Title: Dream Diary
Rating: PG
Written by: Mistic (Misticlady)
misticlady@hotmail.com
Chapter 5 : The Diary
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
An hour later found Darien on the couch with
Serena's diary in hand, mind racing a mile a minute.
"She's been under my nose all this time. How
could I have been so blind?"
"Told you so," Heart taunted, rearing its "ugly"
head. "But no, you wouldn't listen to little ol' me. I'm too
dumb for the Great Earth Prince to listen to."
"Oh be quiet," Darien huffed mentally.
"So are you going to read it?"
"Wha—"
"The diary; are you going to read it?" Heart asked,
pointing with his mental hand toward the book that Darien
cradled so gently, "You already know who she is."
"But she doesn't know who we are," Logic
responded in a serious tone.
"So," Heart contested.
"So, Serena hates us—"
"No, she doesn't."
"Can you be so sure," Logic countered, seriously,
"She's never said a kind word to any of us."
"Neither have you," the heart countered, crossing
its mental arms once more in defiance. "All you ever do
is tease her."
"To keep Darien from getting hurt," logic replied in
an all important voice, "He can't let random females get
too close. You never know what they might do."
"Hey," Darien interjected, inexplicably angry at
Logic.
"Well it's true," Logic replied with an innocent
shrug, "You don't know what she's after."
"Don't talk about Serenity like that," Heart cried
outraged, "She was never like that, and I can't believe
that Serena would be either."
"Ah, but you are far too trusting."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too. Are too. Are too."
"Am not. Am not. Am not."
"Stop it you two!" Darien roared mentally, "We
don't even know if Serena knows that she is Serenity or
what she thinks about me—er--Endymion."
"There's one way to find out," Heart stated softly.
"I'm afraid I must concur," Logic conceded,
sheepishly.
"Ugghhh! You two are no help! I'm trying not to
invade Serena's privacy."
"But there's no other way." Heart whined, "There's
no way that Serena would tell you herself. She would
deny everything, and her friends are so fiercely protective
of her. They would never tell you what you need to
know."
"I hate to agree, but there is no other way," Logic
sighed, "If you really need to know what she thinks about
you—err that is—Endymion, you must read her diary. It's
the only way."
Darien gulped. He didn't want to open the book let
alone read it. He had no desire want to betray Serena's
trust or invade her privacy. However, his curiosity won
out, bringing with it the need to know. How did she feel
about him? Did she think of him as more than an enemy
or was her heart reserved for his alter ego alone and if it
was, could he be content with that?
"It's the only way… the only way… only way."
The words echoed in Darien's mind, driving him
insane with the incessant chant until finally he groaned in
defeat and gently lifted the cover, silently praying for
Serena's forgiveness.
"She's going to kill me."
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, June 30th,1988
Today is my tenth birthday, but no one is around to
remember. My mama is visiting with a sick friend back in
Tokyo, and Papa is too busy with work to visit. Sammy is
with Grandpa at the lake fishing, so they aren't around
either. Nana is the only one that remembered. She gave
me you, Dream Diary, and told me to write or draw my
dreams into your pages.
I guess you're my only friend well besides Nana—no one
else will listen to me. I used to be popular but then, a
while back, I got attacked. Some big bully that I had
never met before pushed me to the ground. Then he
laughed at me and called me "Moon Face" and "Meatball
Head" in front his friends. I got so angry I began to cry
and then something happened that I will never forget. A
light shot out of my forehead knocking the kid into a wall.
I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I was too frightened,
so I ran. I ran as fast as I could, not caring where I was
going. His shocked face followed me all the way home.
It still haunts me. Maybe if I draw it, I will finally be able
to forget.
~*~
"That's why she hates the name Meatball Head,"
Darien murmured down casting his eyes to the bottom of
the page. There, in the corner, a little picture of a boy
with dark hair and chocolate brown eyes was drawn. It
was little more than a stick figure, but the power with
which he carried himself was unimaginable for someone
so young. His features were a bit blurred do to the fact
that they had been drawn with a crayon, but his eyes
were arrogant, filled with hate. Serena had written the
words "Meatball Head" in bold, red letters next to the
boy's head, and his finger pointed accusingly at the
reader. From the slant of the lines and the color, one
could tell that the artist had been upset when they were
written—maybe even self loathing, but that was
impossible. Serena had only been 10; how—more
importantly--why did she hate herself?
