This piece began as a compare and contrast essay in my English class. I'm incredibly happy with how well it turned out. (I got an "A" by the way.)
It was just a mask. You could buy on at any city in the world. A blue mask with a grotesque face.
And yet...
Putting the mask on gave him a sense of power. Any deeds (or misdeeds) would all be chalked up to someone else. An unknown terror, hiding in the dark alleyways of the Impenetrable City, keeping the residents on their toes. Nothing at all like the face behind the mask, a face burned and scarred by the fires of hatred, banished, sent on an impossible quest to obtain what should have rightfully been his. He might as well chase the moon or the wind for all the good it would do him.
But when the mask was on...
He became an entirely different person. He didn't have to be anything. He didn't have to chase anything. A broadsword in each hand, he stole away into the night to do whatever he needed to do, whether it was springing someone from jail or stealing a tea set for his uncle. But his uncle would never accept it, no matter his obsession for tea. So he returned it. His uncle's (and often his own) sense of justice tended to nullify the sense of power the mask brought.
There were many days since the fall of Ba Sing Se that he wished he'd never thrown the mask down to the bottom of Lake Laogai, even though he knew it wouldn't do him a bit of good. It just would have been a little comforting to have something to hide behind and forget about the choices he made. But what's done is done. He blew out the single candle sitting near the window and crawled into bed. As he drifted into sleep, he used the last of his conscious thought to ponder whether or not they served tea in hell.
I own nothing. -SilverInkblot