Homecoming

I awoke this morning to the smell of bacon. I come down the narrow servant stairs into the kitchen to find Pure cooking, nothing unusual there, they all alternate, the ones that can cook. We greet each other and that is when Protector comes in. He meets me at the bottom of the steps. He’s wearing a brown t-shirt that says “Bass Master” with fish flipping across his chest. “Today is a very special day.” He gives me wide smile, his black hair standing straight up like he had been electrocuted. It’s seems so strange to me that someone with his job should be so…weird. He takes me by the arm and starts leading me toward the sitting room. “Now I don’t want you to freak out. We’re here, we’re all here for ya. If you need anything just let me know.”

Their names are “Counsel Rule” and “God is Gracious” (different names from those agents with the same meaning.) Mr. & Mrs. M. have been introduced to me as my parents. And as if to bring evidence of their claim they came armed with pictures of me: As a toddler in a blue and red bikini with a young Mrs. M kneeling next to me. On Santa’s lap in a red dress and white lace collar, black patent shoes shining brightly. My first soccer uniform, my hair pulled back in long dark curls and a black and white ball under my arm. Each photo progresses in age, finally a newspaper article showing the mangled car and the announcement of my death.

I felt nothing. I held those photos in my hands and stared hard into the eyes of the girl that was me. I want to feel something. I want to believe this is the truth, it’s such a nice truth. All I can feel is anguish for my lack of connection and anger because the only emotions I have felt are a result of Watchman’s appearance. Why should he have a place in my emotional life while my parents have none? It’s screwed up.

Of course they could have been faked, I can trust nothing but myself and that is the problem, I can’t even tell what is me or what was suggested or implanted or whatever else Warlike did to me. Maybe that was Warlike’s plan from the start. It is impossible for me to accept anything as truth or reality.