Faith the Twenty-Seventh

I was made in 2121
When they finally perfected cloning
As well as aging techniques
For the clones

Then I was sent back in time
Which is how I wound up here
At this party

I'm very glad I managed to live until now

The first clones all turned into apricots
Within minutes of being born
And not good apricots either

Rotten apricots
Which are the worst kind of rotten

The first Faith clone was a blue apricot

How horrible is that?

I'm very glad that I'm Faith the Twenty-Seventh

I suppose I could also have been Faith the Twenty-Fifth
Or the eighth or the blue apricot

I suppose it may be something I just don't remember

. . . . .

So why get upset about it?

I take joy in knowing
That I'm one of the few clones
That can be friends
With their Original

Faith and I are best buddies

I love when she asks me questions
About what I like

Or rather, what I still like

'Do you still like spaghetti with nothing but grated cheese on it?'

'Nooooooooooo'

'Do you still like movies with princesses?'

'Yesssssssssssss'

'Do you still get sad?'

'...Sometimes...'

That's what she always asks me

Do I get sad?

I suppose I do

But it's a different sort of sad

It's an adult sad

And to be honest with you

And I have to be honest

Because they took out my ability to be dishonest

To be honest with you

I don't remember what child sad feels like

I was only a child for three months

Then they aged me into my teenage years

I got to be twelve for an hour

It was an awkward hour

I spent most of it sleeping

I met Faith the First when I was twenty-two

I baby-sat for her
While her mother went out for the night
And left her with that old woman
Who fell asleep watching an old person movie

She asked me what I still like
And I asked her what it's like being a child

I've only experienced three Christmases
And I don't celebrate my birthday very much
Because I seem to have them so often

I'm looking forward to being twenty-seven
Because I'll be Faith the Twenty-Seventh
At twenty-seven

. . . . .

None of the other Faiths made it to twenty-seven

. . . . .

That's sad, isn't it?

I hate being sad

Adult sad is not a nice kind of sad

They say that when I die
Which I will
Because everything dies
Even if I were the most well-made clone ever
I would still die

Anyway, they say that when I die
They'll take away Faith the Twenty-Eight's ability
To feel sad
Which will be very nice for her

Plus she'll be named Faith the Twenty-Eighth

Isn't that fun?

Sometimes I see Faith looking at me

She's trying to figure out
Whether or not I'm pretty
Because she thinks that'll tell her
Whether or not she's going to be pretty

I keep telling her that pretty
Is something you live into

And I didn't get a chance to live into anything
So she really can't go by me

But still she looks

So I smile

And she smiles back

And we don't look anything like each other

It's very strange

. . . . .

Sometimes I pretend she's my daughter
Because I'm not going to have a daughter

Clones can't

At least, not yet

They haven't figured out a way to make us...

...Able

So I pretend Faith is my daughter
Because she acts like me
Even if she doesn't look like me

We sneeze the same way
We say 'ewww' the same way
We're both scared of open-toed shoes

I imagine that she's my daughter
And that I'm her mother
And I have her tell me her dreams
And I pretend that I don't know they're going to change
Even though I know they will
Because they don't sound like the dreams I have

She's like a story I know the ending to
An ending I don't like

So I try to stay focused on the beginning
Because in the beginning
Everything's just wonderful

And I see that sometimes I make her sad
Because she looks at me
And understands that one day she'll have to get older
And her dreams will change
And she'll still be afraid of sandals

And it seems like a bad deal
And I suppose it is

But it can't be helped

It can be improved

I suppose by Faith the Thirtieth they'll have it
Or Faith the Eighty-Seventh
Or Faith the Hundredth

I suppose

But they didn't get it with me

They didn't get me right

I'm not perfect

I'm afraid
I'm sad
I'm worried
I'm distracted
I'm old

But I can take comfort in knowing
That one day they'll fix all that

I can take comfort in hope
In the hope I have for Faith

For...my little girl

Maybe by the time she's twenty-seven
They'll have it all worked out