The Perfect Imperfections [Invader Zim]
Gaz Membrane, who had just recently turned twenty one, stood in front of a tombstone. It was new, yet already there was a scratch on it, a flaw. An imperfection. It wasn’t that noticeable, but then again, humans weren’t that observant. She, on the other hand, could clearly see it. The scratch covered two words: devoted father.
Sickened, the young woman took out a cigarette and lighter, silver with a grotesque black skull on it. Putting the cigarette in her mouth she flipped open the lighter and lit the stick. She pocketed lighter, inhaling the sweet nicotine. Her eyes flew over the elaborate tombstone, the words ringing in her head, hollow and echoing.
Here lies Professor Membrane
An amazing scientist
A wonderful husband
And a devoted father
He will be dearly missed
1968-2014
Gaz snorted at the lies. That man was obsessed with work; he was a failure. He was unfit for a family, yet (or should she say so?) perfect for society. He quit when things didn’t go his way, when his experiments were flawed. When they were imperfect. She and her stupid older brother were proof of that, though he more than she. (At least, that’s what she told herself, time and time again. It had always seem like that, right? Right.)
Speaking of Dib, here he came now. She noted with disdain that he still wore a black trench coat, a stupid black shirt with a neutral smiley face on it, and his hair was still like a scythe in the front; his appearance had only vaguely changed from when he was a child chasing boogie men.
She detested him. She wanted to kill him. She wanted his life to be miserable. She wanted him to fear her. She wanted things to be like when they were young.
Dib walked up to his younger sister and stood besides her. He said nothing as he grabbed the cigarette out of her mouth and took a puff. She glared at him yet did nothing physical. She got no revenge. She was powerless against him and he knew it, loved it, took advantage of it. Call it retribution for all the years of abuse she put him through.
Gaz took out another cancer stick and did to it what she did to the previous one. She gave her brother a chance to read the markings on the giant stone before them. She chuckled inwardly as he noticeably narrowed his eyes and let out a menacing hissed.
There was awkward silence between the two before the elder sibling broke it. The words that left his mouth almost made Gaz agree with him. Almost. “He doesn’t deserve this. He was worthless.
“All that time he used us and neglected us. He’s considered a hero in the science world but in reality, he’s just a madman.”
“That’s something, coming from you,” she replied, blowing a ring of smoke. She knew jokes about his sanity still grated on his nerves and she loved it like she had only loved her video games before.
Gaz didn’t quite get the reaction she desired. Instead of ranting and raving or denying it, he gave a low, stark laugh. “Yeah,” he agreed. “I really am crazy. I mean, the only one I talk to is an alien who hates me and his equally mentally unstable robot.”
The purple haired woman gave a mental curse and brought her cigarette up to her lips. She watched in mild fascination as Dib did the same with his, only whereas Gaz left it there he inhaled deeply before removing it. He then blew out the smoke, ignoring how it fogged up his glasses.
“How is that stupid Irken?” she questioned detachedly, really not interested in the slightest.
“Eh, he’s as crazy as ever,” was the man’s reply.
There was more silence save inhales and exhales until, “So, I hear your next line of game consoles is coming out.”
“Yeah,” Gaz revealed. “They are. And with ten new games specifically for the console, five of which I made. I had a hand in two others.”
“You’re certainly going places,” Dib mumbled, his eyes glazed over. There was a hint of both pride and envy in his voice.
“Whatever,” she replied nonchalantly.
Those were the last words spoken between the two siblings as the schism that had already been there since their mother’s death-no, since their creations-opened up even wider and swallowed them both up whole. Gaz had the vague thought that it didn’t even need to chew; the food went down easily with no resistance.
Dib turned to leave; Gaz paid him no mind. They hated each other so why say goodbye? With their luck, they’d meet again, probably in some other unfair situation.
Lady Luck hates him, and me by association. Gaz shook her head, denying the notion; she didn’t believe in luck.
The woman, making sure her brother was long gone, dropped her cigarette to the floor and stomped on it, putting it out. She spit on the grave and cursed the Membrane name before turning around and sauntering off. As she left, she heard the voice of her brother when he was seventeen. When he had snapped. When she had finally used up all his reserves of kindness.
“I’m not going to take it anymore, Gaz! I might have let you and everyone else just walk all over me, but it’s not going to happen anymore!” The furious words rang in her ears before she shook her head vigorously, banishing the memory. It was best not to dwell on the past. She might end up insane like the rest of her family.