Chapter 1 – The Internet Friend
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I always thought that I’d forever be indebted to a jolly and chubby guy with a white beard. You know, that old man who flies around on a sleigh of reindeer and gives presents to the little kids, but is really an icon for mass marketing schemes. That guy. He was my savior.
No, I never met him. But he made December my most favorite month of the year. I was a big fan of his, though for different reasons than the norm.
Around the start of November, the adults would remind us about this saint named Santa Claus who would reward us with presents if we were good. So the kids would behave... for the most part. They would even leave me alone, until Christmas day, which was nice.
That was the day of the annual orphanage open house event. The adults passed out presents to the children they thought were good enough. (These presents, by the way, were the items donated by charities throughout the year.) That was what the older children looked forward to by their pre-teen years because by then, adoption had become a distant dream.
Of course, things change. The older kids eventually figured out that the whole Santa Claus thing was just a hoax.
Who could blame the adults though for encouraging the charade? Miro was crazy at that time of year with the sales, and the adults wanted time off from their jobs. They had families. They wanted to spend time with them at this time of year, not orphans.
Head Girl was the one who figured out the saint was a fictional character last year, and she let slip of the fact to the clique of older kids at the orphanage. So now they were able to continue their bullying into the last months of the year, as long as they were subtle about it. There were many “accidents” which involved me tripping into a pile of dishes or knocking over something and making a mess.
I had learned that there was no point in telling one of the adults what was going on. They got paid their fixed salary. They were content. What was one child to them?
I had food and shelter, the essentials of life. Time had passed since summer, and I was used to once again, how life had always been in the orphanage. But that summer was the last straw, giving this little seed its first crack, yearning to see some sunlight. All that was needed now was the catalyst—the trigger. That came one fateful day before November.
/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /
October 31st was one of the worst days of the year. It was the last day the kids could pull pranks on me as openly and not be punished, which they took full advantage of.
At lunch, I had knocked over a vat of soup, but unexpectedly, the timing caused the soup to spew all over the floor and Head Girl. Needless to say, I cleaned up the entire mess, as well as a mountain of dishes, as punishment. I was given a sandwich made with the moldy cheese for lunch when I finished.
It had taken so long to clean up that it was 5:50. I downed my dinner on the way to the teacher’s office. She was strict and distant, but at least didn’t play things completely by the book like the other adults. If I wasn’t one of her most favorite students, I wouldn’t have been able to use her prized laptop for a little bit. That was the one thing I had to look forward to each day.
Before I knocked, I shook off any crumbs on my clothes; I didn’t want to make a mess in the room. I timidly knocked on the door. It creaked open to reveal the room—bookshelves of binders and papers that obscured the desk—and I slowly entered.
By the desk, the teacher said, “I didn’t think you were coming today. After what you did at lunch, I don’t know if you should even use the computer.”
“I-I’m sorry,” I mumbled. I’d lost count how many times I apologized this year, let alone today.
I wasn’t paying attention to what she said. It was the same thing she said as always, but with different words. Eventually she stopped talking and said, “Five minutes.”
No time was wasted flicking the laptop on. As soon as it booted up, the internet window popped up on the Miro town web site. There were some interesting headlines, a mixed bag of the usual: the pumpkin bakeoff; the costume contest; a missing teenage report.
However, I didn’t have time to read any of that stuff with a few minutes. Besides, who cared what was going on in Miro? I typed in the URL address for a forum which I had stumbled upon a few months back. A long post awaited me in a private thread from my friend.
Tangy_Orangey @ 4:11 PM
Looksus is exciting today because everyone has been waiting for Halloween.
We all will dress up in dark cloaks with pumpkins on our heads and try to get
a lot of candy! What are you going to do? ^^
That sounded like it would be quite the event and possibly a lot of fun. Sometimes, I wondered if Tangy—her nickname—was exaggerating. Like, there was a week in September when she was ecstatic over a sport fair in which she claimed that almost everyone in her town participated in.
