Hi! This is the first the many interludes that will be included in this story, a pause designed to explain Videl's character and motives. This was originally a one-shot but I felt like it just belonged to this story. The next chapter will continue with Gohan and Videl again until the next interlude.
Honesty.
One of the most valuable things in life, but which we always screw up. With no exception – aside from children with their magical ability to always speak the truth – every human being is dishonest to himself and to others. And you may think that you aren't, but this is a fact: no human being is completely honest. Not one. Whether we're cheating on the ones we love or telling a little lie to save the situation, dishonesty is universal. And that is hypocritical, because aren't we always saying that lying is a sin? And yet we all do it. Yes, but lying is 'allowed under certain circumstances', like in situations of war, or in politics, or in a society where there is no freedom of speech at all. And there are conditions as well. Lying is completely justified to protect the ones you love. Then it is even honorable. But still, who decides which lying is bad and which lying is permissible? When no one is harmed by the lie? When it's for a good cause? Or is lying a sin at all times?
Of course, people will say that lying is something different than dishonesty. Dishonesty doesn't necessarily mean lying, is what they actually say. It could be that dishonesty is just keeping your silence. Not telling the one you love what's really bothering you about him. Not telling a friend that her old hair looked better than her new. Not telling your teacher that he may have made a mistake. Not saying that you think the woman behind the counter gave you too little exchange back. Keeping silence is what people do all the time. Because they don't want to hurt, because they don't stand up for themselves, because they think they'll look like an idiot, because they aren't sure. This is not wrong or right, it's understandable. Everyone can relate to it, and therefore it is not labeled as 'wrong'. But then, keeping your silence is hiding the truth. And that is also a form of lying.
Conclusion: every human lies.
Therefore: lying is human.
So: lying is universal.
If you continue this experiment, you could also say that lying is wrong and thus every human being is wrong, but that goes too far in my opinion. I am too one of the ones who think that lying is allowed under certain circumstances and with certain conditions.
But fact remains, people are dishonest. Some might feel offended by that accusation, but please… Look in the mirror and say to yourself 'I am always and under any circumstance completely honest. I am always telling the truth.'
Can you say that to yourself?
Dishonesty…
…Not that this is necessarily a bad thing. Truth to be told, I don't even think I would like a person who is completely honest, if such a person exists at all. But let's just assume that he does. And with everything that you do, he tells you his opinion, he tells you what's on his mind, he tells you that what you're doing could be done better this or that way, he tells you what he thinks. Always. I would think this person is the most insufferable person in the world! Forget honesty, forget wrong or right, someone who always comments on everything is just plain annoying, whether he's being sincere or not.
The truth can be so infuriating sometimes.
But perhaps, if I look at it another way, I could take it from a person who is always honest in a way that I can understand their motives – and then I'm talking about people who don't just have their opinion ready, how truthful that opinion may be, but about people who explain how they came to those opinions, supported by strong arguments, of which I know and understand where they're coming from. Not agreeing with them perhaps, but at least comprehending them. That it's not about what they say, but how they say it.
That it's about how they bring the truth to my conscience.
Even still, it wouldn't change that I'd think it's annoying when someone comments on everything, no matter how they bring it. I wouldn't find that person annoying, just the fact that he… does it. An opinion, a comment, a remark… that is honest, that is the truth… is often taken as critique. And no one likes to be criticized.
So basically, I think that people should have some boundaries. They should consider others when being honest and know there is a time to talk, and a time to shut up. And fortunately, most people have those boundaries. Most of us are wise enough to recognize those situation when honesty is simply not helping anyone, is not changing anything but when it's only harming and hurting. Like finally deciding to be honest and saying you want to break up with your fiancé between your wedding vows and the 'I do'. It's a pretty dramatic way to call off your wedding and it's the perfect anecdote on a party, but you just can't do that. If you have any respect for your would-be spouse, you don't do that, even though it happens in the movies. Before the wedding day, or after, but not on it. Or another example: Saying to a grieving woman who just lost her husband: 'I'm glad he died, your husband was such an asshole.' It might be true, he might be the biggest asshole ever to walk the surface of the earth, you probably hated him and it's your right to have your opinions, but at that moment, being honest is just not the right time.
