Rewind

he met on the set. My parents, that is. Both unknowns, barely off the street. They were starring in in the serial, "Terran Special Force". He was the young agent. She his plucky companion. They were in love, or so the script said. Its always amazing how reality can follow art.

The series, despite being tacky, was very successful. It went out every day in the end. My parents, or at least the characters they portrayed became cult figures.

The show had been running for two years when I was born. It would have run for much longer if it hadn't been for the crash. Both killed instantly. I escaped with serious injuries. I was only a baby at the time.

The authorities tried to have me adopted, but my injuries were too serious. Instead, I became a permanent fixture in this nursing home. I wasn't short of money. My parents had earned a lot, and barely had time to spend any of it.

It was here that I first saw the series. It was always being repeated. Nobody told me at first that it was my parents acting in it. It was quite a shock. Soon I had collected all seven hundred odd episodes on tape. I had little enough of my parents'. Little enough to hang on to.

I had a large screen installed in my room, along with an autoload video unit to hold them all in. The remote control unit was built into the arm of my chair. I sat and I watched. There is little more I can physically do.

I watched the first episode. Didn't they look young? He had eyes only for her. She had eyes only for the camera. Over the following months, I watched how their friendship blossomed. From mere acting, to a loving relationship. I watched their first screen kiss, and the many that followed it. I watched the episode from their wedding day. How happy they looked! From then I looked hard for the wedding ring on her finger, but only noticed a thin white band of skin occasionally. I watched as the days turned into weeks, and the weeks into months for signs of myself, growing in my mothers womb. I watched the episode from the day my conception was made public. I noticed how in future episodes, my mother's clothes turned from stylishly sleek, to styli-shy frumpy. I watched and I watched and I watched.

And when I had finished watching, I pushed the rewind button and started to watch it all over again. Still I watch. I have forgotten how many times I have seen it now.

How can I know what was acting and what was real? What value can I put on words of love passed between them? Was it all a pretense? How can I ever be sure?

I rewind to the famous first love screen. The one where they passionately kiss. He has to leave her wounded, in hostile territory, and complete the mission on his own. He is torn between his orders and his love for her. How many times did they do that scene? How much real passion was there in that kiss? Were her eyes damp with love, or was it just good acting? She was only eighteen at the time.

I rewind again, and flick through a frame at a time. I watch as he cradled her in his arms, and covered her mouth with his. It looks real enough to me, but I linger on each frame anyway. How can I ever know?

I am not disturbed as much from my watching, as I was in past years. People do not visit me any more. I don't miss them. My doctor calls me obsessive, but he doesn't really understand. How can he? He was not an orphan. He knew his parents. I'm only left with hundred of hours of electronic shadows. Lieing, or acting, its all the same. I feel my only hope is to watch and try to understand.

I have long since learned every episode. Every scene, every line, yes even every gesture. I speak their lines as they do. Laugh when they laugh. Cry when they cry. I live the lie they lived, and yet I still am not satisfied. But what more can I do? So I rewind and watch again.

Rewind and watch again..........rewind and watch again......