Alone in the flat, barren field
			she sits.
	Behind a night-black cloak that covers her soul.
	The only face that she has ever known
		was that of her mask.
	A mask of whom...?

	A mask of anyone...not her
	But inside she one was.

*   *   *   *   *

	There she sat, legs crossed in the empty field, in her world of inreality. The sun sat upon
the horizon as she waited, ever so patiently, for it to fall. Slowly, bit by bit, the golden ball sank,
the time arriving where she would begin her duty. The last line of light disappeared and she got
up, dragging her ever-present sack with her, the only sound of the masks clanging against each
other filled the stagnant air. She wrapped the cloak around her and placed the hood over her
head, covering everthing but her face. There, where the features once were, was a solemn mask,
a mask of many identities. She slung the sack over her shoulder. What was she? She is what she
had always been. She is the holder of identities. And she could feel-no, sense when someone was
in need.
	"You are alone, but you don't need to be. You are not what you appear to be. You are no
longer yourself." She scowled. The mask scowled. It was something deep inside talking, her
conscience, possibly. She tried to ignore the thought, but it didn't work. "Why do you do this?
Don't you see this as wrong? " the voice asked. She never questioned her job-it was given to her
from the very begining. If she didn't do it, who would? She had to do what she did.
	"Do you feel any guilt at all?"
	"I don't feel," she snapped. "How should you know what I am anyways? I won't listen to
you! Leave me alone!". The voice stopped talking. She sighed, then resuming to continuing her
job. She spun about, sensing for anyone in distress. She stopped, facing a point in the horizon
and began walking, determined to finish her destined task.
	She walked, for who knows how long, along with her sack. Soon she neared a large,
cloudy, black mass: someone's dream. She entered, darkness engulfing her.
	"Little boy? Little boy, where are you? I know you're here. Why don't you come out?"
	"What are you doing here?" the boy asked as he appeared from behind a shadow, as they
all did. She could see how scared he was, she could see how he felt and she knew just what he
needed.
	"What's you're name?" she asked, mischeviously.
	"Tommy."
	"Tommy, here I have a gift for you." She reached inside her sack and presented a mask to
him. "Have this."
	"W-What is it?" he asked.
	"It's everything you want to be-proud, courageous, strong. As she said the words the mask
changed to fit the description. "It is all that you can become." She smiled wickedly as he looked
at the mask."Come on, take it." He looked at her.
	"You wear a mask?"
	"Yes, yes. I wear a mask. And...and I an everything I want to be.
	"But yourself." She ignored the thought.
	"See-I am great." And the mask changed to someone that was so. "I am powerful." And
again the mask changed. "I am perfect." Yet again it happened. "Don't you want to be someone
else? Don't you want to change?"
	He stared at the mask held in her hands and slowly nodded. She smiled. "Touch it." He
did so. She could see a chill travel from his fingertips and move throughout him. "All you have
to do is hold it up to your face. It's simple. Come on." He slowly lifted the mask and held it
before him. Then all of a sudden, the mask jumped and clung onto his face. He struggled and
tried to pull it off, realizing he had made a mistake, but it was useless, nothing would male it
come off. She laughed evily as she ran off, to finish her night's work.
	"Why do you do this? Do you have any grief at all?" It was the voice again.
	 "Be quiet!" she yelled. "I-I have to do this," she said, more calmly, "I have to."
	"You hate doing this. Why don't you take off the mask. You want to lose the mask." 
	"No I don't!" she screamed.
	"But-"
	"I don't! Now be quiet. The night is still young and there are many I must visit before
dawn.
*   *   *   *   *

	Night after night she went to those who were uncertain of their feelings, those who
wanted to be someone else, those who were scared of life. For as long as she had remembered,
for as long as she had existed, this is what she had done.
	"Aren't you tired of doing this every night? Your mask must be a burden."
	"No, I will not listen to you. You must be lying. Look at all that this mask has given me. I
can be anything I wish with this."
	"Yet what about-"
	"There is nothing to question! Nothing at all. Stop bothering me. I won't listen anymore.
There are more important thongs to do," the holder said. The sun was slowly setting. A red glow
that had been growing upon her face suddenly vanished. She got up, sensing yet another needy
soul, continuing as she has always did.

	The girl looked in the mirror with disgust. She didn't like the way she looked. She didn't
like the way she acted. She didn't like the way she felt. She needed something to change who she
was. She sighed, tired. The girl hopped into bed and shut off the bedside lamp. She stared at the
dark ceiling as she dozed off, hopingg to be someone new when she awakened.