Hoping for some answers, Darien turned the page,
but only found that the next entry was far more puzzling
than the last.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, July 10. 1988
I had that dream again—the one where I am running
through this strange place surrounded by dead bodies.
Blood soaks the ground, and a storm rages around me.
But there is no rain, only flashes of light and thunder—it
scares me. I've never seen anything like it before…
What does it mean? Where is this place? Why did
everyone die? It scares me so much that I can't sleep. I
was hoping that writing it down would help…
~*~
Confused, Darien turned the page, hoping that
Serena had written about her nightmare again, but she
hadn't. Instead, Serena had written about her growing
problems with staying awake in school.
"It's so boring," she wrote, "like I've learned it all
before. I'm not challenged and find myself falling asleep
in class because of it. Sometimes, I even find myself
doodling on my homework—unfortunately my teacher
doesn't take very kindly to half done homework that is
covered up with half finished palaces and faces. I never
can finish a drawing; it seems…"
Stunned, Darien turned the page only to be
confronted with another entry that read in almost the
exact same way. If fact, the next six entries spoke of little
else—only the half finished drawings steadily
transformed into finished drawings and neglected
homework. In fact, it wasn't until March of '89 that
Serena began to have the nightmare again.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 3th,1989
It happened again. That dream. Only this time, I saw
something—in the sky. It had red eyes—evil eyes—that
seemed to look straight through me. I-I hate those eyes;
greed seems to radiate from them. They haunt me even
now; maybe, maybe if I draw them I will be able to go
back to sleep…
~*~
Darien shuddered. The drawing was vivid. Red
eyes glared at him from seemingly nothingness. They
were disfigured—slanted—tight—there was no white to
them only a red iris and pitch-black pupil. Darien knew
those eyes, had seen them in his own dreams.
Metallia.
Darien trembled. He knew that name well. She
was the queen of darkness; a fallen guardian that had
become jealous of the Moon Kingdom's power. She
raped worlds, stripping them of their power and twisting
their people into shadows of her evil. She fed off the evil
that lives in the hearts of man and other species before
that. She would stop at nothing to dominate the
universe—nothing.
Again, Darien turned the page, but he found it to
be blank—or so he thought. In the corner, very faintly
drawn, was the outline of a fairy. She had wings of silver
and a dress of white. Her features were obscured save
one—a golden crescent moon turned on its side graced
her forehead. The royal hairstyle of the Moon had been
faintly outlined, but nothing else was written on the
page—no explanation, nothing.
After that page, Serena stopped mentioning her
nightmares and her pictures were no longer of the past.
Instead, her diary entries tuned to a happier note and
focused on school and Serena's steadily growing circle of
friends. The demons of the prior year seemed to have
vanished.
That is, until this year…
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 2, 1992
Oh, God! The dreams are back. Only this time, they are
so vivid I can hardly contain my fear… Those eyes, they
chill me; evil, that's what they are, pure evil. God, why is
this happening to me? Why am I dreaming of this
again… I-I don't want to dream about their deaths
again… Those poor, poor girls; those poor people; why
did they have to die? Why was everything destroyed?
That man, his eyes so full of pain and love; how could he
have died in my arms? Why did I take my own life? That
laugh, it haunts me even now. Why, oh God, why?
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 3, 1992
My life was turned upside down today. I saved a cat from
a bunch of bullies on my way to school this morning.
They had plastered a band-aide to the poor creature's
forehead in order to hide a golden crescent moon—
similar to the one that I have been trying to hide since
that terrible day four years ago… I wonder what it
means…
Okay, how can a cat talk?????? I have no idea but that
cat tracked me down tonight and told me that I am—and I
quote—"The Champion of Justice—the soldier of the
Moon." Then get this—she giggled, did a back-flip and
gave me a broach—a very pretty broach—but a broach
nonetheless. Then she told me to say, "Moon Prism
Power."
What is a Moon Prism? I have no idea, but for some
strange reason, my clothes faded away only to be
replaced by a sailor suit of red, white, and blue—I felt like
an American flag for bloody sake! Then if that wasn't bad
enough, I turned around and discovered that the skirt
was so short it showed my underwear!!!! I would have
been so mortified if I had had the chance. However, I got
called to save Molly from a monster—none too gracefully
I might add.