There's a time and place for everything, and that includes honesty. That's actually what I am trying to say.
But someone who doesn't acknowledge that fact, someone who always speaks his mind, whose opinions are more judgments than anything else, who can't keep a single thought to himself, is found annoying, cruel, aggravating, unsympathetic, insensitive and is generally disliked. Not that he doesn't have the right to tell what he thinks. Of course he does, we live in a free country after all and everyone has the right of freedom of speech. But he could also do it another way. Telling the truth when necessary and leaving his opinions to himself when not asked… or better yet, when not relevant. This is what most people are like, because they are reluctant to hurt someone with their honesty. Because no matter how you put it, the truth can hurt. And though everyone is allowed to tell the truth, I won't sympathize with the ones who would take any opportunity to speak their mind with no regard to other people's feelings. No matter freedom of speech, I have the right to feel insulted when someone hurts me unnecessarily, even if he does it with honesty.
But we also have another right, fortunately. And that's the right of having our own opinions. No one can take that away from us. We can think whatever we want. No one can tell me what to think. I can have my opinions just as the person next to me can have his and the person next to him and so on and etcetera. Someone can tell me that he hates me, that I'm the worst person imaginable, that I'm a spoiled brat, that I am stupid, that I am selfish and egoistical and walk this earth entirely undeserved, that I will burn in hell, that he wished I'd suffer a long and terrible death, that is his opinion, but it will be my opinion that I wouldn't like that person. And some people might say that it's unfair to have a judgment of someone based on his opinions and his opinions, that his not liking me is not a reason for me not to like him, that I am a hypocrite, but when someone says all the terrible things I mentioned above to me, it is just not nice. He is allowed to have his own opinions, but my opinion is that it's disrespectful and demeaning to say those particular kind of thoughts in my face and therefore I do not like him.
As the most brutally honest person is being brutally honest to me, I can choose not to like him, I can choose to find him not a very agreeable person.
It is not that I find honesty a bad thing. Not at all and if you got that impression from my fiery arguments above, then I will immediately tell you that honesty is one of the most valuable things in the world. Without honesty there would be no change of anything, there would be corruption, there would be fear and abuse of power, there would be superficial relationships, there would be silent hatred, there would be no profound dialogue, or pure science, or objective history, or challenging literature. Without honesty there would be no advance in anything, because no one would ever learn from his mistakes. He wouldn't acknowledge them, after all, own them. Without honesty, there wouldn't be people like Copernicus, Galilei, Newton, Darwin, Einstein, every scientist whose discoveries shook the very fundaments of the earth. Who held a mirror in front of our face and made us recognize that there were truths about this world that we never dreamed possible. Without honesty there wouldn't be people like Jesus, Muhammad, Buddha, Confucius, Aristotle, Shakespeare, Marx, Smith, people whose visions changed the world socially, religiously, spiritually, morally, economically, politically and every other –ly you can think of. What would the world have looked like without the revolutionaries that were honest enough to voice their opinions and recognized their society needed to change?
What if people that changed the general thinking hadn't stepped up and voiced their beliefs because they were afraid to be labeled as fanatics, lunatics, fantasts, extremists, fundamentalists?
Without honesty, without truth, what would mankind be at all?
I was only saying that there has to be a difference between a honesty that, when said, changes nothing positively, or at least, when the change doesn't have a long-term effect (if it has a short-term effect, why even bother?), when it is not relevant, and by that I mean not the right time and not the right place (telling a truth in the wrong situation is probably the worst thing to do when you want to change something successfully), when it has no purpose other than hurting people or venting of frustrations (did you notice that when people are frustrated they finally speak the truth in the vilest way possible? The frustration is out but certain things can be destroyed forever), and honesty that does change something positively, change does have a long-term effect, and that is relevant, with the right place and the right time, that has a purpose even though people can/could/may/might be hurt by it.
When honesty has not a single positive effect and when it could only break something that can't be mended, it is best to keep your silence and accept that the situation can't be altered by your own honesty.
