Sooooo... I SHOULD be updating my other stories but I wanted to write this instead. I'm sorry! I'll try to get to the other ones, but I'm a lot busier now so it may be a little while :(
Anyways, on a happier note, here is a new tiny fic! :D I feel Alloran never had his situation fully explored which was a TRAVESTY because it must have been truely horrific being a controller all those years under such a vindictive Yeerk as Visser Three. Please review and let me know what you think!

I am I said.

I am, I said,
To no one there...

I am, I cried,
I am, said I.

I am, I said – Neil Diamond.

I am...

Listening to the voice of Neil Diamond, rolling through my quarters. He's crooning about identity, or maybe I misinterpreted the song and it's some other human concept. I like to believe his words are on the subject of identity. If they are then they speak to me.

I am...

An Andalite, mighty yet small. I was once proud, and I would like to believe I am still brave.

I am...

Feared and respected. Hork Bajir, Taxxons and humans step aside and avert their eyes as I walk past. The air is heavy with strained tension in my presence. It is oppressive. They are afraid to raise my temper, because they know I can and will kill. They fear to lose their lives to my anger.

I am...

Very very alone and yet never allowed solitude.

I am...

Looking around the quarters, wondering if I really am truly alone. Are there other Andalites in here, hiding in tiny bodies, waiting to catch me unawares and tear me apart? I hope so.

I am...

No longer afraid, because when you have burned for so long pain and misery lose their horror. I do not think there is anything left in this galaxy to frighten me.

I am...

Working at the computer interface, sending commands to the many many forces ranged at my command. I order them to draw up, to parade, to attack. I send them scurrying across this planet, this 'Earth' and at my command they slowly encircle it in cobweb chains, ready for me to bring it to its knees with a tweak.

I am...

Drowning, in him, in me, in him in me, in me in him. In being trapped and alone yet not alone.

I am...

Craving and yet fearing those few precious hours when he leaves me and I am free. It is not freedom to lie, chained and sedated, in a cage, but for once I can think something and it is just for me to see. I hold onto the illusion of privacy, of hope. I wiggle my own numb fingers. I hold my breath, for the delusion of control. I clutch at it desperately, until the moment when he comes back and laughs at me and dashes the fragile fantasy to shards.

I am...

Sorry for my wife, my beautiful Jahar. I am sorry so many years of her life have passed empty and alone. I am sorry our marriage is cold and empty because I have another master, who knows things even she does not. A master who knows my body and my thoughts more intimately than she ever will. I am bound to him, and whilst I am there is no hope for my other marriage.

I am...

Revolted. A noxious cancer lurks in my head, curled up around my brain. Another creature is inside me! I want nothing more than the tear the vile thing out, to expel this slimy entity. Sometimes the sheer knowledge of what is inside me makes me expel my grass. Even the darkness, wrapped smugly around my mind, can not prevent the reflex reaction to my nausea.

I am...

Forgotten. A casualty of war. A warrior written off as dead, yet forced still to endure this eternal hell. It would be better that I were truly dead. Instead my life has been taken from me and yet I am not even allowed peaceful rest. Resignation feels like sinking into a warm bath. It is seductive, loosening my limbs, gently lulling me to accepting the gloomy forever.

I am...

No longer angry. I was once, thrashing in the net which holds me, fighting hard. I roiled in fury and madness, and I wish I could recreate my rage again because then I knew I was alive! Now I merely mourn what I have lost, what my wife has lost. I sink into sorrow because there is no point feeling any emotion when it is all futile.

I am...

A war prince. I cling to the hope that one day I will crack my own tail again and be truly free, not slumping, dazed, in a cage, but running across the hills with the wind in my face, screaming my name.

I am...

Alloran. Not Visser Three. That is him and this is me.

Can you hear me?

Can you hear me scream?

Because sometimes I don't even know if I do anymore.