Tuxedo Mask—ahhh, he' s so handsome, familiar almost.
I felt like we had met before and for the briefest moment,
I thought I saw his beautiful eyes from all the way across
the room. They were sapphire, like the ring my mother
wears—and had silver flecks that glistened in the
moonlight… I've seen those eyes before--in my
dreams—before I drew the fairy. I wonder who he is…
Looks like that cute guy I met this afternoon—the one
that called me "Meatball Head." Why do all the good
looking ones have to be so mean? I don't get it. They all
treat me like crud and call me names. But why, oh why,
is it always "Meatball Head????"
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 4, 1992
I saw him again. That guy from yesterday; only this time
he seemed vaguely familiar like a figure from a dream. I
saw his eyes, they were sapphire pools of confusion and
pain. I think he recognized something in me just I did
him, but I cannot be sure. However, he started calling
me "Meatball Head" again, and I forgot all about his
bewitching eyes.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 10, 1992
Oh, God! Not again! Why is this happening to me? Why
am I dreaming of this again… I-I don't want to dream
about their deaths again… Watch out! Mercury! Mars!
Those men are about to kill you—but it's too late they
have fallen… They can't die. They just can't! And the
other two, the orange and green suited, they died too.
Why, why does this keep happening? Why? God, why?
Why must I relive their deaths every night in my dreams?
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 5, 1992
Why does Darien always have to be right? Why can't he
ever be wrong. Take modeling for instance, I could never
measure up to those other girls, but he made me so mad;
I just had to go. But why did I even feel the need to
prove him wrong? Why did I put myself in danger yet
again to prove myself worthy in his eyes. It's no use; he'll
never see me for me. And yet, I keep trying in hopes that
one day he will know how much his opinion matters to
me. But why? Why does his opinion matter; it shouldn't,
and yet, it does. It means a great deal to me.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 7, 1992
Tonight, I attended my first ball. It was spectacular; the
decorations were fabulous and dainty. The dance floor
was huge and crystal chandeliers made it shimmer with
vibrant life, yet I wasn't there for pleasure. No, Luna
thought Princess D might be the Moon Princess, so I
went to "investigate." What I found was not the Supreme
Ruler of the Universe; instead, I found a frightened young
girl that had been possessed by one of Nephrite's
minions.
Princess D was a short pudgy little creature with freckles
and huge coke-bottle glasses. She had no grace, no
confidence. In fact, she hired a double to take her place.
When she heard Luna talk for the first time, she
screamed and fainted. She definitely was not our
princess.
I wish I could say I was surprised, but I wasn't. A part of
me knew all along that Princess D was not our girl—I
was—am—whatever the case may be… How? I don't
know. All I know is that when I passed out in Tuxedo
Mask's arms, his stolen kiss combined with the
champagne opened the floodgates of my memory and
yet, the images are so hazy. I can hardly understand
anything they are trying to tell me. All I know is that I am
this princess that everyone is searching for, and she was
never meant to be a warrior.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 20, 1992
God, why couldn't Molly believe me when I told her
Nephrite was evil? Why did I have to be such a coward
in telling her; I never should have run off after dropping
that load on her. I should have stayed to explain; if I had,
then none of this would have ever happened. Molly
would not have been in danger of dying, and she would
have never witnessed Nephrite's death.
To be honest, it was Jupiter that should have held
Nephrite as he died not Molly. Jupiter was his soul mate,
his one true love before the darkness corrupted him. She
should have been the one to set his spirit free, but now,
his spirit will be trapped forever in limbo, cursed to watch
over Endymion and his love for all eternity as tribute for
the pain he caused them. And all because Jupiter could
not forgive him before he died; now, Nephrite will never
know her love again…
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 25, 1992
Today, I nearly got run over by a car! I was so
preoccupied with my thoughts that I never noticed when I
walked out into the middle of the street! Yikes! But then,
this Amazon came out of nowhere and pushed me out of
the way. Then, as if that wasn't it enough, we discovered
that she's really Jupiter—one of my best friends. I must
say not much has changed in the last thousand years.
She's just as though as ever, and her heart is still in her
eyes. Same old Jupiter.
Tonight, besides reacquainting myself with Jupiter, I
received a new weapon—The Moon Wand. "The Moon
Wand is the rightful weapon of the Princess," Luna said.
