I'm Nobody
[A/N: This is another lil' character monologue, in Character Sketches from the POV of a girl who's father is a Controller, an' mother's dead. Yes, this was spurred on by Psychomorph's Bitter Is The Flesh That Weeps, so any similarities are NOT coincidental. I suggest you go read that story, because it was VERY well written. Anyhow, hope you enjoy.]
My name is . . . . I don't have a name.
I'm nobody.
I never had a name.
No, I take that back. I had a name once. I did.
I was . . . . who was I, anyway?
Natalie. Yes, that was my name. I think.
It's hard to remember.
Can't . . . . you never talked to me. You ignore me.
You don't love me anymore.
Oh, sure, sugarcoat it. Say it's not true, Daddy.
But it is.
You said you loved me.
It was all a lie.
You said you'd never leave me alone, Daddy. After Mommy died, and you used to push me on the swings, you told me you'd never leave me alone.
And then, of course, you left me alone.
You dumped me for that group, The Sharing.
You give me that absent smile, and walk away.
Why don't you love me anymore?
I don't understand, Daddy. What did I do?
What did I do wrong?
Why don't you love me anymore?
No.
Why can't you love me anymore?
What did I do, that made you want to see The Sharing instead of me?
I know I'm not Mommy. I know all that. I'm just a kid.
But why can't you see me? See your daughter?
I mean, you smile at me, all that. But it's not real. It's like I'm just one of your friends from work. Not like I'm your daughter, or your "sweetie".
Not like that at all.
What did I do wrong, Daddy?
What did I do?
What did I do?
I try everything. I smile at you. I spend hours studying, so I can make perfect grades.
When I take piano, I practice until my fingers are sore and red, just so you'll notice me. So maybe, you'll actually look at me at my recital.
It doesn't work.
You don't . . . . I don't get it.
I've tried everything.
Why aren't I good enough for you? Why, Daddy?
Oh, sure, give me that smile. Say I'll always be your daughter, your precious, your jewel, all that.
Am I? Do you treat me like one?
No.
Nothing for me to do now, Daddy.
Cry in bed. Hug Teddy. Nurse my fingers, red from hours of practicing piano. Try . . . . try to figure out what I did wrong.
Try to figure out why you no longer love me.
Who am I now, Daddy?
I'm nobody.
No one.
I don't have a name.
I'm not sure if I ever had one.
Maybe I had one once. But I've forgotten it, if I ever did.
I'm nobody.
[A/N: Well? Liked it, loved it, hated it? Send any and all replies to me at anifuture@hotmail.com. And take a look at my webpage, at http://anifuture.hypermart.net.]