Perfect is a Lie
My hair just so, my voice just right, my walk determined, and my head held just right. This is the me I show. The one I show Aang, Katara, and Sokka. They see the warrior, the strong, quick witted, intelligent me. I work hard to show them that I can handle myself, that I can carry my own weight. They have much more important things to worry about than me and my trivial issues. They see what I want them to see. What they can't see is the displaced, lonely soot covered me of my youth.
People say I'm perfect, that I have no problems that I am almost too good to be real. They are painfully mistaken. The life I have and the life I came from are two very different worlds. The life I live is the life I always dreamed of, it's the life I imagined when I laid my head downs on the filthy sacks of flour in Ba Sing Se. I was not born on Kiyoshi Island; I was not born into a warrior society. I was born in the slums of Ba Sing Se and I was born into a life of misery. The days passed with nary a sliver of hope, I walked the streets every day with a dream of escaping beyond the walls the sealed me in. I would plan it all out but then reality would hit me like a violent storm and remind me, where would I go, what food would I eat, how would I take care of myself. I would sit sadly with a piece of my spirit crushed and cry for the life I would never have each tear a glimmer of hope being torn from me.
I remember the dreams. They were the strength that kept me going. They were in a beautiful garden surrounded by roses of all colors it made the twilight sky look bland. The woman appeared to me and started to practice her bending. Eventually, I started to mimic her and she started to teach me. She taught me honor, the symbol people see on our clothes, she made me strong, I honor this with my face paint, she tapped my heart for its bravery, this is why we use silk in our dress. She taught me all I know and was the reason I woke up every morning.
I practiced my moves so that at night I could prove to her I was worthy of her teachings. My heart soared, I held my head a little higher, and I walked just a little bit straighter each day. Each night I practiced, each night I trained, each night my world shed the darkness and entered the light. One night I did dream but it was a boat crossing a vast ocean and I saw my master on the shore standing there her golden headdress standing firm in the breezy cool night, her eyes welcoming, and her stance expectant. As I got off the boat I looked around she was no longer there, I looked up and I saw her standing high in the air then I heard a whisper from beyond this world:
"Wake my child and remember all I have taught you"
I woke from my dream not to the filthy slums of Ba Sing Se but on the cool sand of an unknown island. I was accepted by the people and was taken in as their daughter; I finally had a home, family, love, and friendship. Every morning before as the sun's golden ray's peek over the horizon I go to the statue at the center of our village and I bow before my master and remember from the depths she brought me.
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