As leader, she felt it was only fitting that I wield the
Princess's weapon. Hah! That's a joke. The Moon
Wand was never created for battle. It was created for
healing; if only she knew. If only she knew the truth
about me, what would she say then? Would she be
disappointed? I don't know… Ouch! I forgot! That
stupid wand burnt my hand. I'll have to stop writing
now…. I know I always draw my friends' faces when we
first meet, but my hand hurts so much that I just can't.
Maybe, I'll try drawing Lita tomorrow; that is, if I don't
have to heal another monster.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 26, 1992
The dream has changed. The carnage is gone, but a far
more mysterious landscaped replaced it. This one is
hazy, like fog. I can hardly see… I'm dressed in one of
the Princess's gowns—it's silk; I don't know how I know,
but I do. A young man calls out to me; I can't make out
what he says. He calls out to me again; I run towards
him—I feel compelled to find him, but as I run, we get
farther apart. The fog grows denser and denser until I
can't see anything. Darkness descends, swallowing the
shadowed figure and leaving me feeling empty, cold, and
lonely…
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, May 1, 1992
Ohhh!!! That Darien makes me so mad!!!! He's
everywhere—always just around the corner. Sometimes
I think he's stalking me, but that's crazy—right? I bet it's
just my traitorous imagination. It's gone hay-wire again.
I just imagined him standing in Victoria Secrets today.
Yeah, I just imagined it that's why when I turned back to
look he was gone. That has to be it right? He wouldn't
really stock me; would he?
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, May 12, 1992
I nearly let it slip tonight—the secret that I keep. I
nearly had to tell the girls who I am and that the Silver Crystal
heightens my senses—especially where they are concerned.
How do you tell your best friends that you have been lying to
them ever since you met? How do you tell your guardian
you're the one she has been searching for all this time without
making her feel as thought she is an idiot? How do you tell
Tuxedo Mask and the others that the rainbow crystals are
insignificant—I already have the crystal? More important—will
they believe me when the time comes? Will they accept me
as their princess and eventually their queen? Will I ever find
Endymion—my prince and king?
As if one dilemma isn't enough, Tuxedo Mask nearly
discovered the truth about the Moon Wand tonight. When he
grabbed my hand, I reacted almost violently. Now, I think he
suspects that the Wand burns my hands, but I can not be too
sure—all I can do is keep him from getting too close, again.
But, how I want to tell someone. I need to tell someone—the
power—it burns—chars the flesh. I hate it. And yet, I know
that there is no other way to heal my people.
Another thing, how come I can sense Darien and
Tuxedo Mask as if they were one of my Senshi? I've never
been able to sense anyone else but my mother and—it
couldn't be—could it? Could all three of them be the same
person? But that would make Darien Tuxedo Mask and
Tuxedo Mask is way too nice and yet—they feel the same—
smell the same--if only I could see Tuxedo Mask's eyes, then I
would know for sure…
~*~
Darien was floored. How had she done it? How had
she put all three of his identities together so easily? Sure, she
dismissed the idea just as he had about her, but still, she had
figured it out. How was that possible?
Suddenly, the door bell rang, interrupting Darien's
thoughts and sending the precariously balanced diary
careening to the floor in Darien's wake as he rushed to open
the door. Unsteady hands rushed to unlock the dead bolt;
Darien had a sleeping girl to worry about. He couldn't have
some person waking her up after the night she had—wait a
minute! What if this was one of the Senshi searching for their
missing comrade? Mercury's computer certainly was capable
of finding her location. Or worse yet, what if it was Serena's
irate father, who was about to tear his head off for making him
worry about his little girl. Certainly, someone was worried
about her. Darien hadn't exactly had time to call anyone—
heck, he didn't even know who to call. It's not as if he had her
number or the girls' for that matter.
A sense of dread washed over Darien as he flung open
the door to reveal…
~*~
To be continued…
~*~
Sorry, had to end it somewhere. More coming soon. I
sincerely apologize for the wait. Raseyu wouldn't give this
chapter back to me, so I had to finish it on my own. Oh, well.
Hope you enjoyed. Suggestions are welcome. Chapter 6 is
started, but I am not 100% postive where I am going with it.
Thank you to Raseyu for past and present help and ideas. I
couldn't have gotten this far without you.
