Hello again, PokéBeach! This time around, I've decided to post a story that I've been working on for over a year now. It's part of a series that I've had laid out for two years, and if you've read Turnabout Timber, you'll also recognize two of the main characters! This one is also a story I've written completely on my own, so the writing style is a little different from Turnabout Timber's, being in first-person rather than third-person (and Al Catraz works better in third-person than first-person, in my opinion).
This is a half-finished story, as I haven't quite finished it yet, but the plan is to post a chapter once a week since they get a little long. This is the plan for my future story releases, as I think a PDF may have turned away some readers of TT, but I still hope you guys check it out! Future Al Catraz releases I make will have the option of either reading the chapters on the page or downloading a PDF.
EDIT 7/7/2021: Like Turnabout Timber, a lot of the content in this story is outdated and may potentially be triggering? There is once again an autistic character who is written and treated poorly, and some ableism in scenes with the character. Unlike my other writing projects, though, this is actually something I've recently returned to and plan to finish now that I'm a more skilled and tactful writer. Will I update this thread with the finished and retconned version? Hard to say, but it depends how I'm feeling at the end of things.
Chapters will be collected here for easy access! They will be added as time goes on and new chapters are added!
Thanks guys! I hope you enjoy it!
This is a half-finished story, as I haven't quite finished it yet, but the plan is to post a chapter once a week since they get a little long. This is the plan for my future story releases, as I think a PDF may have turned away some readers of TT, but I still hope you guys check it out! Future Al Catraz releases I make will have the option of either reading the chapters on the page or downloading a PDF.
EDIT 7/7/2021: Like Turnabout Timber, a lot of the content in this story is outdated and may potentially be triggering? There is once again an autistic character who is written and treated poorly, and some ableism in scenes with the character. Unlike my other writing projects, though, this is actually something I've recently returned to and plan to finish now that I'm a more skilled and tactful writer. Will I update this thread with the finished and retconned version? Hard to say, but it depends how I'm feeling at the end of things.
A week after the rescue of Mr. Game's parents and the halt of a plan that could have taken over the entirety of Nintendopolis, Amber Tzaziki, Mr. Barry Game and Watch, and Ness Michelin are up on the former Death Egg to salvage any belongings before disposing of it via explosion. However, the Death Egg ends up exploding before our three heroes can get off safely, nearly killing them. When the three split their ways and go home, the three find a Post-It note addressed to them saying they had wanted them dead and that they had three days until the anonymous person would attempt to kill them again. The story follows the three's lives in these three days, from the explosion up until the final confrontation.
Chapters will be collected here for easy access! They will be added as time goes on and new chapters are added!
September 12, 2014 8:03 pm
Death Egg, above Onett, Eagleland
Hmm? Oh, the time? Okay, let’s see here…There. It’s 8:03 pm. How’d you get here, anyway? The sunset made the sky a beautiful orange colour, making every building in Onett glow shades of orange. Back up on the Death Egg, ready to blow it up, it was nearly time for the precious moment of a lifetime for Onett, in Eagleland, Nintendopolis. This thing used to belong to Dr. Eggman, and he used it as a sort of base of operations when he wasn’t busy being principal of The Academy for the Interspectaculars and the Dark. The reason I say ‘used to’ was because Dr. Eggman kinda disappeared last week after throwing Mr. Game off the Death Egg. Everyone—all seventeen thousand two hundred ten of us—was gathered in the central plaza, waiting for us to finish so we could destroy the Eggman Empire once and for all. Well, except for me, of course. I myself had an important part in this, but I can explain later. And I wasn’t the only one up here, either.
“Hey, do you think we could maybe pay one last tribute to this thing before you press the detonator? Fuzzy pickles, I want to check something out before we go ahead with this. I know it’s here. I can feel it. Fuzzy pickles.” asked my friend, Ness Michelin. Yep, I’m talking about that Ness: red cap with blue rim, yellow and blue striped shirt, blue denim shorts, and red shoes…But the Ness video games portray is way different than the real Ness who lives here. Back when I was younger, Earthbound was one of my favorite video games. It was up with my top 3! (The other two were Minecraft and Super Mario World.) But now that I know him in person, there’s no way a video game could prove the same satisfaction it once did. I mean, try living in a world where every Nintendo character lives, plus Sonic the Hedgehog and his buddies, and you’ll see that it’s much harder to get used to than you’d think. But anyway, personally, I didn’t care about the Death Egg anymore, so Ness could go somewhere in here if he wanted to. It was a highly advanced technology-central dome with multiple huge compartments for rooms, and it had pseudo-black walls with red rims, outlines, and details. Most of the furniture was a really deep gray color, and in every room there was a giant screen, flickering blue and gray. I don’t get how anyone could see where they’re going in there, but then again, I basically lived –nope, sorry, worked –here for four years. I just…Wait. What’s it? And why does he wanna get out of this room? The plan was to stick together and do some stuff here before going to the cockpit and taking a few souvenirs. Then we’d get out and press the detonator button. The Death Egg would then blow up, and hopefully no one would get hit by falling debris.
