There is a character from an old TV animation that I watched when I was younger. When his name was written in a powerful book, he was summoned to do the bidding of the heroes of the show. He would wear a mask of paper, with his name written upon it, that covered his entire face. The mask made him anonymous; I don’t remember his name. This is my mask. It is soft and comfortable, and carefully woven with precious metal and jewels, like the concern and protection of my mother. With her, my future is also written in the book, and I am also anonymous.