June 02, 2005

Character: Lacey

Lacey always saw herself as a strong and fiercely independent person. To most that observed her she appeared aloof, almost uncaring. Her brisk walk and purposeful appearance only added to the perception that she was cold and unapproachable. She never gave off an image of mean spiritedness but people often would steer clear nonetheless - the same as they would cross the street when faced with a chained dog while walking past a neighborhood yard.

However, their behavior was fitting; she identified herself most closely with a K-9 Shepard. She admired their ability to focus and remain on mission. It was her goal to be the same way in her own life. This often meant she had little use for people - they usually just got in the way of completing a task. Like her animal counterpart, Lacey investigated everything, suspicious of it all. It wasn't that she lacked the ability to trust, she had just been given too many reasons to prevent her from doing it blindly. She needed evidence that her trust was being placed in something legitimate and that it would be cared for.

In reality, rather than the controlled police dog, she was probably one of the most torn and angry people she'd ever met. Beneath her focused, mission-oriented exterior was a girl lost in chaos. Her life had been about fairness, justice, and the golden rule but life had not treated her with the same respect. Doing the right thing always benefited someone else and left her on the side of the highway, punished for her altruism. It just didn't make sense in her head, she never knew which way to turn, and it sometimes pushed her to the brink of insanity. The angel on her shoulder told her to carry on, true to herself, and leave the anger behind. The devil on her shoulder told her that everything she faced proved being a good person didn't matter, that she should do just what she felt like in the moment. Some days the devil got the best of her and she became easily irritable, snapping at anyone that dared cross her. She felt betrayed by life and society and she wanted to make them pay. But in the end, the angel always won and no one ever paid. She couldn't sleep at night if harm had come to others at her hands, so none ever did. Knowing that it was not her place to deliver justice and that most never would be punished for any of the things they did made her absolutely livid. She wished that just for one night the angel would shut up and let the devil win for real.

This night she was close to getting her wish, the devil was winning. She was so angry she didn't know where to turn. She looked to the shower to calm her. She jerked the water on and caught a reflection of her contorted face in the mirror. It was flushed and her jaw tight as she clinched her teeth. Mad that her beauty had been stolen by those who angered her, she tore off her clothes and threw them on the floor. Before stepping into the water she put her long braid in to a bun with a claw clip. It pulled her hair slightly and scraped at her scalp. The unexpected pain made her smile.

She stayed in the shower for a long time, enjoying the hot water that she had made just slightly warmer than usual. It wasn't enough to burn her skin but it hurt a bit, just enough to fuel the devil that was raging inside. Her mind was in overdrive thinking up vengeful plots, creating mock arguments, urging her to punch one of the freshly tiled walls. It was only when the water grew cool that she was motivated to stop her internal tirade. Out of the shower and standing again in front of the mirror, she wished that her towel was wrapped around someone willing to carry out everything she had thought of instead of being wrapped around her. She knew the angel was trying to take over again.

A new mission was the only thing that could bring her down completely. The frown that had slid onto her face indicated that she had found one; her eyebrows were out of place. Putting her precious tweezers to use, she plucked stray hairs one by one to bring things back to the picture perfect way they should be. It still hurt every time she pulled a hair but it hurt just the way she wanted it to. The pain focused her again and allowed the angel to speak more clearly to her. She could sleep firm in her belief that they would pay, some day, in a way that was most deserved - even if it didn't come at her hands or if she never knew how.

Posted by Princess Cat at June 2, 2005 02:10 PM @ 02:10 PM in Story Time // Permalink