“Uh, sure…? But what do you mean by it, and why are you trying to detour from the plan? We’ve gotta stick together or something bad might happen! Remember? Eggman could still be here, and someone might sneak into the Death Egg and blow it up for us!” I responded. But I have a nagging feeling that this thing would explode much faster than I planned. Or even expected. The Eggman Empire was basically my childhood. It had come to Earth for a bit and recruited me for their team randomly because I looked like I could be useful. …Sorry. That’s not true. I’m lying. I asked if I could join because it looked fun to me. I was a stupid kid with no sense of justice, and everything that was bad looked like fun. I soon became one of the most valued members, being pretty skilled with a laser pistol and a tough hand-to-hand fighter. I worked for them starting when I was 6, after I ditched Bowser and his crew, and finally stopped when I was 10, but only for Mr. Game. Without knowing it, he helped me see the evil in what I was doing for a living and realize that. And only a few days ago, I had been up here trying to save Mr. Game’s parents, along with Ness and Mr. Game, but when he finally found out about my past with Eggman, he pushed me off the edge to die with the famed Quartam Sceptre. It can only be used by the chosen one, a singular Quartasia native who is chosen by the sceptre for their desire to make the world a better place for themselves and their loved ones, and has an extreme sense of justice. This person changes once they decide to have kids, or when they pass on. That’s what I was told a while back. Eggman had somehow been able to get a hold of it and control it, using it to hypnotize Mr. Game’s parents shortly after his birth. I babbled for a bit there, so let’s get back to before… Ness grabbed a parachute and jumped in after me, saving my life. I normally can’t die, thanks to an immortality patch I got when I came to be (and no, I’m not a natural child), but there’s actually a lot of circumstances where I can die. See, I have that immortality patch from two seconds ago in my left hip that was generated when the DeCodeHacker ran the .bat file, giving me immortality unless something happened to my left hip, such as a burn, puncture, a hard fall, or even a cut that’s deep enough. Oh, and poison, too. If something did happen, then I’d be dead the next second. Sorry I keep rambling off! I feel bad now! …Nope. That’s lying. So anyway, being here right now was pretty special for me.
“Doesn’t matter! I’ll be off at the cockpit.” said Ness, snapping back quickly. I didn’t think he should go alone, though. It would be dangerous, especially not knowing if Eggman was still around. I still remember what he did mere days ago. But my friend seemed to pick up the same hints I did. I mentioned him earlier. Hail the almighty…
“Wait, Ness! What if Dr. Eggman still resides here? You have no idea!” shouted Mr. Game.
“I’d actually agree with him. I don’t want anyone to be hurt before this combusts.”But little did I know that trouble would follow us anyway.
“You two really don’t understand… I’m going on my own, fuzzy pickles. You can’t stop me from doing that!” screamed Ness as he ran off, brushing up to me briefly. His voice had started to crack, as if something was troubling him on the inside. I can read those emotions thanks to Mr. Game. (He’s actually easier to read than a book meant for preschoolers, but what does it matter?) I picked up my scarf and bag, tying the scarf around my forehead like a headband, and Mr. Game picked up his scarf and wrapped it around his neck, before we ran after him. The halls were very narrow, making it hard to proceed with the chase, especially when the lights burnt out…but then I noticed something that put us in danger. Big danger. I patted my pockets, but to no avail.
“Umm…Mr. Game, where’s the detonator?” I asked. Oh Arceus. This was bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. What if one of us stepped on it, assuming I had dropped it? What if I put it somewhere stupid, and we wouldn’t be able to blow up the Death Egg? What if…if I had been mugged?
“Ness did come fairly close to you when he left, am I right? What if he has it?” suggested Mr. Game. “Otherwise, you just left it somewhere stupid, as you typically would.” He was trying to say Ness took it! No way!
