The Reason

We all start out innocent.

A tiny new born that knew only of the world within it's mothers womb. There, we were safe. Protected… blind. We knew not of hunger, of love, not even of pain or fear. It became the shelter for the first part of a long journey, a place to draw upon strength and prepare for what lay ahead. Given the choice, that's where I would choose to be right now. Because the moment we're brought into this world, we're innocents no longer.

We become monsters.

Perhaps I should start from the beginning. I believe it was nearly five years ago, before the complete infestation of earth, before the terrible war that plagued the galaxy and still does to this very day. The sun still shone back then. The grass was still green and the air was still breathable. People still roamed the streets, from the early morning to late at night, going about their daily business and doing the same mindless tasks over and over again like some recording in constant flow.

I was about fourteen then, my mind still reeling from the sudden disappearance of my parents. Maybe that's the wrong way to put it. It goes more along the lines of, my, our parents who ruthlessly abandoned us for a better life. But even though I was mad, one had to understand their side of the story. My mum was only sixteen when she had me. She was still in high school working towards a prosperous future while my father, a freshman in college, took a job to help support his then pregnant fiancée. Two months before my mother was scheduled to give birth, they skipped town.

She never finished school, never graduated. Never went onto university to earn her Master's degree along with the rest of her friends. Instead, she was dragged all the way to Cincinnati where the both of them struggled to pay rent, buy food, and of course, provide for me. Three years later they had Sam, and life became increasingly difficult. I guess that after twelve years of that, they were no longer able to cope.

So they left us, my sister and I. And worst yet, they had left us with nothing. No family, no contacts - no where to turn to except the police who didn't even give a damn. We spent the first few months sleeping in an abandoned building, scavenging for food wherever possible then puking our guts out later on when it didn't agree with our stomachs. Once Sam had a case of indigestion so bad I considered taking her to the doctor. But we were still minors, so the doctor would mean the police, and the police would ultimately mean handing ourselves over to some foster parents until our real ones could be found.

I didn't want that. I didn't want to go back to them and have to live out my life with people that I knew didn't love me or care for me. Maybe that's being pretty harsh, but that's the way I felt at the time. My sister was all I had left, and there was no way in hell I was going to lose her too.

Eventually we grew accustomed to our life on the streets, though I felt guilty of denying Sam an education - of a normal life filled with friends and laughter, and happiness. The guilt weighed down on my shoulders like a tremendous load, and any moment then I felt as though I was going to fall. Fall from the pressure, the stress… it got to a point where I couldn't take it. Where all the emotions I had kept bottled up for so long rose to the surface and revealed it's ugly head.

I was so scared and lonely. The brave front I had kept up, for Sam's sake, but running through the woods late at night I realized Sam was there no longer. So naturally, I broke down and cried.

That's where I met her, out there in the woods. Or should I say, him.

She had walked out of the thick foliage and reached for my hand.

"It's alright." She kept saying, like a mother would to a child.

"It's alright."

I told her everything. Everything that had happened since my parents left us. She had looked on in sympathy, stroked my hair. It felt good. For the first time in a long time, I felt safe. Even though it was sitting there on the moist earth hugging a woman that I barely even knew, it felt good. She told me that her name was Aria, and that she'd do everything in her power to help me. I pleaded for her not to go to the police, and she said she wouldn't. Then she offered me what I can only describe now as hope. But with everything, even something as undefined as hope, comes a price. I think she was taking a risk telling me what she did, but she did so anyway, and what I learned that night changed my life forever.

As the sun rose the next morning I sat and watched Sam's sleeping face from the shadows, not wanting her to realize I was there. She deserved so much more than what I could give her. She deserved what no one could give her. And ultimately, I think that's what convinced me I had made the right decision.

I have long since stopped caring. It's a useless human emotion that makes one weak, defenseless against tyrants that would sooner over run them. I didn't understand it at first, after I was infested, but soon hard embittered feelings grew within me, and soon I was able to become one with the Yeerk inside my head. I never once protested to anything it did. In fact, I helped it, voicing my opinions at times during battle. Because of that I rarely think of Sam now. The Yeerk allows me to visit the compound periodically, to check on her, but as of late it's became a rather mundane chore and I've debated stopping it entirely. So far, I haven't yet.

She and all the other relatives of the 'voluntary hosts' remain safe in that compound. They're not allowed to be infested for it's strictly forbidden. It was the result of a pact that all of us made with the Yeerk empire before we swore our loyalty to it. But sometimes, looking at Sam, I think she'd rather be dead.

My Yeerk made me into a fine warrior. I've often fought alongside the Hork Bajir, and have forged good relations with many of my fellow comrades. They're my family now, my only family. They'd easily give up their life for me as I for theirs. The Yeerks were able to give me security in my life. They gave my life meaning. For that, I will be forever grateful.

The Andalite bandits had become the most famous criminals ever, in the empire. To bring one to justice would mean the promotion to a Sub-Visser. The murder of one would mean the promotion to Visser at possibly, the highest level. You see, I had a chance to kill one of the Andalite bandits. But ironically enough, I wasn't a killer. And neither was my Yeerk.

As I tell you this story I'm sitting in front of the television set pretending to watch a program about a cat and a dog. But really, I'm watching the Andalite bandit, who was discovered to have been human, getting ready to receive his Yeerk. It was a major break through, for not only had we captured a morph capable being, but we had also in our possession one of the resistance's greatest generals.

I think he can feel me staring at him, for he turns around and intercepts my gaze. I'm pretty sure that he knows I'm a voluntary host, and I know for certain that he's asking why.

Why? I smile secretly to myself, then blow him a kiss.

If he had asked me, I would've said 'Because there is no brighter tomorrow.' That's what every one of us are trained to say. But as for the real story… only you will ever know.