Rating: PG
Written by: Mistic (Misticlady)
misticlady@hotmail.com
Chapter 5 : The Diary
~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~
An hour later found Darien on the couch with
Serena's diary in hand, mind racing a mile a minute.
"She's been under my nose all this time. How
could I have been so blind?"
"Told you so," Heart taunted, rearing its "ugly"
head. "But no, you wouldn't listen to little ol' me. I'm too
dumb for the Great Earth Prince to listen to."
"Oh be quiet," Darien huffed mentally.
"So are you going to read it?"
"Wha—"
"The diary; are you going to read it?" Heart asked,
pointing with his mental hand toward the book that Darien
cradled so gently, "You already know who she is."
"But she doesn't know who we are," Logic
responded in a serious tone.
"So," Heart contested.
"So, Serena hates us—"
"No, she doesn't."
"Can you be so sure," Logic countered, seriously,
"She's never said a kind word to any of us."
"Neither have you," the heart countered, crossing
its mental arms once more in defiance. "All you ever do
is tease her."
"To keep Darien from getting hurt," logic replied in
an all important voice, "He can't let random females get
too close. You never know what they might do."
"Hey," Darien interjected, inexplicably angry at
Logic.
"Well it's true," Logic replied with an innocent
shrug, "You don't know what she's after."
"Don't talk about Serenity like that," Heart cried
outraged, "She was never like that, and I can't believe
that Serena would be either."
"Ah, but you are far too trusting."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too."
"Am not."
"Are too. Are too. Are too."
"Am not. Am not. Am not."
"Stop it you two!" Darien roared mentally, "We
don't even know if Serena knows that she is Serenity or
what she thinks about me—er--Endymion."
"There's one way to find out," Heart stated softly.
"I'm afraid I must concur," Logic conceded,
sheepishly.
"Ugghhh! You two are no help! I'm trying not to
invade Serena's privacy."
"But there's no other way." Heart whined, "There's
no way that Serena would tell you herself. She would
deny everything, and her friends are so fiercely protective
of her. They would never tell you what you need to
know."
"I hate to agree, but there is no other way," Logic
sighed, "If you really need to know what she thinks about
you—err that is—Endymion, you must read her diary. It's
the only way."
Darien gulped. He didn't want to open the book let
alone read it. He had no desire want to betray Serena's
trust or invade her privacy. However, his curiosity won
out, bringing with it the need to know. How did she feel
about him? Did she think of him as more than an enemy
or was her heart reserved for his alter ego alone and if it
was, could he be content with that?
"It's the only way… the only way… only way."
The words echoed in Darien's mind, driving him
insane with the incessant chant until finally he groaned in
defeat and gently lifted the cover, silently praying for
Serena's forgiveness.
"She's going to kill me."
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, June 30th,1988
Today is my tenth birthday, but no one is around to
remember. My mama is visiting with a sick friend back in
Tokyo, and Papa is too busy with work to visit. Sammy is
with Grandpa at the lake fishing, so they aren't around
either. Nana is the only one that remembered. She gave
me you, Dream Diary, and told me to write or draw my
dreams into your pages.
I guess you're my only friend well besides Nana—no one
else will listen to me. I used to be popular but then, a
while back, I got attacked. Some big bully that I had
never met before pushed me to the ground. Then he
laughed at me and called me "Moon Face" and "Meatball
Head" in front his friends. I got so angry I began to cry
and then something happened that I will never forget. A
light shot out of my forehead knocking the kid into a wall.
I wanted to scream, but I couldn't. I was too frightened,
so I ran. I ran as fast as I could, not caring where I was
going. His shocked face followed me all the way home.
It still haunts me. Maybe if I draw it, I will finally be able
to forget.
~*~
"That's why she hates the name Meatball Head,"
Darien murmured down casting his eyes to the bottom of
the page. There, in the corner, a little picture of a boy
with dark hair and chocolate brown eyes was drawn. It
was little more than a stick figure, but the power with
which he carried himself was unimaginable for someone
so young. His features were a bit blurred do to the fact
that they had been drawn with a crayon, but his eyes
were arrogant, filled with hate. Serena had written the
words "Meatball Head" in bold, red letters next to the
boy's head, and his finger pointed accusingly at the
reader. From the slant of the lines and the color, one
could tell that the artist had been upset when they were
written—maybe even self loathing, but that was
impossible. Serena had only been 10; how—more
importantly--why did she hate herself?