“No, he can’t have done it! He’s an Interspectacular. They aren’t normally associated with evil. Besides, I happened to have rigged your bags with security cameras, and I’m not getting any readings of him mentioning stealing the detonator, nor do I have any reading of it in his bag!” I defended, starting to babble on a bit. I didn’t believe Ness could even have the heart to do something like that! After all, he’s a good kid. He’s a 13-year old with the burden of the JotI situation. By the way, JotI stands for Journey of the Interspectaculars. That name kinda came from the Academy and the newscasters who almost killed themselves trying to film the big fight against Eggman. (Personally, I have no idea how they even got up there. It might’ve just been his minions filming it and deciding to give it to the press. But I don’t know for sure. I have yet to watch it.) But when I defended Ness, I could feel my cheeks burning a little bit. Why? Mr. Game, though, disagreed with my point. He gave me a look.
“Funny you say that. You sound just like my father, how you said that they are not associated with evil desires and the like.” Whoops. Speaking like that gives him those awful memories. Mr. Watch used to think like that when he was hypnotized, and told it to Mr. Game’s face —in front of the entire school —crushing his hopes when he said he wished he never had a son. What was going through his mind?
“Hey, I’m sorry, okay? We just need to find out who’s got the detonator, or at least where it is! Let’s go! We can’t have Ness explode us! Even though I just tried to disprove that theory…” I replied, grabbing Mr. Game by the arm and dragging him down the halls. I would never let Mr. Game die like that. The one time he did, he pushed me off the Death Egg like I explained before, so I couldn’t do anything about it. I didn’t have any time to get back up to the Death Egg, and if I had caught Mr. Game midair, we would’ve both been dead since the force of falling through an unbreakable roof would kill me on the first second of impact. But if the Death Egg exploded? There’s a very, very small chance I live, considering the explosion would probably be equal to getting hit by a car at 88 mph. …Oh wow, did I really forget to introduce myself? I’m so sorry guys! My name’s Amber Tzaziki. You might’ve heard of me, but then again, you might not’ve. After all, you’re way over on Earth, and we’re living on this computer server called Nintendopolis. The famous DeCodeHacker built the server originally in 2000, shortly before he was arrested and jailed in late 2002, but days before his arrest, he had finished a project he had been working on: the first AI being that acted just like a human, to the point of denying its code at times and being able to think and feel for itself. He called it ambertzaziki.bat, and decided to try it since he wouldn’t be able to get a chance had he left it for later. But when he had ran the file, something went wrong. One letter was wrong, reversing a neutron and changing the code drastically. It gave me my immortality patch, and my inability to age after 12 years (I think), but most of all, my superpower. I’m able to look at official artwork for a videogame character and copy their signature abilities, such as Sonic’s speed or Mario’s jumping height. However, this only works in Nintendopolis, and there are setbacks, such as the fact that I can only copy an ability for 30 minutes, and that I can’t use the same power for the rest of the day. I can also only copy a single ability at a time. I had to do everything I could to save Mr. Game from a criminal when he was 12. He was being forced to shut down every means of technology by a lady named Tanya Missouri, and was generally not a good person. She also creeped me out, because Mr. Game’s face showed no emotion whatsoever and Tanya had been watching over him for the last 6 years at that time. I felt she was twisting and manipulating him to the point where it could've seriously hurt him. But this opened me up as well, helping me with my maturity issues and making me see that my association with some of the most evil video game crews was awful. Together, we reversed everything Mr. Game had done, and I managed to drive away the force behind Mr. Game’s fear: Missouri herself. I had to kill her by surrounding myself in an electricity blanket and charging into her. So we moved to Superflat City once we got to Nintendopolis and I gained custody of Mr. Game, but let’s put it this way: It didn’t go well. People bullied Mr. Game for who he was, and I nearly got expelled. Plus, Quartasia has special settings that modify reflex timing to match the natives, and though this didn't affect Mr. Game, there were times I thought my heart was going so fast I was actually gonna die. We relocated once again to Onett after earning the cash for a house from working in a sw—swa—swe—fancy hotel, and had a bunch of misadventures (and adventures) trying to settle in and other things I didn’t think we going to happen. It’s now September 12, 2014, just a week after restoring Mr. Game’s parents and saving them from the hypnotization they had suffered from for 13 years. I think that sums it up, so back onto the main topic! Sorry about that random tangent. I just wanted to let you know who I was. We were just outside the cockpit doors, knocking fiercely for Ness to let us in.
“HEY! NESS! LET US IN!! YOU THERE?!” I screamed.
