Sometimes, when I lie in bed at night, I can still remember my mother's laughter, or my dad's smile. Sometime, when I sleep, I forget the cruelty that I had committed and the cruelty of what others had done to me. But when I am awake, I am in hell. I am friendless and alone, trapped in my mind, only able to think of things to come.
Yet, life isn't quite so bad anymore. Netto and Rockman are nice, heck even Enzan isn't as mean as he once was. But I still yearn for the days before my parents died. I miss my mothers embrace and my dad's cooking every single day of my life. A void which will never fill, no matter how hard I try.
I look into the sky, and I see nothing anymore. To some people, the sky represents freedom, a vastness that humans could never hope to fill. I see the sky as a void, nothing more or less. When I was little, the sky represented dreams to me. I saw birds and planes and kites. I wanted to fly, I wanted to be up there with them, and my mom would always say 'If you try hard enough, you can do anything.'
Two months later her sister said 'If you try hard enough the world will just turn on you and make you miserable.' And then she laughed.
I remember so much, yet so little. I don't know what my parents looked like anymore, but their voices come to me, clear as day. I hear laughter and encouragement; I smell oranges, because my dad always smelled like oranges for some reason or other. I hear the hiss of my dad's cooking and the soft coo of my mother's sewing machine. But I no longer have faces to put with these memories anymore. Every time I try to imagine my mothers face, I see her sister instead, sneering at me, and telling me how worthless I am. Every time I imagine my dad, I see my grandpa, turning his back on me.
I don't like faces.
I don't like a lot of things and that's probably why I tried to take over the world, but faces are the things that I hate and fear the most. The faces of people who tricked me and used me haunt my dreams on a nightly basis, yet I couldn't keep my parent's own faces etched in my memory. Faces do nothing but deceive.
Like my aunt sobbing at my parent's funeral, all she wanted was money. That's all any of them wanted, they didn't care to two good wonderful people were now gone. They just wanted to get rich, well joke was on them anyway.
So, every person on this damn planet is a hypocrite, or at least that's what I grew up thinking. Even after my relatives left, I was still surrounded by people who didn't say what they mean. All they wanted was money as well, but at least they were honest.
What and oxymoron, honest thieves. But it's so true in the Undernet, honest thieves and some not so honest. Yet I was taken care of just fine. In fact, I took better care of myself then anyone else had for months, even though I was only 8. What has the world come too when an 8 year old kid can take better care of himself then an adult.
A world that needed to be purged.