Joy

I am a photographer. Not with film or battery, but with my mind's eye. Some pictures I have are old with the forces of time taking their toll while other pictures are as fresh as the first day of Kindergarten. In a recent photograph, I focused in on one of those unlikely characters you hope you don't run into some time within the next millennia. Her name is Joy.
Joy is the oxymoron of her name. She is neither Joyous nor happy in any sense of the word, but she is one of my best friends just the same. I can't say I remember the day I stumbled across Joy to be completely honest, but I will say I remember the first impression she branded on me. Having raised herself from childhood- her father was a War Veteran and her mother died while she was still impressionable- Joy was not the product of some one else's ambitions, but solely her own.
As the years flew by, Joy became mine, and most everyone's peace of exoticness. She would tackle you without warning if you had a sullen look on your countenance or just looked particularly juicy. Joy was known for her vegetarian, flower child views, but never poked fun at as most people of her sorts would be. Clothes were a particular comfort to look at on Joy. Not because she was a monster underneath them, but simply because she sewed them herself in the manner best fitting her mood.
Our Senior Year of high school was the time we look back on as Japanese Anime time. It was the Friday nights after being out later than we should have, where Joy, the poorly drawn cartoon figure, and all of our acquaintances, or strangers for that matter, became one with story line and life.
Once, after a particularly daring night of trespassing on property and violating it, we were walking as quietly as we could back to our vehicles. Our skin turned cold as we listened to Joy whisper to herself, "I think I will scream." And I have not heard a more compelling scream in my life. We ran as though our lives depended on it, sweating bullets, while the porch lit up with the lights of awakened sleepers of whose property we had trespassed.
I was always aware as to who was calling me on the phone when Joy's voice rang clear on the other line, "Hey idiot." Strangely enough, this pet name of her's for me has become a part of me. I answer immediately.
When I hear the word Joy, I cringe and smile inside for the photo she has engrained in me. Joy is just...Joy.