Who are you?

I once thought I knew.

Now I know for sure. You aren't who I thought you were.

But I can't know who you are. You don't know who you are. You live your life, lost little child, crying in the bodies of different people, different men, different beasts.

You do not seem to realize that regardless of which form you select, you will always be the same man inside.

Which is why what you did frightens me.

Whether you're Sandy or Reverend Lazarus or Nickie or whoever else you may be, will you still hold the bitter anger inside of you that allowed you to raise your hand to me?

That's why I ran. Not because I was mad at you. Not because I hated you. Not even because of the hit itself.

I ran because I'm afraid you may do it again. I'm afraid that you may lack the inner strength to stop the hand from rising. Whether times are good or bad, you will always have that residual anger inside of yourself.

I once thought that you could control anything. But now I know for sure that you cannot.

And this frightens me more than life and death itself. I knew that the government had killed something inside of you. But I thought they left your spirit in tact.

I guess I was wrong.

*

I have plenty of time to think now.

I'm here because of you, you know. They want me to tempt you. To tease you.

Stay strong, Nickie. Stay strong, Sandy. Whoever you are, stay strong. Don't give in.

If you don't give in, then I'll know for sure that you are stronger than your hand. That you are capable of having inner strength. That you are capable of the beauty that I saw in you that first day, the beauty that disappeared that last day.

The beauty of strength and independence cannot be bought or sold. They cannot be grown, but they can be nurtured. They can be further developed, but if they are not in you when you are born, they never will be.

I saw them in you once. I know that you can still have them.

But I also saw them die in you.

You can rejuvenate them. It is not too hard.

I know it must be hard seeing me like this. It sure is hard being like this, naked, hairless, tortured.

I'm even a little angry, too. Mostly at the government, but a bit at you, too. It's your fault that I'm here. I've tried to neglect the truth, but it still exists. If I never met you, I would never be here; my life would be more normal.

But who wants normal? So plain. So monotonous.

Stay strong. I know I can. I know I am. I am not weak. I have power. I can suppress and control my anger toward you. I am strong enough to do that. I can live with the pain. I am more than strong enough to do that.

So now it is up to you, Nickie. You and your inner beauty.

I saw it in you before. Don't let me down now, not when I need you the most.