	The holder neared her dream-an area of great confusion and despair. "Hello? Is anybody
there? Are you awake?" she asked while searching about.
	"What...W-Who are you? What are you doing here?" she asked as she appeared.
	"Tell me, tell me your name."
	"It's, it's Mary."
	"It doesn't matter who I am, Mary. What matters is this." She brought out a mask from the
sack. "Here, take this." She held the mask out to the girl.
	"What is it?" Mary asked.
	"It's everything that you want to be. It's everything that you need. It's the new you. Don't
you want it?" she said tauntingly. "You can change the way you look with this, you can change
the way you act, you can change the way you feel." She knew this was all only a lie, but her
mask kept the truth concealed.
	"All you have to do is wear it. Take it. Please...I know you want it."
	"I...I don't believe you. It's not possible. I don't trust you."
	"It is possible. Look at me, and all that I am. You need it." Mary looked at the mask,
confused and unsure. "Fine then, if you don't believe me, I'll go away, but I'll leave the mask. It'll
be you're choice to take it or not." She placed it on the ground, infront of the girl. "It can only
make your life better," she said as she walked away. She knew that the girl would take it, she
needed it; they all needed it. But then she stopped and turned around, looking at the girl.
Something familar was occuring...

	"She is you," her conscience said.
	"What?"
	"She is just like you. Don't you remember?"
	"What are you talking about? I have never been her. I am what I have always been-the
holder of identities," she said angrily.
	"I guess you don't remember, after all. Let me take you back to where it all began." A
bright, blinding light surrounded her and the scene changed. Instead of Mary looking down at the
mask, it was someone else, a different girl.
	"What is this?"
	"It's you. This is how it all started. You were only a girl, just like Mary."
	"What are you talking about?"
	"Look closer." It was indeed her, but she was so different from her form now that she
was nearly inreconizable. The features were clear, and innocent; different from now. Now her
features seemed distorted and blurred.
	"I...I was once her?"
	"Yes."
	She began to envy her former self. Her life then was so much more than now. "And I
became this? How can that happen? How can that be?" she wondered in disbelief.
	"It was the mask." She looked at the girl, herself, in the scene. The girl was looking at the
mask on the ground, studying it's every curve, it's every bump, It's every line. She knealt down,
her hand ready to touch it.
	"No!" she cried to the girl. "No! Don't do this! You don't want what you'll become. You
don't want this!"
	"She can't hear you."
	"But I have to do something!"
	"What can you do?" The girl touched the mask, the coldness filling her. She slowly
picked it up and lifted it to her face.
	"Stop! You're making a mistake!" she cried helplessly. She ran towards the image, but as
she neared, it disappeared into nothing.
	"It's only a memory," the voice said.
	"Why, why did I ever do this? Why did I ever decide to become this?"
	"You were scared and afraid. You needed something to hide behind. But now, your life is
no better than before." She realized now, how truly misereable her life was.
	"I...I want to change. I hate this empty life. I don't want to do this anymore. I no longer
want to be someone else.I want to be myself. What can I do?" she asked out in despair. There
was a empty silence.
	"Take off the mask."
	"Is...is it possible?"
	"If you try." She took a deep breath and lifted her fingers to her face and touched it,
feeling the surface of the mask. Her fingers travelled along the rim of it.
	"Pull." She did so, with all the strength she could muster, but nothing happened.
	"I-I can't. It's too hard.
	"Pull, you can do it," the voice encouraged. She tried again, harder, but still nothing
happened.
	"It's not possible."
	"Yes it is. You know it is. You just have to find the strength."
	"It's been too long. I have no strength left."
	"Yes you do. Don't give up. Anything's possible if you try! Now try!" Again her hands
lifted up to her mask. "Now pull!" She did so. She reached down into what was left in her soul
and pulled. With every bit of will power she had and with every hope that was held within her
she pulled. Pain erupted in her face and a inaudible cry escaped from her lips.
	And the mask, at last, fell. It flew across the air and landed on the floor, shattering into
infinate pieces. Yet again, a blinding bright light filled the air.
	"You're free at last."

*   *   *   *   *

	She woke, surprised and refreshed. There was something different today. Something was
gone today. A great burden had been lifted from her. She could feel it gone...she could feel.
	She jumped out of bed and opened the windows. The sun was shining bright, promising a
new day full of real dreams and hopes. The world was clear, nothing obstructing the veiw. She
looked into the mirror, into her reflection. All that she could see was herself, and herself only,
smiling back.

*   *   *   *   *
	
			Where one holder dies...
					     ...another is born.

	Mary observed the mask before her, studying it's every curve, bump and line as the last
one had. She knew she wanted it. She knew she needed it. She reached for it, the cold, tingling
sensation growing. She placed it upon her face, becoming yet another holder of identities, for
there will always be a need for something for someone to hide behind.