"Disillusioned masks are fragile things." These words echo through my head as I sit holding the item that describes me the most. From somewhere behind me I hear Catherine move and sigh. It doesn't faze me, though, nothing ever does. Not even death can shake me. Innocence left me long ago and I know there is no chance of it returning. To be honest, I don't believe it is something I've ever possessed, therefore the notion of it's leaving me in is simply another illusion. Again Catherine makes a deliberate noise and again I ignore it. If she wants to make a point it will have to wait because right now I don't care. For a moment I wonder about that: I don't care? Then I realize that I never really have. I fight because I'm a soldier, not because I believe in some dream of freedom or peace. I fight because that's what I was made to do. Once again I look at the object in my hands, its bright half-smile grinning at me. What am I but a mask of the opposite position? There are times I wonder if I'm even human. After all, I wear a guise that even I cannot penetrate. I do not feel, I cannot feel…the mask I wear hides my very soul from me, leaving me to question if I even have one. To me I'm nothing but a frozen creature. I belong to no one, not even myself. I exist as a blank canvas that is too full to hold another brush stroke. No man but myself has shaped me. I am what I want to be: Unfeeling, frozen, unhindered, oblivious to the raging spirit within me that cries to be let out. It is the spirit of a lost child, long ago abandoned in the wasteland that is locked inside me. Perhaps some day I'll listen to that cry, though its not likely. There is no reason for me to become anything other than what I already am. I stand and hear Catherine mumble something about it being time. Following her to the curtain that keeps the performers hidden I put the mask in its place and step out in front of the crowd. They cheer as always but only I know the many layers of dark shroud that separates me from them. They see only the outer mask; it is all they are allowed to view. No one, not even myself, can know of the other facades that keep me from what life truly is. The routine begins and I execute it with ease, knowing it inside and out. To me this is just another mission, another duty. Brushing by me Catherine tells me to smile. As always I don't bother to listen. Will she ever learn that her overused attempt is futile? The first act ends and we move on to the next. Looking around I see the faces of laughing children blur my vision. Quatre might say he fought for them; even Duo might be inclined to that notion. As for me, however, they are merely shadows of what I never was. One last set of summersaults and flips until I am able to retreat behind the wall of fabric. Once there I watch the other performers continue, absentmindedly removing my mask as I do so. I look at the children again before turning away. They are people who feel and have a purpose other than destruction; the things I use to veil my soul eternally separate me from them. Silently I make my way outside, forcing all the pointless thoughts from my mind. Only one thing is important: I will die as I have lived, a soldier lost in his own disguise. Until then I will live as I always have: as a man hidden from himself, his mask consuming his very soul. Unlike others, who hide in their shattered chimera, I am the unbroken illusion. Forever I will remain so, forever I will walk unknown.