So this is my first fanfic, of any kind, ever. This first chapter may be a little dull and introspective, but things do pick up... Please review; any comments (constructive, obvs) are appreciated. Also, if anybody thinks of a better title, please suggest it! Thanks!

Day 1

I'm beginning to realize that I think too much.

That is, I think instead of talking, or doing things. I just sit, and think.

The fact is, I'm always thinking because I don't know what to do, or what to say. Until I figure out how to act, how can I... well... act? Do I act my age, or do I act the age at which my body is stuck in time? If I act my real age, will anyone take me seriously? I know Vincent Valentine does – but I think I still frighten him a little, because of what I represent to him. With the rest of them it's more ambiguous. I sometimes feel like everyone tiptoes around me, like I'm something volatile, a feral cat who could lash out at any moment. It's because they fear the unknown. I'm not a nine-year old; they know that. But I don't look like one, and yet since I spent most of my life up until now locked in Shinra's basement, I don't know anything about the world, or being sociable. I'm sure I knew how to be sociable once; I've just forgotten. I don't know what to say anymore. I might as well be nine years old...

But I think too much to be nine years old, I'm too quiet and serious. I don't remember how to be a child anymore. It's been a decade, a decade of hell, since I pretended to be something else and went on an adventure through the house or the playground or wherever. I can't let go and let my imagination wander anymore. DeepGround must have killed it. It makes sense; they needed my mind for their own purposes, and a child's vivid imagination would have been the severest of handicaps. It's coming back, little by little, but I can't control what I imagine; I can't daydream. If I try, what comes is memories, and so all my daydreams are nightmares. (Would that be a daymare? Is that even a word? I should ask Vincent. If anyone has experience with nightmares, I'm sure it's him.)

I've begun to dream at night again. Most of the time they're disturbing, unpleasant. There's one dream that I keep having, over and over, where everyone is moving around me very fast, like hummingbirds. I can tell that all they're doing is going through a normal day – but I'm paralyzed. I can't move. Hours pass; I can feel myself running out of mako, but I can't get anyone's attention – they're going by too fast! I know that if I faint now, someone will trip over me, and with how fast everyone's bustling around, they could get seriously injured. This makes me realize that I am only a burden; there they all go, doing what they do, and all I can do is stand here, doing nothing, until I run out of energy and one of them has to help me. It's a miserable feeling. I start to get dizzy and a ringing fills my ears; I know I'm about to collapse, and there's nothing I can do about it. My legs crumple under me and I fall, waking up with a jerk as if I landed on the bed.

I try to counteract that feeling by doing little things. I help Tifa do the dishes. I have to stand on a box to do it, but at least I feel like I'm doing something to earn my keep. I carry things sometimes, help Cloud load or unload the car, little things like that. It feels good to do things. When I'm active, it makes me wonder why I sit around all day, thinking.

That brings me to why I'm doing this. Marlene came to me while I was sitting at a table by the window and struck up a conversation. It took me by surprise; mostly they leave me alone when I'm staring off into space like that.

"Hi, Shelke."

"Hi, Marlene."

"Whatcha thinking about?"

I shrugged. "A lot of things..." I started to blush. "It's sort of complicated."

Marlene nodded seriously. "Tifa figured you'd say something like that. So we bought you this." She held out a purple notebook, with a label on the front that said **Shelke's Diary** in large bubble letters that appeared to have been written with an orange hi-lighter. The letters were surrounded by little flowers and stars, in pink and green highlighter respectively. A mechanical pencil, also purple, was tucked in between the pages.

"Yuffie made the tag on the front. Isn't it great?" Marlene grinned. "Anyway, we wanted you to have it."

"...Thank you. What... what is it for, exactly?" The term "diary" rang a bell, but it was clearly something I hadn't thought about in a long time.

"It's... well... it's a diary," Marlene said, looking a little puzzled. "I have one too. It's like... It's somewhere you can write things down, like stuff that happened during the day that you want to remember, or things that made you upset, or things you don't want to tell anybody. We figured you've got a lot to think about, with everything that's happened, so maybe this would make it easier. 'Cause this way, you can write everything down that you're thinking, so you can do all your thinking at once, see?"

I looked down at the diary, then back up at Marlene. She looked a little embarrassed.

"I'm not sure if that makes any sense... But anyway, we all care about you, so we hoped this would cheer you up. Enjoy!" She gave me a big hug and then ran away before I could thank her.

I understand things a little better now. They wanted me to know that I'm not a burden - I'm a friend.

I have friends now. It's a feeling I don't quite understand yet. But maybe they can help me figure out just who I am. Maybe I don't have to be shy. Maybe I can... count on them to be patient with me.

I hope I dream a little better tonight.

Thanks, Marlene. I owe you one.