IMMAGE OF A GUNDAM PILOT: 03 TROWA BARTON

For now, my name is Trowa Barton. Really, I have no name. Nanashi they called me. I am no one. I never have been and never will be. A shell of a human. I don't know how I've gotten this far. Living day to day, excepting that the universe and everyone in it hates me. A non existent soul and a broken body is all I have to give. I don't see why people even stop to notice me.

I am Nanashi. I've traveled around for as long as I can remember. I have no clue where, or when I was born. As far as I'm concerned I simply exist. Though I don't want to. My existence has been horrible and painful. I just want it all to end. Who can save me from myself? I can't. I sit alone sometimes and wonder why this as all happened. Why I have lived and others died? How did a dirty person like me make it into now?

My childhood was terrible. A never-ending memory of pain. My body still bears the painful scars; though it was my mind that suffered the most. Five years old. I was five years old when I was first introduced to sex. I had been eating my dinner alone like I normally did, when he came up to me. I've never been the same. My innocence was shattered on that bunk in the cold tent on that night. Even now I can still remember the mind numbing pain he brought upon my body. And it didn't stop there. I grew up in a missionary group. An all MALE missionary group. Sexual tension is high with men like that and they have a tendency to take it out on each other. Sex is power and the more power you had the better. Survival of the fittest, the weak used as the powerful's toys. I had lived in that group for as long as I could remember with men eight times my age. I was told once that I had to be taught to keep in my place and that this was the only way. It never ended. Constantly, every night, SOMEONE forced me to their bed. After a while I stopped screaming. It wasn't worth it. No one would save me. But someone did. Ralph. My saving grace. He taught me to live. I loved him with all my soul and I still do. Why did he have to die? Was I never meant to be happy? Never meant to live?

Gundam. It was one of my few joys in life. I've always like doing things with my hands. I helped build Heavyarms. Trowa, the original one, hated me. He was a big shot in the second Missionary Group I went to work with. You'd think after my experiences with the first one I'd never go back. Unfortunately my darling Ralph had taught me that not everyone was like that. I thought that maybe, just maybe this would be different. It wasn't. Just the same thing. My renewed hope being crushed. Ralph had given me a voice, one I quickly had to start using to scream for my life. These were worse, a few of them tried to kill me. I wish they had. Trowa was the worst. The others did it because they could, he did it because he hated me. He thought I was trying to take his place. At the time I wasn't. I never in a thousand years thought I would be going by his name. I watched him die. The pure joy that sang in my body as his lifeless corpse hit the cold steel was one of the greatest feelings in my life. I don't think I've ever been happier. Then the suit I had come to love was placed in my hands. I was free. I was going to have a life to live. One without the group to hold me down. I was scared though. Scared that I was going to fail. Scared that the world outside my Merc groups was so much worse. For once, to my joy, I was wrong.

I still sit back and wonder why. Why was I chosen for this life? Though others told me that it was of no fault of mine, I still feel that all the pain inflicted on me had been done rightly so. I still feel like I deserved it for not being normal, for not knowing who I was. Though now with the kind guiding hands of these people I can honestly call friends, I am coming out of my shell, breaking down these wall of steel wrapped so tightly around myself. I'm still waiting for it though. This is all too good to be true. I still honestly feel that it will all come crashing down and I will be left with nothing. Please let my luck be turning. Please let me be wrong.

Hope. I finally have hope. I never had that. The scars still remain as a constant reminder but I'm finding I do have a soul. It's small and scared but it's coming out. One day I'll be able to hug Cathy without thinking about it and becoming terrified. I'll be the little brother she needs. All she'll be the big sister I can always rely on. These four boys, no men, they and Cathy are the only family I have. I love them all. I never want to lose them. Please let me be wrong. Please let there be hope for me. I don't want to spend the rest of my life hiding. I want to smile.

03: Trowa Barton, logging off personal logs.

"Trowa?" Trowa turned around to see a petit blonde standing in the door way. "Yes Quatre?" "Trowa, It's time for bed. You know I can't sleep with out you." Trowa smiled softly to himself, getting up and walking to the bedroom he shared with his lover. Twining his had with Quatre's he thought 'One day, one day I'll smile and then I'll be free.'

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that sucked. I know it did. It's been forever since I've written anything and I choose to write the next part of my only really good on going series at one in the morning. Chalk it up for me! I wanted Trowa's to be as depressing as possible, because his past is so sad, but I was rather blunt and I don't like that. I might revise it I might not. Depends on the reviews. The reason I don't do on going series is because I can never make the next parts stand up to the originals. It's really going downhill I think. But that's my opinion. It's really up to you.

R&R Longlive13x6x5@aol.com