Sailor Moon and all associated senshi are the 
property of Naoko Takeuchi, Kodansha, Bandai, and a 
whole bunch of other people I either don't remember 
or don't know about.  Everything else, however, 
belongs to me, and is guarded by my vicious attack 
gerbils.  If you wish me to call them off, please 
ask nicely.

To contact the author, please write to me (Jelynne) 
at; jlynne33@hotmail.com


*4 A.M. - Image*


	Stumbling home at last, dragging my tired 
self along the street.  It's what, maybe two hours 
to dawn, and I've been up since just before nine or 
so.  The only thing keeping me going right now is 
the transformation.  I know that the second I drop 
it, it's la-la land for me.

	Oh gods, what a fight!  There is essentially
very little difference between dodging energy blasts
and dodging bullets.  Either way, if you get hit, 
you're going to *hurt*.  Which may explain why I'm 
limping.

	I hope I'll be better in the morning.  It's 
very hard to explain away major injuries gotten 
while I'm supposedly fast asleep in bed.

	And tomorrow I've got to pretend to be 
bright and cheery, lively and innocent.  Not the 
exhausted, unsmiling and serious warrior who's 
slumping her way home now.

	At times I wonder why I constructed my 
public persona like that.  I thought I could slide 
in and out of  it easily I suppose.

	Blonde.  Vacant eyes, mangled quotes, 
eternally cheery.  Save me.  Tomorrow I'll be 
running on the dregs of consciousness.  Maybe I 
could phone in sick.

	Oh yeah, sure.  I can just visualize it now.
‘Hello, I can't come to school today, I was up all 
night fighting for truth, justice, and the Japanese 
way.  I'm sure you understand.'

	And I can see the reaction too.  ‘Oh dear, 
the poor little airhead's snapped.  She must have 
been watching too many movies.  We'd better see 
about getting her some help.'

			***

	Trapped as a vapid little twit.  If I ever 
stopped acting that way, people would think I'd gone
nuts.  Even my own parents think I'm like that.  
Maybe even the others too.

	At least I've got volleyball.  I don't have 
to worry about how I'm acting when I play.

	I'm a warrior.  That's what I was born for.
I think I've always known that, even before I was 
summoned to battle again.

	So maybe that's why I've stuck my public 
personality in a holding pattern.  I've just always 
expected to have to abandon it.  Just leave it by 
the wayside, and get on with the fight.

	And boy, do I look forward to that day.  I 
know it's coming.  I can feel it like thunder on 
the horizon.  The day I break free of my 
self-created cage, and just the warrior is left to 
go on.