“Ness! We are worried for you! Answer the door!” called Mr. Game. He then tugged at his bag, trying to detach the camera. There were no windows, so I couldn’t get a view of what was going on…or at least a clear one. I realized how I may have been able to get in on the action. It was really simple, actually!
“Here, I’ll check the security cameras. That might help.” I said. I took off my bag and opened it up, pulling out my monitor and trying to listen in. Yes, it had built-in speakers, too. I got all this stuff from the dump! I mean, we’re well off on financials right now, but I didn’t want to spend too much when I didn’t have to. After all, Ness’s mom has this awesome kit that lets me mess around with technology and refurbish it! It lets me add new features, too. That’s how we got our data plans on our PokeGear for free. “Listen closely, Mr. Game. This might help us find the detonator.” I put my head up to one speaker, Mr. Game the other. There was a bit of noise that sounded like moving boxes, and glass shattering.
“Oh my Arceus! I-I-It’s…it’s…” Ness spoke after a minute of silence. “S-so this is w-who k-k-killed my dad. I-It was E-E-Eggman all this time! I-I should’ve known…” Ness seemed to have been crying hard. And I can understand that completely! I mean, if my parents had died (and I don’t have any, at least not biologically), I’d definitely be looking for answers. And Ness found them. He was also looking for some sort of souvenir to take for us, too, as he mumbled to himself about it. Hearing his next sentence embarrassed me. “I’ll t-take this p-plushie of m-myself for m-me, and I-I’ll take this little plushie for Amber, t-too, and this other p-plushie for Mr. Game. T-They a-a-all look just l-like the r-r-real things.” cried Ness. Ah, yes… I remember making those. It was pretty hard, but being really stupid, I just assumed it’d be super-easy. I taught myself how to sew at about 4. Bowser had left some fabric and a needle lying around on his desk (or was it his?), so I grabbed it and messed around with it. I also remember packing all three of them everywhere I went. Bowser couldn’t make me go on a mission unless I could bring at least one, but then I eventually grew out of it. When I told Dr. Eggman, I could clearly see his relief.
“I feel remorseful for Ness. He has experienced the same pain as I.” said Mr. Game, relating to Ness. I could completely see where he was coming from, and he had it worse. Mr. Game has his parents, but they wanted nothing to do with him until he broke the trance on that fateful day. I haven’t seen Eggman since. “You should go see whether you left the detonator in the weapons forge. We cannot waste more time than we have already.” I started running off down the hallway, but I didn’t get to do that for long.
“I’d agree. It’s awfully kind of Ness to take those––AAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!” A giant white flash filled the air with immense force. I screamed in horror as I was pushed backwards faster than the Death Egg could travel––and that’s fast. It was definitely faster than a car going at 88 mph. I fell through the air quickly, as if Mr. Game had pushed me from the gate once again. Someone had set off the detonator.
Death Egg, above Onett, Eagleland
Hmm? Oh, the time? Okay, let’s see here…There. It’s 8:03 pm. How’d you get here, anyway? The sunset made the sky a beautiful orange colour, making every building in Onett glow shades of orange. Back up on the Death Egg, ready to blow it up, it was nearly time for the precious moment of a lifetime for Onett, in Eagleland, Nintendopolis. This thing used to belong to Dr. Eggman, and he used it as a sort of base of operations when he wasn’t busy being principal of The Academy for the Interspectaculars and the Dark. The reason I say ‘used to’ was because Dr. Eggman kinda disappeared last week after throwing Mr. Game off the Death Egg. Everyone—all seventeen thousand two hundred ten of us—was gathered in the central plaza, waiting for us to finish so we could destroy the Eggman Empire once and for all. Well, except for me, of course. I myself had an important part in this, but I can explain later. And I wasn’t the only one up here, either.
“Hey, do you think we could maybe pay one last tribute to this thing before you press the detonator? Fuzzy pickles, I want to check something out before we go ahead with this. I know it’s here. I can feel it. Fuzzy pickles.” asked my friend, Ness Michelin. Yep, I’m talking about that Ness: red cap with blue rim, yellow and blue striped shirt, blue denim shorts, and red shoes…But the Ness video games portray is way different than the real Ness who lives here. Back when I was younger, Earthbound was one of my favorite video games. It was up with my top 3! (The other two were Minecraft and Super Mario World.) But now that I know him in person, there’s no way a video game could prove the same satisfaction it once did. I mean, try living in a world where every Nintendo character lives, plus Sonic the Hedgehog and his buddies, and you’ll see that it’s much harder to get used to than you’d think. But anyway, personally, I didn’t care about the Death Egg anymore, so Ness could go somewhere in here if he wanted to. It was a highly advanced technology-central dome with multiple huge compartments for rooms, and it had pseudo-black walls with red rims, outlines, and details. Most of the furniture was a really deep gray color, and in every room there was a giant screen, flickering blue and gray. I don’t get how anyone could see where they’re going in there, but then again, I basically lived –nope, sorry, worked –here for four years. I just…Wait. What’s it? And why does he wanna get out of this room? The plan was to stick together and do some stuff here before going to the cockpit and taking a few souvenirs. Then we’d get out and press the detonator button. The Death Egg would then blow up, and hopefully no one would get hit by falling debris.