But even though being honest and telling the truth has a long-term positive effect, when all the conditions are there to indicate it's the right place and time, and when it has a purpose, a lot of people keep their silence anyway. This has something to do with another ability of human being, to form an opinion about someone, and this is what most people dread when telling the truth. We're afraid of what others think, how they will think about us, what they will say about us. Strangely enough, this is the exact reason why we tell lies. We're so afraid of the opinion of others that we obscure the truth, leave details out, or don't tell the truth at all. And with every lie we tell, our fear for opinions will grow more and more. Apparently we value our own reputation, the esteem of other people, the approval of others, more than changing something by telling the truth and benefiting ourselves and others with that change.
We don't want to hurt people with our honesty, because we think that we won't be liked anymore. We think that we will be rejected because of the truth we tell. We think they will talk about us to other people, and we are afraid that others, some of them who don't even know us, think the things about us that we don't want them to think. We fear the reaction of other people. Reputation, image, approval, being liked, esteem and high regard are keywords in the lives of human beings. We think that those things are so important that we rather remain silent and live with a situation that can be changed, a change that could benefit not only yourself but also other people.
This is not cowardice.
This is human.
For a while now, I have difficulty being honest, telling the truth. A certain truth that's governing my life at the moment. And I will explain you why. I will put a mirror in front of my face and acknowledge my own mistake, and my own faults and I will say to myself 'this is me, this is my problem, these are my faults.'
Complete honesty to you and to myself.
I will try to explain my motives for as far as possible. I hope you will understand, though you may not agree with it. And I won't be expecting that either. And I won't be like those completely sincere people I mentioned above, who blurt out truths or opinions randomly, not caring about their relevance or the context or the feelings of others. However, honesty is what I shall achieve, because I do think it's a virtue in this situation… No, not a virtue. It's a goal.
Honesty is a goal.
And with that thought in the back of my head, I will proceed now.
This is about my father and his lies, his lies about what happened at the Cell Games, and me coping with those lies.
The situation I am in is this. I am caught up in a network of lies and deceit. Everything that I ever thought to be true, is I lie created by my father. The reputation I have, the money on my account, the house I live in, the friends I like and don't, the bed I'm sleeping, the butler I adore, the maid I care for, even this computer I'm using… every aspect in my life is connected to my father and his lies. Everything I have and own, everything that is so natural to me, is attained by scam. Falsities. Deceit.
Do you know what it feels like to eat food that is bought by money unfairly earned?
Or to live in a house whose foundations rest on fraud and deception?
Or to live in so much wealth and richness at the expense of others?
Everything around me reminds me that my life is based on mendacity, every morning I wake up with the thought that someone else ought to be living the life that's mine. That I am supposed to be someone else, and that someone else is supposed to be me, that I have an alternate role in this world, not being the Videl Satan that I am, but the Videl Satan that I never was, daughter of a simple man making his living in an honest way, instead of the daughter of a crook, stealing the credit from those it belongs to and that being his profession.
It's driving me mad. The knowledge that all that was ever trusted by me and all that I've ever known, all that was familiar for me, all that I've ever believed in, all that has been good and pleasant and loved, the truth in my life, was never existing at all…
…is slowly making me lose my sanity.
When I found out about my fathers lies, I was devastated. The world around me fell apart, crumbling down because all I thought it was based on was never there in the first place. And there, in the shattered world of my life, in the broken ruins of my childhood, I retreated in the darkest corner and licked my wounds, slowly mending from the shock, the destruction, the hurt that took my childish innocence away from me. When I finally grasped what I found out, what impact this had on me and would have on the world, when I oversaw all that had been confusing me, I knew that the days of my youth were over.
My father, the light of my life, the hope in my heart, my example, my hero, my only parent, destroyed my purity the day I found out the truth about him. If I couldn't rely on my father, who else could I rely on in this world? If my father lied to everyone, why wouldn't he lie to me as well?
If you trust someone completely, and if that someone betrays your trust, it is one of the most painful things imaginable. It's betrayal… and that hurts to the bone. It infects the heart with raw feelings like anger and hatred.
Your parents are your role models when you are young. My father was my role model. Imagine what it means to find out your father has done all the things you were taught never to do.
Never lie, never steal, never cheat, never hurt, never pretend to be something you're not, never use others, never deceive, never do the things you don't want others to do to you.