Hoping for some answers, Darien turned the page,
but only found that the next entry was far more puzzling
than the last.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, July 10. 1988
I had that dream again—the one where I am running
through this strange place surrounded by dead bodies.
Blood soaks the ground, and a storm rages around me.
But there is no rain, only flashes of light and thunder—it
scares me. I've never seen anything like it before…
What does it mean? Where is this place? Why did
everyone die? It scares me so much that I can't sleep. I
was hoping that writing it down would help…
~*~
Confused, Darien turned the page, hoping that
Serena had written about her nightmare again, but she
hadn't. Instead, Serena had written about her growing
problems with staying awake in school.
"It's so boring," she wrote, "like I've learned it all
before. I'm not challenged and find myself falling asleep
in class because of it. Sometimes, I even find myself
doodling on my homework—unfortunately my teacher
doesn't take very kindly to half done homework that is
covered up with half finished palaces and faces. I never
can finish a drawing; it seems…"
Stunned, Darien turned the page only to be
confronted with another entry that read in almost the
exact same way. If fact, the next six entries spoke of little
else—only the half finished drawings steadily
transformed into finished drawings and neglected
homework. In fact, it wasn't until March of '89 that
Serena began to have the nightmare again.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 3th,1989
It happened again. That dream. Only this time, I saw
something—in the sky. It had red eyes—evil eyes—that
seemed to look straight through me. I-I hate those eyes;
greed seems to radiate from them. They haunt me even
now; maybe, maybe if I draw them I will be able to go
back to sleep…
~*~
Darien shuddered. The drawing was vivid. Red
eyes glared at him from seemingly nothingness. They
were disfigured—slanted—tight—there was no white to
them only a red iris and pitch-black pupil. Darien knew
those eyes, had seen them in his own dreams.
Metallia.
Darien trembled. He knew that name well. She
was the queen of darkness; a fallen guardian that had
become jealous of the Moon Kingdom's power. She
raped worlds, stripping them of their power and twisting
their people into shadows of her evil. She fed off the evil
that lives in the hearts of man and other species before
that. She would stop at nothing to dominate the
universe—nothing.
Again, Darien turned the page, but he found it to
be blank—or so he thought. In the corner, very faintly
drawn, was the outline of a fairy. She had wings of silver
and a dress of white. Her features were obscured save
one—a golden crescent moon turned on its side graced
her forehead. The royal hairstyle of the Moon had been
faintly outlined, but nothing else was written on the
page—no explanation, nothing.
After that page, Serena stopped mentioning her
nightmares and her pictures were no longer of the past.
Instead, her diary entries tuned to a happier note and
focused on school and Serena's steadily growing circle of
friends. The demons of the prior year seemed to have
vanished.
That is, until this year…
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 2, 1992
Oh, God! The dreams are back. Only this time, they are
so vivid I can hardly contain my fear… Those eyes, they
chill me; evil, that's what they are, pure evil. God, why is
this happening to me? Why am I dreaming of this
again… I-I don't want to dream about their deaths
again… Those poor, poor girls; those poor people; why
did they have to die? Why was everything destroyed?
That man, his eyes so full of pain and love; how could he
have died in my arms? Why did I take my own life? That
laugh, it haunts me even now. Why, oh God, why?
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 3, 1992
My life was turned upside down today. I saved a cat from
a bunch of bullies on my way to school this morning.
They had plastered a band-aide to the poor creature's
forehead in order to hide a golden crescent moon—
similar to the one that I have been trying to hide since
that terrible day four years ago… I wonder what it
means…
Okay, how can a cat talk?????? I have no idea but that
cat tracked me down tonight and told me that I am—and I
quote—"The Champion of Justice—the soldier of the
Moon." Then get this—she giggled, did a back-flip and
gave me a broach—a very pretty broach—but a broach
nonetheless. Then she told me to say, "Moon Prism
Power."
What is a Moon Prism? I have no idea, but for some
strange reason, my clothes faded away only to be
replaced by a sailor suit of red, white, and blue—I felt like
an American flag for bloody sake! Then if that wasn't bad
enough, I turned around and discovered that the skirt
was so short it showed my underwear!!!! I would have
been so mortified if I had had the chance. However, I got
called to save Molly from a monster—none too gracefully
I might add.