“Uh, sure…? But what do you mean by it, and why are you trying to detour from the plan? We’ve gotta stick together or something bad might happen! Remember? Eggman could still be here, and someone might sneak into the Death Egg and blow it up for us!” I responded. But I have a nagging feeling that this thing would explode much faster than I planned. Or even expected. The Eggman Empire was basically my childhood. It had come to Earth for a bit and recruited me for their team randomly because I looked like I could be useful. …Sorry. That’s not true. I’m lying. I asked if I could join because it looked fun to me. I was a stupid kid with no sense of justice, and everything that was bad looked like fun. I soon became one of the most valued members, being pretty skilled with a laser pistol and a tough hand-to-hand fighter. I worked for them starting when I was 6, after I ditched Bowser and his crew, and finally stopped when I was 10, but only for Mr. Game. Without knowing it, he helped me see the evil in what I was doing for a living and realize that. And only a few days ago, I had been up here trying to save Mr. Game’s parents, along with Ness and Mr. Game, but when he finally found out about my past with Eggman, he pushed me off the edge to die with the famed Quartam Sceptre. It can only be used by the chosen one, a singular Quartasia native who is chosen by the sceptre for their desire to make the world a better place for themselves and their loved ones, and has an extreme sense of justice. This person changes once they decide to have kids, or when they pass on. That’s what I was told a while back. Eggman had somehow been able to get a hold of it and control it, using it to hypnotize Mr. Game’s parents shortly after his birth. I babbled for a bit there, so let’s get back to before… Ness grabbed a parachute and jumped in after me, saving my life. I normally can’t die, thanks to an immortality patch I got when I came to be (and no, I’m not a natural child), but there’s actually a lot of circumstances where I can die. See, I have that immortality patch from two seconds ago in my left hip that was generated when the DeCodeHacker ran the .bat file, giving me immortality unless something happened to my left hip, such as a burn, puncture, a hard fall, or even a cut that’s deep enough. Oh, and poison, too. If something did happen, then I’d be dead the next second. Sorry I keep rambling off! I feel bad now! …Nope. That’s lying. So anyway, being here right now was pretty special for me.
“Doesn’t matter! I’ll be off at the cockpit.” said Ness, snapping back quickly. I didn’t think he should go alone, though. It would be dangerous, especially not knowing if Eggman was still around. I still remember what he did mere days ago. But my friend seemed to pick up the same hints I did. I mentioned him earlier. Hail the almighty…
“Wait, Ness! What if Dr. Eggman still resides here? You have no idea!” shouted Mr. Game.
“I’d actually agree with him. I don’t want anyone to be hurt before this combusts.”But little did I know that trouble would follow us anyway.
“You two really don’t understand… I’m going on my own, fuzzy pickles. You can’t stop me from doing that!” screamed Ness as he ran off, brushing up to me briefly. His voice had started to crack, as if something was troubling him on the inside. I can read those emotions thanks to Mr. Game. (He’s actually easier to read than a book meant for preschoolers, but what does it matter?) I picked up my scarf and bag, tying the scarf around my forehead like a headband, and Mr. Game picked up his scarf and wrapped it around his neck, before we ran after him. The halls were very narrow, making it hard to proceed with the chase, especially when the lights burnt out…but then I noticed something that put us in danger. Big danger. I patted my pockets, but to no avail.
“Umm…Mr. Game, where’s the detonator?” I asked. Oh Arceus. This was bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. What if one of us stepped on it, assuming I had dropped it? What if I put it somewhere stupid, and we wouldn’t be able to blow up the Death Egg? What if…if I had been mugged?
“Ness did come fairly close to you when he left, am I right? What if he has it?” suggested Mr. Game. “Otherwise, you just left it somewhere stupid, as you typically would.” He was trying to say Ness took it! No way!