I tried to look at my father without his cheat. Behavior and personality are two different things. I tried to make myself believe that my father was not a bad person but that he just made some really bad mistakes. But I couldn't. His behavior was him, I couldn't imagine him without it. He wasn't him when he didn't act the way he did. So in my book, his cheating and lying and his scam was, in fact, him. Hercule Satan. I couldn't look at him without seeing that. Was he's done was part of his personality. It came from his hunger for fame and wealth and the thirst to be the best there is. From the absence of any sense of honor in his being, his indifference towards the feelings of others, the fact that he just didn't care and honestly believed that he could get away with it.
The trust is gone.
The admiration is gone.
The respect is gone.
There is loathing. A lot of loathing that sometimes borders to hate.
He destroyed a lot in me. Not only has he taken away my purity and my innocence, but also my trust in people. I am not lying when I say I'm afraid of others. Afraid that they come too close and wreck my heart all over again. The few friendships I have are superficial, because I just can't let them come too close. I have to protect myself. Built high walls around my heart. Allowing no one in.
I told this to some of the ones I care for. Of course not about the treachery of my father, that I will not tell anyone (I will come back to this later on). I've explained it with my mother's death, that I loved her so much that when she died I was afraid to love someone that much again, which is true by the way. They understand this and fortunately respect it and have given up trying to change me.
Some people who don't know why I am like this think I'm cold, snobbish, arrogant and distant. I don't like it when people think of me that way, but I've accepted it. I can even understand it a bit, because I am an uncommonly unkind person. I wouldn't like myself either if I met me. But so be it, I guess. This is the product of all that's happened to me.
The anger towards my father is still there though. It's never gone away actually. I am angry for what he's done, for stealing the honor from the real heroes and lying about it as well. But also for making me part of his lies, for the name I hold, for the blood bond we share. I'm ashamed of it. Ashamed of my own father…
…ashamed of the life I'm living, the life that isn't mine.
There are days that I want to tell the truth about my father. To reveal his deception to the world and to finally end this life of being 'the daughter of Hercule Satan, hero and savior of the world'. But if I tell the truth, the honest truth, about my father, about the falsities he's spread about his victory, about him taking credit for all the things he hasn't done, about him lying whenever he opens his mouth, even to me, about everything, this would have serious consequences. If I tell, I will doom him, myself, the rest of the family and my descendants to a life of shame forever. Like Hitler has damned his descendants for as long as the Second World War is remembered by humans, which is forever. My father would go into history as one of the biggest frauds ever lived, someone who deceived the whole world, and his cowardice will always be remembered.
I can't betray my father. I just can't. Not only for him, but also for myself. For my children. For the children of my children. For all the ones carrying the name Satan. It would be like condemning them for an eternity to the humiliation and the embarrassment my father has brought onto the family. Cursing them with the name of my family. Satan is the most famous name in the world. What would happen if it would become the most infamous?
So to protect the honor of my family, to protect my own honor, I kept my secrets, in the knowledge that I probably could uncover the biggest scam ever recorded in human history. And I do admit now, that I truly am afraid of what other people might think of me if they know the truth. That makes me just as every other human being who fears rejection. He's my father, I carry his name, and though I'm not the one who cheated on the whole world, I am always associated with the ones who have the same family name as I do. And I don't want to be associated with sham and lies and deception. I don't want to be shunned and loathed because of what my father did. I want to spare myself that pain, I want to spare my family that pain, and my descendants.
This is why I'm not telling.
No, I'm not being honest to myself right now. As I'm writing this, I know that all I've wrote is only a half truth. And a half truth is a lie as well. I decided to be completely honest when I started this and that also requires me to be honest to myself. To look in the mirror and see the truth, acknowledge it's there and not denying its existence.
And the truth is… Yes I am afraid of what other people might say and think of me if I uncovered my father's scam. Of course. I'm only human and every human is afraid of the judgments of others. But this is not prevalent for me in deciding whether or not to reveal the actual truth. The real reason is…
He's my father. And I still love him, even though the love is so, so hidden. I hate him. I love him. I hate to love him. But I do. What kind of daughter would I be if I betrayed my father and sold him out to the rest of the world? What would my mother have thought of that?
