadows playing and playing, turning the stones to darker and darker colors, showing more evil by the seconds—

I become even more alone after that. I withdrew into my shell of nothingness and found my sanctuary in the drawings I did of the three children; of the images I carved into my mind to get further and further away from this horrible world.

Not surprisingly yet still slightly disturbing, my captors seemed gleeful yet again and almost excited as they noticed that I had become more gloomy than ever and that I never had the brooch with me again.

Even more days passed, and I became different in my own shell. The love I felt for my characters turned into jealously then into deep hatred, and I drew them less and less, bitter feelings that were unnatural to me as that I did not have a heart to feel overtook my body, shaking it with grief for everything it was worth.

And then he came – the leader of the Organization that held me captive here for so many restless days. He offered something I could not resist: the chance to be able to have my imaginary characters come to life, and to be able to control one of them.

Immediately, I asked which one it was and my imaginary heart soared as I heard that Sora will be in my command – for I have grown quite attached to him – and to be able to change his memories to be whatever I wanted them…

The plan was put into action. All I had to do was draw what I wanted Sora's memories to be like, to replace his feelings with new ones, to replace the girl he loved – Kairi – with me.

Finally, somebody to look after me, to care for me, to love me…

And the brooch appeared in my mind not too soon after. I winced as my memories showed the colors changing to darker, the shadows playing, never staying on one specific shade.

And then, again, it had hit me. Like a harsh slap of betrayal, I had realized what the Organization – the people I now almost considered friends – had done.

They knew of my thoughts. They knew of my thoughts on how they were of me being pure, of me being nothing like them. Using that to their advantage, they sent me the brooch to make me realize – to make me think – that I was just like them.

That even though at first glance I looked pure, if you looked closely, you would find the darkness seeping through my body, through my thoughts, and through the little soul I had.

Alas, their plain has backfired. I found out that my 'characters' were actually real people, and I gave Sora his true memories – it also turned out that I was actually part of Kairi's heart – and now I watch over him and his friends, glad that everything has turned out fine.

The brooch is still constantly on my mind. I dream of it and its jewels while I'm asleep, and I imagine it still lying on the ground outside the caved walls of Castle Oblivion while I'm awake. I still remember of the painful moment when I realized what the brooch has done.

Yet it no longer bothers me as much as it did before. I now know that I have never been pure, I will never be pure, and nobody is ever pure. Even in hearts that seem to be beautiful and transparent, something black trickles in there, staining the wondrous image.

Some people choose to fight; others decide to ignore it – while I decide to accept it. Their theories may not be completely true, but they shall never we wrong; yet they will never be complete. As the King of a World once said – 'The Heart is a wondrous thing.' – he was right. No Heart is ever completely the same, yet it is never much different.

And was it not he, the leader of the Organization, who declared, 'Every heart starts in darkness.'?