THE
PANGS OF FAME
By Ammo
July 2000
Just a short
piece I though of while I should have been working.
Disclaimer:-
Paramount is god. They are the supreme
being of television.
Rating:-
PG/13
Time Scale:-
The future
Enjoy!
*-*-*
Sometimes I
wonder what exactly I had done in my past life to warrant all this. After so many years I would have thought I
would have gotten used to it by now, but no, fat chance. In fact, the older I've got the worse it has
become.
When I was
younger I lived happily with the fact. Actually, I was very proud of it, but
now it has all gone too far. I want my
own identification. I want to break
away from the mold I never asked to be cased in.
Everywhere I
walk, where ever I turn, I find people glancing at me, curiosity ruling their
eyes. I know what they're
thinking. It's always the same thing. Ever now and then, someone with enough
boldness will approach me, that question in their eyes. It's always the same.
"Aren't
you..."
"Yes,"
I usually snap back, not wanting to hear the rest of the sentence. It's either that or...
"Isn't
your..."
Of which
"Yes," is also the answer. I
know I often offend people by doing that, but don't they realised just how
repetitive the question is? How many
times do they think I've been asked it?
The worst
thing is, the older I get, the more like her I become. Every morning I look in the mirror and
almost cringe at the reflection I see.
Much longer and I believe I'll practically be her. I'm just thankful that I did not start off
looking more like her, although what I've got is enough. Same build, same expressions, same fine
features. The only main difference is
my height, I'm at least two inches taller thank goodness, the skin tone, of
which mine is just a bit more golden, different hair colour, as mine's dark,
well, all accept those reddish brown streaks that line it, and the eyes, mine
are brown her's are blue. So much for
small miracles then.
Sometimes I
wish I looked just that little bit more like Daddy.
I tried
talking to her about this once. Lot of
good that did. She just looked at me,
that quirky grin on her face and told me to "deal with it." Great!
I even tried
Daddy, hoping he could help with one of his stories or something, or at least
just listen. He did listen, but I could
tell that he found this almost as amusing as Mom had. He had always been so proud of his little 'Tiger' despite the
fact my curiosity had gotten the better of me on more occasions then I bare to
think of. Another thing I've inherited
then! He told me to be thankful that I
do look more like Mom then him, but I think this is due to the fact he still
really does love Mom and if their constant flirting is anything to go by, I'm
not surprised I have four younger brothers.
Now that's
another thing. They don't get the same
harassment, only me. Why? Because I'm a girl and I have the unfortunate
prospect of looking like my mother for the rest of my life. It wouldn't actually be so bad, except for
the fact, my mother is one of the most famous people around. Even now she's known by everyone and they
even made a film about her life. Good god,
a film! What is wrong with these
people? They even named it after a
program in the twentieth century at Uncle Tom's request; 'Lost In Space'.
Daddy
dragged the entire family to see it when it was first finished. Well put it this way, had it not been such
a... sore topic, I would have laughed.
Who ever it was playing Mom seriously pulled it off well, although I
don't think Daddy quite agreed. There
was a certain degree of artistic licensing.
Mom battling face to face with the Borg queen, (well I am presuming that
that didn't actually happen) and so on.
The problem was, Mom was now a real life hero and now I'm forced to feel
like the villain, not wanting to glorify in Mom's success.
But I have,
and now I want my own life and sometimes I wish my mother wasn't so
famous. Then I could be just like
everybody else, a nobody.
I've seen
the way people constantly watch her where ever she goes, whether it's walking
down a street or going to pick one of the boys up from school. Even now, people still ask her for
autographs which she graciously gives with a smile. She never gets fed up with the attention. It is her life after all. But god, all this because she blew up an
array, trapped her crew half way across the galaxy and refused to get a decent
hair cut? Oh please, it's preposterous,
but they love her.
Okay, so she
went one and one with the Borg, so did Picard.
She's been places no-one else has ever been, so did Kirk. She stranded her crew on the other side of
the galaxy and kept the man she loved at bay for over half a decade. Okay she it makes a great romance story, but
is it my fault she was such an idiot?
No it's not, so why do I have to bare the brunt of it all?
I love my
mother, dearly. Despite the fame, she
had always been there for me and my brothers.
Always ready to listen, always ready to drop what ever she is doing.
Maybe
though, all this does have a good side.
Restaurants will find you a table.
People listen to what you have to say.
A lot of people want to be my friends...
Or maybe not
then.
One thing's
for certain though, all this has set me a high target to aspire to and maybe a
time will come again when someone will say...
"Isn't
your mother Kathryn Janeway?"
And I'll be
able to say, "Yep," knowing that I've achieved almost as much as she
has.
*-*-*
