Who is Pandora?

I remember a meadow a few miles south of our house that occupied most of my afternoons. When my father was done with his morning teachings, I would always migrate there. The pine trees parted, revealing a clear blue sky…most days. Small yellow flowers danced with the green grass. I spent most of the time lost in thought. Looking back, it was silly. I thought about drama with the other children in the city…like who cast me a dirty glare on the street. I would daydream what it’d be like to live normal. Other times, I pretended I was a princess in some faraway land. 

Such time wasted on little thoughts. I have much bigger things to think about now. The biggest? Who am I? Others have their own opinion. King Menelaus, well, he thinks I am a monster. But he is more than willing to use this monster for his own advantage. To him, I am as Cerberus is to Hades, serving and yet untamed. Zeno also sees me as a monster, but maybe not as horrible. Yet, his opinion is shaped by the fact I am his competition. I can beat him in our kilometer sprints. I may not be stronger in hand-to-hand practices, but I am quicker. I stand in the way of him dominating daily tests. Therefore I hinder his pursuit of becoming general. He has never said it, but I know he sees an obstacle when he looks at me. And, worse, a girl. 

His view is annoying. I tire of the competition, especially as I nurse a sprained ankle from an “accident” he undoubtedly caused. That’s okay because he’s nursing a sprained wrist from the same “accident.” Like I said, he’s stronger, but I’m quicker. I still tire of the pursuit. It is not in me. Yet, even with the pain and torment, I would take that over the Captain. He sees an innocent child, which makes things worse. He treats me like a baby with his special privileges. There’s guilt in his eyes. He wants me to be a good warrior and I make him proud when I excel, but he hates training a girl so young. He thinks he is corrupting me. He thinks the boys torment is damaging to me, that I am a weakling he needs to protect. Doesn’t he see his “help” makes things worse? How am I supposed to fit in when he treats me different? 

I find it odd. They all have determined their opinions of me, but I haven’t figured it out. Am I a monster or a victim? A soldier or a child? Do I even like who I am? Do I want something different? Why can they make up their minds when they can’t read my thoughts? How do they know without a doubt who I am when it is a mystery to me? Who am I? Do you know? Can you tell me? Because I don’t think anyone has it right.