“No, he can’t have done it! He’s an Interspectacular. They aren’t normally associated with evil. Besides, I happened to have rigged your bags with security cameras, and I’m not getting any readings of him mentioning stealing the detonator, nor do I have any reading of it in his bag!” I defended, starting to babble on a bit. I didn’t believe Ness could even have the heart to do something like that! After all, he’s a good kid. He’s a 13-year old with the burden of the JotI situation. By the way, JotI stands for Journey of the Interspectaculars. That name kinda came from the Academy and the newscasters who almost killed themselves trying to film the big fight against Eggman. (Personally, I have no idea how they even got up there. It might’ve just been his minions filming it and deciding to give it to the press. But I don’t know for sure. I have yet to watch it.) But when I defended Ness, I could feel my cheeks burning a little bit. Why? Mr. Game, though, disagreed with my point. He gave me a look.
“Funny you say that. You sound just like my father, how you said that they are not associated with evil desires and the like.” Whoops. Speaking like that gives him those awful memories. Mr. Watch used to think like that when he was hypnotized, and told it to Mr. Game’s face —in front of the entire school —crushing his hopes when he said he wished he never had a son. What was going through his mind?
“Hey, I’m sorry, okay? We just need to find out who’s got the detonator, or at least where it is! Let’s go! We can’t have Ness explode us! Even though I just tried to disprove that theory…” I replied, grabbing Mr. Game by the arm and dragging him down the halls. I would never let Mr. Game die like that. The one time he did, he pushed me off the Death Egg like I explained before, so I couldn’t do anything about it. I didn’t have any time to get back up to the Death Egg, and if I had caught Mr. Game midair, we would’ve both been dead since the force of falling through an unbreakable roof would kill me on the first second of impact. But if the Death Egg exploded? There’s a very, very small chance I live, considering the explosion would probably be equal to getting hit by a car at 88 mph. …Oh wow, did I really forget to introduce myself? I’m so sorry guys! My name’s Amber Tzaziki. You might’ve heard of me, but then again, you might not’ve. After all, you’re way over on Earth, and we’re living on this computer server called Nintendopolis. The famous DeCodeHacker built the server originally in 2000, shortly before he was arrested and jailed in late 2002, but days before his arrest, he had finished a project he had been working on: the first AI being that acted just like a human, to the point of denying its code at times and being able to think and feel for itself. He called it ambertzaziki.bat, and decided to try it since he wouldn’t be able to get a chance had he left it for later. But when he had ran the file, something went wrong. One letter was wrong, reversing a neutron and changing the code drastically. It gave me my immortality patch, and my inability to age after 12 years (I think), but most of all, my superpower. I’m able to look at official artwork for a videogame character and copy their signature abilities, such as Sonic’s speed or Mario’s jumping height. However, this only works in Nintendopolis, and there are setbacks, such as the fact that I can only copy an ability for 30 minutes, and that I can’t use the same power for the rest of the day. I can also only copy a single ability at a time. I had to do everything I could to save Mr. Game from a criminal when he was 12. He was being forced to shut down every means of technology by a lady named Tanya Missouri, and was generally not a good person. She also creeped me out, because Mr. Game’s face showed no emotion whatsoever and Tanya had been watching over him for the last 6 years at that time. I felt she was twisting and manipulating him to the point where it could've seriously hurt him. But this opened me up as well, helping me with my maturity issues and making me see that my association with some of the most evil video game crews was awful. Together, we reversed everything Mr. Game had done, and I managed to drive away the force behind Mr. Game’s fear: Missouri herself. I had to kill her by surrounding myself in an electricity blanket and charging into her. So we moved to Superflat City once we got to Nintendopolis and I gained custody of Mr. Game, but let’s put it this way: It didn’t go well. People bullied Mr. Game for who he was, and I nearly got expelled. Plus, Quartasia has special settings that modify reflex timing to match the natives, and though this didn't affect Mr. Game, there were times I thought my heart was going so fast I was actually gonna die. We relocated once again to Onett after earning the cash for a house from working in a sw—swa—swe—fancy hotel, and had a bunch of misadventures (and adventures) trying to settle in and other things I didn’t think we going to happen. It’s now September 12, 2014, just a week after restoring Mr. Game’s parents and saving them from the hypnotization they had suffered from for 13 years. I think that sums it up, so back onto the main topic! Sorry about that random tangent. I just wanted to let you know who I was. We were just outside the cockpit doors, knocking fiercely for Ness to let us in.
