Kroton's Journal
I discovered a couple of days ago that a long-range shuttle was going
to pass the planet I used to call home. On a whim, I opted to
take a trip back to see how things were going since the attack. I
was upset to find that things weren't going at all.
The survivors didn't rebuild. They made the colony's origional
location a memorial for the ones that were taken, and built a monument
in the center of what used to be the town I grew up in. The
monument was a tower of replicated marble, and it was probably about
twenty meters high. After its construction, the survivors left to build new lives
for themselves.
It gets worse.
The base of the monument had a display case fitted into it containing pictures of all the people the Cybermen had taken. My picture was there, and at the bottom of the base was a listing of all the people that financed the monument's construction. My parents were listed. I must have stood at the base for a good thirty minutes contemplating the discovery.
My parents are alive. There's a voice that keeps telling me I should see them, but I know that if I did, it would be for purely selfish reasons. I want to seek them out in the hopes that my mom will offer me the love and support only a mother can provide her son, while my father works to inspire me with his words and set me on the right path. It's crazy because when I was human, I had out-grown such needs a while ago. It's unfortunate, but I think I'm going to have to do so again.
Right now, they think their son died bravely trying to protect our home. They built a monument and left. No doubt they remember me fondly, and will mourn until the pain fades.
I've decided to let them. What right do I have to show up with a face and body identical to their most unpleasant experience, and tell them that their son has turned into what they probably fear the most? What right do I have to crush them with the knowledge that I'm back, but will never be able to smile at them again, or give them grandchildren?
No. It's not going to happen. Let them grow old and die remembering me as someone they can be proud of. I'm going to remain a dead man, and just do everything I can to live up to their expectations of me.
It gets worse.
The base of the monument had a display case fitted into it containing pictures of all the people the Cybermen had taken. My picture was there, and at the bottom of the base was a listing of all the people that financed the monument's construction. My parents were listed. I must have stood at the base for a good thirty minutes contemplating the discovery.
My parents are alive. There's a voice that keeps telling me I should see them, but I know that if I did, it would be for purely selfish reasons. I want to seek them out in the hopes that my mom will offer me the love and support only a mother can provide her son, while my father works to inspire me with his words and set me on the right path. It's crazy because when I was human, I had out-grown such needs a while ago. It's unfortunate, but I think I'm going to have to do so again.
Right now, they think their son died bravely trying to protect our home. They built a monument and left. No doubt they remember me fondly, and will mourn until the pain fades.
I've decided to let them. What right do I have to show up with a face and body identical to their most unpleasant experience, and tell them that their son has turned into what they probably fear the most? What right do I have to crush them with the knowledge that I'm back, but will never be able to smile at them again, or give them grandchildren?
No. It's not going to happen. Let them grow old and die remembering me as someone they can be proud of. I'm going to remain a dead man, and just do everything I can to live up to their expectations of me.