Anastasia's Journal

This girl has got a smile
That can make me cry
This girl just burns with love
She's burning deep outside

Once upon a time there was a girl. She was not born so much as made, tailored to specifications like a customized prom dress. The long legs of a ballerina, the arms of a young mother, the face of a painter, the hands of a concert pianist. She was laid out in pieces like a patchwork quilt, and the stitching began in earnest. When all was said and done, the girl lay there like Frankenstein's monster, auburn curls set in perfect ringlets, mismatched eyes of blue and green because her mother couldn't decide which she liked best, a cupid's bow mouth. Her mother bowed over her, painting her with fine-tipped brushes, lining those exotic eyes, tracing that pouting mouth, polishing those perfect nails. Then the magic had begun.

She flies outside her cage
Singing girl-mad words
I'll keep her dark thoughts inside
As black as stone and as mad as birds

Anastasia was a doll, quite literally a thing for her mother to coddle and play dress up with and mold to her own likings. Ana was not truly alive, so she could not age, could not die. Could not leave her mother; she had a dependency, you see. A special powder created in Haiti made of puffer fish toxins and many other ingredients, ground with a mortar and pestle and put into tiny, elaborate jeweled vials worn on chains--- this was what caused Anastasia to be able to walk about, to speak, to dance. She bowed her head over it ever so often, sniffed it deep into her lungs, and moved through life with the easiest of imitation. It was the way of the world as she knew it.

I try to talk, the sky goes red
I forget to fill my head
With some of every word she says
"I'll lose my life to feel..."

As the years have gone by, Ana has begun to develop her own personality. She is bright enough and inquisitive, always interested in learning and absorbing everything around her. She sees beauty in things and can be very childlike due to her careful upbringing; she enjoys things like tea parties, toys (especially old antique ones), fireworks, and flowers. She gets along well with children, mainly because mentally she is still one in many ways, and that is why her act is geared more toward the harmless, childish end of the spectrum. She laughs quite frequently, though not always at appropriate times (she's still learning what these are!), and she is very eager to please and afraid of getting into trouble with her mother. She has to go in for 'maintenance' from time to time; Delilah has to tighten or reinforce her stitches, mend new wounds, etc. Ana does not bleed and her heart does not beat; however, she can feel emotions and is actually very empathetic to the point of being fragile and overly sensitive at times. She is kind and a true innocent who does not understand the concepts of evil, selfishness or death; she was harbored from all of that since her 'birth'. She merely lives in her own little world and invites others to visit her in it from time to time.