Tuxedo Mask—ahhh, he' s so handsome, familiar almost.
I felt like we had met before and for the briefest moment,
I thought I saw his beautiful eyes from all the way across
the room. They were sapphire, like the ring my mother
wears—and had silver flecks that glistened in the
moonlight… I've seen those eyes before--in my
dreams—before I drew the fairy. I wonder who he is…
Looks like that cute guy I met this afternoon—the one
that called me "Meatball Head." Why do all the good
looking ones have to be so mean? I don't get it. They all
treat me like crud and call me names. But why, oh why,
is it always "Meatball Head????"
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 4, 1992
I saw him again. That guy from yesterday; only this time
he seemed vaguely familiar like a figure from a dream. I
saw his eyes, they were sapphire pools of confusion and
pain. I think he recognized something in me just I did
him, but I cannot be sure. However, he started calling
me "Meatball Head" again, and I forgot all about his
bewitching eyes.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, March 10, 1992
Oh, God! Not again! Why is this happening to me? Why
am I dreaming of this again… I-I don't want to dream
about their deaths again… Watch out! Mercury! Mars!
Those men are about to kill you—but it's too late they
have fallen… They can't die. They just can't! And the
other two, the orange and green suited, they died too.
Why, why does this keep happening? Why? God, why?
Why must I relive their deaths every night in my dreams?
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 5, 1992
Why does Darien always have to be right? Why can't he
ever be wrong. Take modeling for instance, I could never
measure up to those other girls, but he made me so mad;
I just had to go. But why did I even feel the need to
prove him wrong? Why did I put myself in danger yet
again to prove myself worthy in his eyes. It's no use; he'll
never see me for me. And yet, I keep trying in hopes that
one day he will know how much his opinion matters to
me. But why? Why does his opinion matter; it shouldn't,
and yet, it does. It means a great deal to me.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 7, 1992
Tonight, I attended my first ball. It was spectacular; the
decorations were fabulous and dainty. The dance floor
was huge and crystal chandeliers made it shimmer with
vibrant life, yet I wasn't there for pleasure. No, Luna
thought Princess D might be the Moon Princess, so I
went to "investigate." What I found was not the Supreme
Ruler of the Universe; instead, I found a frightened young
girl that had been possessed by one of Nephrite's
minions.
Princess D was a short pudgy little creature with freckles
and huge coke-bottle glasses. She had no grace, no
confidence. In fact, she hired a double to take her place.
When she heard Luna talk for the first time, she
screamed and fainted. She definitely was not our
princess.
I wish I could say I was surprised, but I wasn't. A part of
me knew all along that Princess D was not our girl—I
was—am—whatever the case may be… How? I don't
know. All I know is that when I passed out in Tuxedo
Mask's arms, his stolen kiss combined with the
champagne opened the floodgates of my memory and
yet, the images are so hazy. I can hardly understand
anything they are trying to tell me. All I know is that I am
this princess that everyone is searching for, and she was
never meant to be a warrior.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 20, 1992
God, why couldn't Molly believe me when I told her
Nephrite was evil? Why did I have to be such a coward
in telling her; I never should have run off after dropping
that load on her. I should have stayed to explain; if I had,
then none of this would have ever happened. Molly
would not have been in danger of dying, and she would
have never witnessed Nephrite's death.
To be honest, it was Jupiter that should have held
Nephrite as he died not Molly. Jupiter was his soul mate,
his one true love before the darkness corrupted him. She
should have been the one to set his spirit free, but now,
his spirit will be trapped forever in limbo, cursed to watch
over Endymion and his love for all eternity as tribute for
the pain he caused them. And all because Jupiter could
not forgive him before he died; now, Nephrite will never
know her love again…
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 25, 1992
Today, I nearly got run over by a car! I was so
preoccupied with my thoughts that I never noticed when I
walked out into the middle of the street! Yikes! But then,
this Amazon came out of nowhere and pushed me out of
the way. Then, as if that wasn't it enough, we discovered
that she's really Jupiter—one of my best friends. I must
say not much has changed in the last thousand years.
She's just as though as ever, and her heart is still in her
eyes. Same old Jupiter.
Tonight, besides reacquainting myself with Jupiter, I
received a new weapon—The Moon Wand. "The Moon
Wand is the rightful weapon of the Princess," Luna said.