I typed a short response.
AmberLuce @ 5:52 PM
I got the second volume of Clashing Fates from the library. I’m reading it tonight.
I wondered what I’d do on the laptop next with my time left. There were the message boards that I could browse, but there wouldn’t be much time to find a thread worth posting on.
However, when I went to the next page, I got a notice saying that Tangy had responded to the thread. So quickly! That could only mean that she was online.
Tangy_Orangey @ 5:54 PM
Wow your online right now! ^^
Im glad that you finally get to read it! But still you should do something
special today. Doesn't your town do something special on holidays?
I almost typed, What is so great about the last day of October?, but saying that could lead to explaining why I didn’t like October, possibly leading to the fact that I lived in an orphanage, which I was trying to forget while I was online.
AmberLuce @ 5:57 PM
Just because the last day of October is called “Halloween” doesn’t mean that
everyone in Miro's going to waltz out of their houses onto the cold streets and
run around wearing pumpkins. Well, there's a baking contest or something
going on today...
I tapped the refresh button every few seconds, waiting impatiently for her response.
I tried to visualize in my mind’s eye what Tangy might be doing at that very moment. I pictured a girl about my age, give or take a year, sitting in front of a computer in a well furnished room—possibly her bedroom. She might have blonde, flowing hair, that went some length past her shoulders, and her blue eyes would be looking at the monitor, waiting. Or she could be an imaginary person inside of the computer. It didn’t really matter, either way, but it was more fun to imagine.
Tangy_Orangey @ 5:59 PM
Why dont you go to that, Tay? Baking sounds fun! It might be my next hobby...
Its almost 6! gtg!
I sighed when I saw her log off. Then again, it was six o'clock. The teacher looked up over her files, and I reluctantly logged myself off as well.
I really did wish I could go to some kind of event in town, but I was practically trapped inside this building. But I really did have a book to read. I wandered back to the bunkroom upstairs. The room was deserted, of course. Everyone was outside playing. That was fine because it would be nice and quiet in my little corner of the world.
Surprisingly, the book was where I left it under my pillow. Something was missing though. My treasure. The red scarf. It was not there. Gone.
Panic fluttered up my throat, but I tried to hold it down and thought back to the last time I had the scarf. It was yesterday. I wore the scarf around all day. Then at night, I folded it and put it under my pillow. So someone took it. That was the only explanation. Head Girl must be behind this. Ten times out of nine, it was.
She probably took it to wear for herself since it was starting to get cold. If that were the case, I would probably never be able to wear the scarf again. I absentmindedly twirled my bangs around with my index finger while lost in thought. Yes, if that were the case, then I would have to take the scarf back and then hide it somewhere really safe. Like under a floorboard or something.
It was the only memento I ever had of my very, very first friend. At least, I associated that scarf with memories I had buried. Either way, I didn't want to lose that item too.
With a rationale established for the missing scarf and a skeleton of a plan forming, I was able to file the thought away for later. Tonight I would let the subject weigh on my mind. Thinking could be done when the lights were off. Reading could not.
Chapter 2 – Red, Everywhere
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It was midnight.
Actually, it was fairly close to midnight. Sometime before then. Everyone had fallen asleep, but I was wide awake with the lost scarf on my mind. It was missing, probably stolen. I needed to somehow recover it and then hide it someplace safer than under my pillow.
That explained why I was up so late, not why I was standing downstairs.
I figured maybe I could sneak onto the laptop and make a post on the forum to Tangy. It wasn’t like there was anyone else that I could talk to who might understand. Before Tangy, I had Tr—no. There was never someone. No one, no one, no one.
So I could give Tangy a description of my plight, lightly smudging a detail here or there. I hadn’t told her very much about myself, just my real name. She hadn’t told me much about herself either though, just that everyone calls her Tangy. So she didn’t know that I lived in an orphanage; she probably just thought that I was a normal kid like her. But maybe someday, I would tell her more about myself, and I’d learn more about her.
