Lost and Found Guilty

"The truth is... I willingly let him into my heart."

I remember the day my father gave me the Ring, more clearly than anything else in my entire life. It was like a work of fate… or destiny, or some Egyptian god or... something.

I remember this moment more than I remember anything. I remember it more than the tragic, life-changing death of my sister and mother, more than the wonderful times I shared with them… I remember it more than my sister's adorable little face, and I can't remember what her laughter sounded like. I remember it more than Mother's voice—my own mother—and I can't for the life of me recall the way she would smile at me. I can't place the way she would say my name; I can't even imagine it, in my mind.

I remember it more than my own happiness and I don't understand why.

I was a child.

I was a mess, still, at that point. Of course, some might argue that is still the case with me. Half the time, I don't even remember where I am, or what I was doing just a moment before. I'm always lost; always wandering and wondering. I don't know peace, and I don't know what it's like to feel safe.

It was a present, a gift, from my father, and I was still recovering from having my mother and sister taken away from me. I was still so young, and Father wasn't always so sure of how to comfort me. I suppose it's because no one was there to comfort him… that was Mother's job, you see, and…

Well, he returned home from Egypt that day. I had been expecting him for so long, and I had even baked a cake for his arrival. It was a chiffon cake, with strawberries and butter cream frosting on top… it sat out for so long, while I was waiting for him, that a few of the strawberries began to disappear… I can't imagine where they went.

Sticky, red-stained fingers open my door as I hear my father fumbling with the locks. He hugs me, and I remember wanting to cry I was so happy. It had been a long time since I had cried for a reason other than sadness.

We ate cake in complacent silence, and I couldn't help but notice my father shooting glances at his suitcase, just outside the kitchen doorway. I remember him looking nervous, maybe as if he was keeping a secret from me, inside this suitcase.

Of course I was right.

"I have a present for you, son," he told me, trying his best to hide it behind his back.

I don't even need to see it… I can feel it. I can hear it, as it dangles from his hands. I hear the clink of metal against metal. I could taste the metallic sheen of the fork still in my mouth, its prongs stabbed firmly into my tongue as it rested there.

I don't move for a while, I wait for my father to place it in front of me.

I remember I dropped my fork, and I remember the obnoxious sound it made as it collided with antique porcelain.

I accepted my present with enthusiasm, with open arms… I accepted him. I suppose I didn't know about him at that moment. That's what I tell myself, when I recall the events of that day.

For a moment, I felt like myself again. Even for just a moment, I could feel my sister calling to me, laughing as the sunlight kissed her perky, swollen cheeks. I could feel my mother take my hand and lead me to the park. They were talking to me, and reenacting things that I had long-since forgotten… my happiness had returned to me in that single moment. And I wanted it. More than anything. I welcomed it, and as selfish as it sounds... I deserved it.

"Well?" my father asked awkwardly, breaking my reverent concentration.

I was speechless as I touched the necklace, its cool surface seeming to melt beneath my touch. I remember smiling as I felt someone place the necklace's cord around my neck; perhaps it was my sister, or even my mother. I don't think it was Father because he was still watching me get acquainted with my new gift, with unfeigned interest.

The pendant collided with my chest and suddenly I felt naked… I felt the cold press of its weight, even through my shirt, and suddenly it was only me and the pendant… the Ring. Nothing else existed. There was nothing else between us. No clothes, no skin, no bones… only my beating heart, my very soul, pressed firmly against the Ring.

I knew that I had really found a treasure, an ancient possession to call my own. I felt greedy as I imagined ever living without this Ring, now that I had it, what I would do if I had to ever take it off… I wanted more.

"You desire… happiness?" I asked myself, naked and alone on the cold floor. All I could see was darkness. Darkness and my Ring.

"Yes," I answered. I wasn't about to ignore myself, after all. I had asked myself this question many times before; only now, it felt different.

"Does this Ring make you happy?"

"Yes," I blurted out, my lips moving without my permission. But I must have meant it.

"If it's happiness you desire, then why don't you take it?"

"Because… it was taken from me."

"Suppose you had the power to take it back. Power beyond your control, beyond your understanding… a great power to grant you whatever you desire. You'd take it, wouldn't you?"

My chest hurt, like I had bumped into a brick wall and continued walking… my heartbeat was so intense that I wanted to cut my heart out, just to rid myself of that horrible pulsing. My mind was trying to think on its own.

"Yes," I answered defiantly, thoughts of my mother and sister plaguing me, haunting me. Would they really come back to me…? Could they? I began to cry, but I couldn't feel the tears as they slid down my cheeks.

My sobbing turned into laughter as I ran my fingers slowly over the Ring, protectively, proudly. My blood seemed to run cold, and my pulse grew louder. "You desire ghosts and memories, well, it appears we have that much in common. Your soul is darkened by your sadness. You couldn't resist even if you wanted to…"

The truth is… I willingly let him into my heart.

He made me feel things that I had pushed away, somewhere safe no one could ever find. He promised me, that day, that I could have them back… my sister and my mother. I suppose I thought the Millennium items could grant me this wish, in my mind, that's what I had hoped. I hoped that he was to be my friend, to help me avenge the deaths of my family.

I was wrong, of course, but…

In return, I promised him my body, and yet he stole much more than that from me.

Suddenly my mind was a prison, and I was locked away inside.

I let go of myself in one swift, defeated sigh, and found myself, once again in the kitchen with my father. He was smiling at me, and I think I smiled back. I thanked him for my gift, so very thankful I was at that time... I could have died happy that day. And perhaps, we could agree, there's a part of me that bloody well did.

It would be a long time before I would remember the first time I met the other me. After that day, I somehow seemed to forget his intrusion. He wanted me to forget, I'm certain… until the time was right. Until he could use me. I was not yet ready at that time. Instead he watched, learned who I was, listened to my every thought...

Wherever I go, the Ring is with me, and the Spirit is trapped inside.

…Or perhaps you're still trapped inside, little host.