“HEY! NESS! LET US IN!! YOU THERE?!” I screamed.
“Ness! We are worried for you! Answer the door!” called Mr. Game. He then tugged at his bag, trying to detach the camera. There were no windows, so I couldn’t get a view of what was going on…or at least a clear one. I realized how I may have been able to get in on the action. It was really simple, actually!
“Here, I’ll check the security cameras. That might help.” I said. I took off my bag and opened it up, pulling out my monitor and trying to listen in. Yes, it had built-in speakers, too. I got all this stuff from the dump! I mean, we’re well off on financials right now, but I didn’t want to spend too much when I didn’t have to. After all, Ness’s mom has this awesome kit that lets me mess around with technology and refurbish it! It lets me add new features, too. That’s how we got our data plans on our PokeGear for free. “Listen closely, Mr. Game. This might help us find the detonator.” I put my head up to one speaker, Mr. Game the other. There was a bit of noise that sounded like moving boxes, and glass shattering.
“Oh my Arceus! I-I-It’s…it’s…” Ness spoke after a minute of silence. “S-so this is w-who k-k-killed my dad. I-It was E-E-Eggman all this time! I-I should’ve known…” Ness seemed to have been crying hard. And I can understand that completely! I mean, if my parents had died (and I don’t have any, at least not biologically), I’d definitely be looking for answers. And Ness found them. He was also looking for some sort of souvenir to take for us, too, as he mumbled to himself about it. Hearing his next sentence embarrassed me. “I’ll t-take this p-plushie of m-myself for m-me, and I-I’ll take this little plushie for Amber, t-too, and this other p-plushie for Mr. Game. T-They a-a-all look just l-like the r-r-real things.” cried Ness. Ah, yes… I remember making those. It was pretty hard, but being really stupid, I just assumed it’d be super-easy. I taught myself how to sew at about 4. Bowser had left some fabric and a needle lying around on his desk (or was it his?), so I grabbed it and messed around with it. I also remember packing all three of them everywhere I went. Bowser couldn’t make me go on a mission unless I could bring at least one, but then I eventually grew out of it. When I told Dr. Eggman, I could clearly see his relief.
“I feel remorseful for Ness. He has experienced the same pain as I.” said Mr. Game, relating to Ness. I could completely see where he was coming from, and he had it worse. Mr. Game has his parents, but they wanted nothing to do with him until he broke the trance on that fateful day. I haven’t seen Eggman since. “You should go see whether you left the detonator in the weapons forge. We cannot waste more time than we have already.” I started running off down the hallway, but I didn’t get to do that for long.
“I’d agree. It’s awfully kind of Ness to take those––AAAAAAAAAAAAUGH!!” A giant white flash filled the air with immense force. I screamed in horror as I was pushed backwards faster than the Death Egg could travel––and that’s fast. It was definitely faster than a car going at 88 mph. I fell through the air quickly, as if Mr. Game had pushed me from the gate once again. Someone had set off the detonator.
Legally, I am known to the courts as Barry Game and Watch, but everyone else identifies me as Mr. Game, mostly because I correct them the first time one meets me, or they have heard from someone else. Shortly after I was born, Dr. Eggman used a mythical item called the Quartam Sceptre to hypnotize my parents to abandon me. It also made them do some very, very terrible things, but I am not aware of what they did in an entire 13-year period, since I was relocated to Earth when I was 3. Two years later, after living in poverty, homeless and struggling to obtain money of any kind, which was a very harrowing experience, I was taken in by a lady named Tanya Missouri. She was the one who taught me how to manipulate electronics, and sent me to rid the world of working devices. However, I met Amber, who helped me reverse the damage I had done when I changed my mind, and at the end of it all, saved me from further abuse when she killed Tanya by charging into her while enclosing herself in a forcefield of electricity. I am still surprised to this date that she hasn’t been arrested… but then again, her previous job was killing people for Dr. Eggman. We then moved to my hometown, Superflat City, shortly after the incident, but everyone there, they bullied me for my inability to move frame-by-frame, and my 3D qualities. According to the Quartasia government, I was not up to their standards, but it pained me since I had no control over how I was born. Why did they think it was okay to ridicule me for things about me I could not change? There was even a time where I used a diary to vent my emotions. Additionally, Amber suffered major health issues there due to the qualities my kind and their country have. So we travelled once again, this time to Onett, and settled there…and here we are. The blast swept me off my feet, throwing me forcefully into the air and plummeting me down to the ground with high velocity. Someone had to have set off the detonator, but who? Authorities made sure that we were the only ones aboard the Death Egg, hand pistols out and everything. Someone must have snuck on when authorities were on their doughnut break —yes, it is a thing here in Onett— or stolen the detonator when we were not looking… My bad. They would have had to been on the Death Egg. …Perhaps they hacked into the Death Egg to set it off. The detonator did not have its own programming. Instead, it triggered an executable file which would overheat the Death Egg, therefore setting off a spark in the cables, spreading to the outer shell, and combusting. This raced through my mind as I fell. The Death Egg was not supposed to explode while we were still inside. We were supposed to get out, and then press the button from there in the central plaza. Even worse, it was highly improbable that Amber would live through this. Anger tensed throughout my body. Why was it always like this? I have experienced enough hardships as it is! I did not need to lose the one person who truly loved me! I would have nothing but my parents!