The air was freezing, even though it was inside, so I wore my jacket. I tried the door and was startled to find it unlocked. I was anticipating that I'd have to pick the lock, not that I was complaining. It normally would’ve taken me an hour, at best, to get the door open, if I really had to. Lock picking wasn't exactly my forte.
I tiptoed inside the room. The laptop was left on the desk, where it usually sat for charging, only it was not charging. Warily, I held the laptop up to check that the cord wasn’t underneath. The charger cord was not there. Another missing item. “More Head Girl mischief?” I wondered.
Then I froze. The door was unlocked. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. She wouldn't happen to be awake at this hour, would she?
It occurred to me that I was just standing in the middle of the room holding the laptop. What if Head Girl was awake and what if she came into the room?
But I had to go on the forum. I would post my scarf dilemma quickly so that when Tangy went on in the morning, she would see my post. Maybe I could sneak online later on that afternoon. Yes, that would be a good plan.
About when I decided this, a tremor shook the orphanage, and I nearly was knocked off my feet. I peered out of the room down the hall. Everything looked okay at first, until I caught a whiff of a particular odor. Monotone alarms went off, and the top most air in the hallway became a cloudy dark grey. Smoke! The orphanage was on fire!
The adults were shouting, running about the building to rouse the sleeping children from the bunkrooms. They were leading the little ones, blind from sleep, to outside as quickly as possible. No one seemed to notice me.
I hacked hoarsely. I was still standing rooted to my spot when my brain finally kicked into action. I had to get out of there! I could now hear the flames eating away at the ceiling upstairs. I must have been directly under the source of the fire. A portion of the ceiling that was in flames crashed down, and the blaze began to spread.
I stumbled through the thick smog out of the nearest door I could find in the chaos to outside. There was no more time for thought, just survival and surviving. After reaching outside, I kept on going and going and going down the street until my heart was no longer thumping in my ears.
I was about a block away from the partially burning orphanage when I turned around to look at the sight. Outside stood a crowd of people—the orphans and adults. From behind me, sirens wailed, steadily growing louder. The fire truck. I got out of the street just in time for it to whiz by me.
The abrupt wind the vehicle kicked up reminded me how cold it was outside. I loosened my grip on the laptop I was clutching close, as if I had been shielding it from harm when I ran. Half of myself said that I should follow after the truck and rejoin the group of orphans who stood by the adults. They would be finding shelter someplace for the night, and then in the morning, the adults would figure out what to do.
But I was too tired from the event that just the mere thought of going back the distance I’d come from seemed crazy. Kind of like swimming across a lake and reaching the other side exhausted.
Circumventing the sewage drain, I took went up the concrete steps by the nearest building, the public library of Miro. I dropped against the wall, huddling in a corner by the double doors. I took my jacket off and used it as a small blanket.
Tomorrow, I told myself, I would find out where the orphanage shelter would be. But my conscience knew that was a lie I fed myself so I would sleep, believing that there was supposedly a plan.
The reality was, this seed had cracked. This seed was ready to for sun. This seed would not and could not turn back now.
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At some point, my conscience stirred to a slight awareness. I was not asleep, but not fully awake either. It was the cold that had stirred me. I didn’t feel my jacket anymore, but I was too tired to feel around for it. In a few minutes, I would probably just seep back into my slumber anyway.
Then I felt something furry, something warm, something heavy near my chest where my hands rested. Its rhythmically slow and constant purr lulled me back to sleep until morning.
~ COMMENTARY ~
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I've been writing my AC fanfic for a while on ACC [Animal Crossing Community]. I'm rewriting/revising some of the beginning to clean it up more. If there's a few interested readers here, I'll update Celestia here, as well as ACC. Anyways, thank you for reading!
The Animal Crossing Guild
This is a guild for anyone who basicallys loves Animal Crossing. Become a residence to the village, Chat, Roleplay, Raise Breedables
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