username + number :: Ucanthandleme + 809102
kalon name :: Jouska - a hypothetical conversation that you compulsively play out in your head
prompt :: Unseen
It was probably that moment, the moment in which I was dyed just a little bit black. ‘Like a doll’, from the moment I was born these words were used to describe me. As an infant perhaps it was a complement, black doll-like eyes, curly dark hair that lay to the ground and a blank look on my face. A baby that did not cry, nor fuss, nor smile, nor laugh, simply empty like a doll. It seems this trajectory grew concerning the older I got. I never made a sound, even though rocks broke through my knees from a stumble; I never frowned when my toys were taken by another; I never smiled, even when my younger sibling was born. A blank doll with no emotions, it was quite clear to see against my newest younger sibling. Defective. Perhaps that is what my parents thought of me, maybe that's why they sent me away. Perhaps it was my mothers tears when she shook me “Cry please just cry!”; maybe it was my fathers anger at my lack of words; or was it all simply down to the moment my sibling first smiled, laughter pouring out in the room that had never seen a sound of joy before. No matter the moment the present was true…I had been abandoned. I looked into the empty field, the iron gates cold in my hand. The smile of the director as he waved my parents off. This moment was a lightbulb going off, a realization in my mind…nobody wanted me because I did not react. So, I would learn to react.
It was simple really, it started with watching. I'd watch the other children, their small fights, conversations, their actions and words, every minute facial expression was layered into my brain, judging an action to a response; I watched it all. Next came mimicking, I started with watching myself in a bucket filled with water, remembering the details of a smile, of a pout, of a look of annoyance. I slowly added more difficult actions and emotions to my practice. I cried, I had tantrums, I looked angry, I looked sad, I let out a great big laugh, jumping for joy. It was easy, and I was good at deceiving. The once perfect doll was now the perfect child. A child who acted spoiled but at the same time haughty, a child who cried, but when they laughed the sunflowers bloomed, a child who would be angry but with a few coaxing words would be over it soon. I became a loveable child who no one would abandon anymore. A blank strip fitted with colors, but one dip in water and you would see, the colors were a lie, and all floated off. I did well in my role. The ideal child. My new parents, siblings, grandparents and friends adored me. I’d cater to their ideal vision, I was good at judging others expressions after all, I mimicked to perfection. That's all it was after all, mimicking, I never truly felt any of those things.
From a child to an adult, I grew into the perfect figure. I was the one other parents would scold them about for not being more alike. I had perfect grades, perfect looks, a perfect family, a perfect life. I had it all. But all was not enough. Although now mimicking had become a second nature, giving the perfect response to every situation, I still could not grasp the true meaning of those actions. When I cried I did not feel sad, when I showed anger I was not really angry, when I laughed I did not truly feel joy. I needed to study more. I became an actor, never before had the world seen such talent. Any role, from a lunatic to a doctor, each and everyone lifelike and vivid. They would ask me how I did it, ‘just a little practice’ I would smile. Yes. More practice, more emotions, I looked again in the mirror at my reflection. More. More. More. I needed them all, every emotion, every feeling I could study and add to my repertoire. Deranged. I paused at my reflection, a vivid light of insanity in my gaze. Frozen. I could not believe it for a second . That shining light was mine. Truly an expression I felt. A crazy emotion that swallowed me whole. What did I have it for? Ah, I remember now.
The memories of a child, blank eyes watching as their parents left, left them behind the chained door of a metal tomb. It seems I did not realize it then, the perfect blank doll, in that moment must have been stained a little black. The blank piece of paper had been dyed a little darker. It must have been then, but only had I realized now. I had felt an emotion. I had been acting on an emotion. Revenge. No. Hatred. No. Longing….yes. I think that's what it was. The longing to not be lonely, the longing to not be abandoned, the longing to simply be loved the way I was. I realize now, salty tears ran down my blank face, frozen eyes to the mirror. I longed for it all. I stood up and walked out of my room. There was my mother, father, younger siblings too. Sitting at the table. They gave me a smile and beckoned me closer. I had it. I wasn’t lonely, I wouldn’t be abandoned, I was loved. Was I loved the way I was? I gave a smile, a flash of insanity in my gaze. Well it didn’t matter, I had it all, so I would simply keep going; keep mimicking to be the perfect child, perfect sibling, perfect person. I was a blank canvas where many colors could be painted, but under all the layers it was there, just sitting. A little dash of black.
(985/1000)