Family relationships are complicated. The blood bond always creates the expectation that you have to be loyal to one another. Most people don't see this as a burden, because generally not many families expect the impossible of the members. The only thing they ask is not to break the bonds of family. This is natural, only in my family even this is an expectation almost too high to meet. Being loyal to my father and not cut him off is becoming more difficult each day. He is forgetting me slowly, we're getting more and more alienated from each other. We're becoming strangers, sharing the same house, the same blood bond, the same name, but nevertheless strangers. And as he's forgetting me, I am gradually forgetting why I don't break the family bonds. The only thing that reminds me is the thought of my beloved mother. That startles me. Apparently the only reason I'm remaining loyal to my father is my deceased mother, and what she would have said and thought if I gave up on him. I realize now what that means. I would have betrayed my father long ago if it wasn't for the love for my mother. Which means that I have no loyalty towards my father at all. I wouldn't have cared about the blood bond I share with my father, I wouldn't have cared about being his daughter, I wouldn't have cared about his blood that runs through my veins, forget about that!
It's my mother, and the love my mother shared with my father that governs me.
This is the truth.
This is it.
I'm not betraying her.
That's my decision.
But even though I already decided, I often wonder if it's wrong to keep my silence. To protect my family name at the expense of others. And by others I mean both the ones who really saved the day that fatal day the Cell Games took place, and… everyone actually, for not having the chance to honor the true heroes that rescued them. Ensuring the benefit of my family and not that of the greater good… I could change the world with the information I have, and it would be a positive, long-term change, that might hurt people in the beginning, since my father was loved and admired, and would cause for an enormous shock that would go around the whole world, but it would be the right thing to do. The honor wouldn't be going anymore to the person who doesn't deserve it. It would be the right time and place too, because there have been speculations about whether or not my father was the one who finished off Cell. There are hundreds of websites that deny my father was the one who saved us all, mankind isn't entirely stupid. But there are only very few people that believe the stories of the disbelievers.
What does that make of me? Not telling the truth when I know it would be the right thing? Am I selfish? Yes, I probably am. Especially to the one who really did beat Cell, who deserves the honor that has been taken from him. Especially for all the ones that died on that battle field, defending the world from the purest kind of evil. For those who didn't get the recognition they ought to have, my silence is selfish. For all the others who don't know what's happened on that battle field… what they don't know can't harm them. Even if it is wrong to withhold the facts from them.
But all these years that I knew about the truth, the truth that revealed itself to me when I was old and wise enough to question my father, I always had the feeling that not telling the truth…
… was also a form of lying. And lying is bad.
The knowledge I could end the con any time by just opening my mouth and exposing my father and his cheating to the world, and by that bringing justice upon him, has been eating my conscience over the last few years. I desperately wanted to tell the truth, just to get it out sometime, but I had the feeling I couldn't trust it with anyone. Everyone I knew, knew my father personally, after all. They adored my father. Admired my father… Loved my father. He was a deity, a cult, a hero. Would they take his side and tell me I was a liar? Simply not believe me when I say that my father, the great Mr. Satan, didn't even beat Cell? I don't know, and I don't want to either.
And now I come to the moment in which it all changes. Now I suddenly have the opportunity to tell someone my secrets, to share this with another human being, someone who might understand, or at least listen. And I found this in the stranger in front of me who didn't know me and couldn't betray my trust because what would he gain from that? He didn't know I was Videl Satan. That I could just see, he didn't recognize me.
Of course I had to edit the truth. Leave out things such as names and vital information that would reveal everything. But it didn't matter. Most important was that I could tell someone what's been on my chest for years. I longed to tell, to come clean.
It's strange. We are most afraid to be honest to the people we love the dearest. To tell what's on your chest seems more difficult with someone when you are emotionally connected than when you tell a person who you hardly or don't know, who is a complete stranger to you. Perhaps that's why shrinks are so popular. It is easy to talk about your issues when you have nothing to lose. When you have no one to hurt. When you can just walk out the door and say 'ah, glad I got that off my chest', without any strings attaches to the end of the tale.
You can close the last chapter, without someone reminding you of it afterwards.
This stranger wouldn't be my shrink, and I wouldn't find closure when I told him about the issues in depths of my heart. I knew that, I expected that. But talking and someone listening, someone with whom you have no connection or responsibilities, is a solace.
I wanted to tell at last.
Finally.
And so I told.
For as much as I could be, I was honest.
Thanks for reading! Reactions are much appreciated!