As leader, she felt it was only fitting that I wield the
Princess's weapon. Hah! That's a joke. The Moon
Wand was never created for battle. It was created for
healing; if only she knew. If only she knew the truth
about me, what would she say then? Would she be
disappointed? I don't know… Ouch! I forgot! That
stupid wand burnt my hand. I'll have to stop writing
now…. I know I always draw my friends' faces when we
first meet, but my hand hurts so much that I just can't.
Maybe, I'll try drawing Lita tomorrow; that is, if I don't
have to heal another monster.
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, April 26, 1992
The dream has changed. The carnage is gone, but a far
more mysterious landscaped replaced it. This one is
hazy, like fog. I can hardly see… I'm dressed in one of
the Princess's gowns—it's silk; I don't know how I know,
but I do. A young man calls out to me; I can't make out
what he says. He calls out to me again; I run towards
him—I feel compelled to find him, but as I run, we get
farther apart. The fog grows denser and denser until I
can't see anything. Darkness descends, swallowing the
shadowed figure and leaving me feeling empty, cold, and
lonely…
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, May 1, 1992
Ohhh!!! That Darien makes me so mad!!!! He's
everywhere—always just around the corner. Sometimes
I think he's stalking me, but that's crazy—right? I bet it's
just my traitorous imagination. It's gone hay-wire again.
I just imagined him standing in Victoria Secrets today.
Yeah, I just imagined it that's why when I turned back to
look he was gone. That has to be it right? He wouldn't
really stock me; would he?
~*~
Dear Dream Diary, May 12, 1992
I nearly let it slip tonight—the secret that I keep. I
nearly had to tell the girls who I am and that the Silver Crystal
heightens my senses—especially where they are concerned.
How do you tell your best friends that you have been lying to
them ever since you met? How do you tell your guardian
you're the one she has been searching for all this time without
making her feel as thought she is an idiot? How do you tell
Tuxedo Mask and the others that the rainbow crystals are
insignificant—I already have the crystal? More important—will
they believe me when the time comes? Will they accept me
as their princess and eventually their queen? Will I ever find
Endymion—my prince and king?
As if one dilemma isn't enough, Tuxedo Mask nearly
discovered the truth about the Moon Wand tonight. When he
grabbed my hand, I reacted almost violently. Now, I think he
suspects that the Wand burns my hands, but I can not be too
sure—all I can do is keep him from getting too close, again.
But, how I want to tell someone. I need to tell someone—the
power—it burns—chars the flesh. I hate it. And yet, I know
that there is no other way to heal my people.
Another thing, how come I can sense Darien and
Tuxedo Mask as if they were one of my Senshi? I've never
been able to sense anyone else but my mother and—it
couldn't be—could it? Could all three of them be the same
person? But that would make Darien Tuxedo Mask and
Tuxedo Mask is way too nice and yet—they feel the same—
smell the same--if only I could see Tuxedo Mask's eyes, then I
would know for sure…
~*~
Darien was floored. How had she done it? How had
she put all three of his identities together so easily? Sure, she
dismissed the idea just as he had about her, but still, she had
figured it out. How was that possible?
Suddenly, the door bell rang, interrupting Darien's
thoughts and sending the precariously balanced diary
careening to the floor in Darien's wake as he rushed to open
the door. Unsteady hands rushed to unlock the dead bolt;
Darien had a sleeping girl to worry about. He couldn't have
some person waking her up after the night she had—wait a
minute! What if this was one of the Senshi searching for their
missing comrade? Mercury's computer certainly was capable
of finding her location. Or worse yet, what if it was Serena's
irate father, who was about to tear his head off for making him
worry about his little girl. Certainly, someone was worried
about her. Darien hadn't exactly had time to call anyone—
heck, he didn't even know who to call. It's not as if he had her
number or the girls' for that matter.
A sense of dread washed over Darien as he flung open
the door to reveal…
~*~
To be continued…
~*~
Sorry, had to end it somewhere. More coming soon. I
sincerely apologize for the wait. Raseyu wouldn't give this
chapter back to me, so I had to finish it on my own. Oh, well.
Hope you enjoyed. Suggestions are welcome. Chapter 6 is
started, but I am not 100% postive where I am going with it.
Thank you to Raseyu for past and present help and ideas. I
couldn't have gotten this far without you.