by chupacabras » Mon May 20, 2013 2:20 pm
◤█████████████████████████████████████████████████◥UsernameNameName MeaningNarcissa \n(a)-rcissa, nar-cissa\ as a girl's name is of Greek origin, and the meaning of Narcissa is "daffodil". Feminine form of Narcisse, which comes from the legend of the beautiful Greek youth who became enamored of his own reflection - hence "narcissism".
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◤█████████████████████████████████████████████████◥How I was Raised I live in glass boxes..
That's the way it's always been, as long as I can remember, and I remember everything. My first glass box was my cot, and Mam was there already. There was a mobile with little glass stars on them, and I tried to reach out and touch them, but I never did. It made so frustrated, so angry, that I could not grab those tiny stars twinkling and shining just out of my reach. When I cried and raged because of this reason, Mam would pick me up and rock me. I would try and touch the stars while she rocked me and get a little closer.
Then, I got a new glass box.This new box was much bigger than my cot. It had a big wall, with strange creatures behind it. They would look at me, moving their paws over pieces of wood in their paws. I remember, when I was younger, I would try and touch these strange creatures like the stars in my cot. But just as the stars, they always escaped me. I would try and reach through the glass towards these things, but they never looked at me, only scribbled more.
In my new home, Mam would teach me things. She taught me the alphabet, and then words. This opened up an entirely new world for me. Mam was a "robot", the strange creatures were "people", my soft friend who waited for me on my bed each night was "rabbit". I learned other things as well, like math (which I hated), and different kinds of science (which I tolerated). Sometimes instead of lessons I would be sent into a door on the wall opposite my glass wall, and I would go into a really, really big room. There were different things in it every time, sometimes there was just a disembodied voice asking me questions about what I had learned and me answering back in a reluctant voice. Sometimes there were people that ignored me like always. They didn't differ much from the ones outside my glass box, because all they did was scribble too. I think my favorite time in there was when somehow, a pile of soft squashy things like Rabbit had gotten in. I didn't answer any questions that time, strangely. That was one of the last trips I made, a long time ago.
Soon after that I realized something; I was different from Mam. Her chest never moved as she held me, and her skin was hard and cold. She looked like people and I didn't know what I was. I didn't walk around on two legs, and I had hair all over and my tail was long and fluffy. I used to ask Mam about this, but she never answered my question so I stopped asking.
When I wasn't learning from Mam, I would often play with Rabbit. Really, I didn't have much choice, because there wasn't anything else to do. But Rabbit was my best friend, my playmate and confidant. I told him my deepest fears and most heartfelt desires.
Every once in a while, the people would actually come in my box. They wore gloves, and still scribbled on their pieces of wood. One of them would poke at me, and I would feel them and rub myself against them. They backed away, and didn't ever look directly at me. My limited vocabulary then kept me from telling them what I wanted. I would paw at their clothes, crying out for them to take me to their mysterious world, one of giants and new things. The one I saw a little piece of every day through my glass.
And one day, not so long before now, the people which I had so long admired for their freedom, wishing I could be like them, set me free of my glass prison.
I don't understand why, I don't know if I ever will. All I know is that after my last visit to the room with things in it, there had been many more people clustered at my wall. It made me uncomfortable, self-concious. I felt as if every one of them was x-raying me, waiting for me to slip up or do something interesting. After a while, the crowd thinned back to the usual few people. A piece of paper had gone up overnight on my wall. I could not read it, and did not know that that thin slip of paper, frail enough to be torn apart by mere drops of water, was to be my ticket to freedom. But as I was let out of the room, touched by human hands, I knew-
I am forever free of my glass boxes.
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◤█████████████████████████████████████████████████◥Favorite ObjectsNarcissa's favorite objects are, first and foremost, her mother-robot, the only speaking, slightly emotional being she has contact with. She calls her Mam, because of a malfunction of the robot's voice box when she was two. Her other favorite thing is Rabbit, who, you guessed it, is a stuffed patchwork rabbit.
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Theme SongStoryRemember how nobody would really look at me? Well, I wasn't entirely truthful about that.
I never knew her name, but there was one woman. Every day she would look up from her board once and we would share a furtive glance. I'm pretty sure that she wasn't supposed to be doing it, but she did anyways. I've only ever told Rabbit this. Of course, it wasn't hard for me to keep the secret, since Mam wasn't exactly the prying type. Who else would I have told, anyways?
And so we carried on like this until I was maybe 4 and a couple months old. We would sneak a smile, sometimes even raising a hand quickly in a friendly gesture. Sometimes when nobody else was around she would risk pressing her hand against the glass. Sometimes when we were alone, I could see tears in her eyes. I couldn't hear her crying, nor touch and comfort her. I didn't even know what she was sad about, but I longed to just touch her and tell her it'd be alright.
But around when I turned 4, all that changed. The woman was very sad one day, and very soon after sharing a glance with me her gaze seemed to harden, as if she'd made up her mind about something. She walked off after that.
But later that day, she returned with a man I'd never seen. Pushing myself up against the glass, I saw a conversation between the two. The volume escalated quickly, so much that I could hear it from within my room.
"Look at her! She's desperate to be touched, for any sort of contact! Do you really think that this is going to prove anything?" The woman shouted, gesturing wildly to me as I watched. Tears threatened to break free of her eyes as the man calmly answered back. I couldn't hear him. "No," the woman said, cutting of the end of his reply. "I don't care what this project is for anymore, I'm not working on it! Assign me to something else, fire me, I don't care!" This shouting match continued for a while, ending with both of them walking out.
I looked for her the next day, at the time she always came in. No. She didn't show up. Nor the day after that, or after that. After a while of going between states of excitement in the mornings to listless ness the rest of the day, I gave up looking.
That lady is one of my biggest regrets. I never knew her name, never got a completely clear view of her face, never even touched her. And I never saw her again.
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Last edited by
chupacabras on Wed Jun 05, 2013 4:54 pm, edited 23 times in total.
You will remember me for centuries