“A-A-AAAAAAMBERRRRRRRR! NOOOOOOOOO!!” I shouted. Please, please, let her survive.
“M-MR. GAAAAA-aaame…Ness…” Amber’s eyes fluttered for a moment before closing. Her body went limp. She had fainted while flying through the air. She was not able to deploy her parachute. I started to panic myself. I… I… This cannot be. A-Amber… she is… No! It cannot be! This cannot be the end of Amber Tzaziki! Ness grabbed a cane from the air that had fallen and tried to hook her in. He seemed to think that she would still live, but I had nagging doubts inside my head.
“Easy now…Not the neck, fuzzy pickles…that’ll break it. She’ll die, fuzzy pickles. Get her body now, Ness…” Ness was trying to reassure himself while trying to save Amber’s body. But why would he try? Amber was dead! Why would he want her body? Why did he even… and then I realized: When I died, Amber still had hope. She believed that I was still here, alive, in the middle of a cafeteria tray last week. I did not understand it 5 minutes ago, but now I see it: Ness feels the same way. Amber may not be dead. He had faith in her life. I thought Ness might need a pointer to hook in Amber successfully, so I told him myself.
“Ness! Watch yourself with that cane. Be careful not to get Amber’s left hip. That is where her immortality patch is! Damaging that chip could kill her faster than you could drop the—” We all landed on a giant air mattress in the central plaza, shocking Amber and I and making Ness pass out. This also woke Amber from her passed-out, seemingly dead state. So she had lived! I felt elated to have her back. Ness woke up seconds later, though, asking some strange questions. I started to have second thoughts about the kid’s sanity. How long has he been alone? If I am correct, he has his mother and sister, but they are often working overtime at Escargot Express.
“Fuzzy pickles… Mom, what time is it? …Mrs. Game, when do trees die? …Amber? …Do you… Do you l—Oh! Ugh… I’m pretty tired. Where am I? Fuzzy pickles.” asked Ness after snapping out of his daze. …Never mind. Ness had regained himself, but I did not know that the last sentence before waking up would impact Amber heavily at a later time. Was he already awake at that moment? I even had experience with the situation that would come…
“Dude, are you kidding me?! You’re in Onett! Everyone’s here at the main plaza to see the Eggman-looking ship blow up! Even the president of Quartasia’s here! You should know her, Mr. Game! She’s filming this entire thing! My sixteen seconds of fame!!” stated Kooper. She is a bit of a Deku Nut, I tell you… she always screams at whoever she is talking to. She also exaggerates most times.
“It’s Mrs. Fern Nookia! She’s the president of Eagleland, too!”
“Fern?” Oh, no. I do not like that lady. She moved to Nookville, Lamina about a month ago from some foreign land, becoming the mayor of a then legislature-free town, but she somehow worked her way up the political charts within a week to become the mayor of Superflat City. And president of Quartasia. Now, just recently, specifically the day I managed to rescue my parents from hypnotization, she became president of Eagleland. I do not even know what law allowed her to veto Billy Quartam out of the presidency chair. The answer: Oh. There was none. She seems to me like that other lady in…what is it called now…British Columbia? Amber told me about her. They both seem evil and devious, although I would rather skip school due to the massive amount of bullying I endure.
“Oh, hello there. You must be Barry, right? And you’re Mrs. Tzaziki, correct?” asked Fern, using names that annoyed both of us. I know for a fact that Amber hates being called Mrs. Tzaziki! She can tolerate it when it is a formal situation, and she has told me this herself, but otherwise, it is like when anyone calls me by my first name in any circumstance, which Fern did not seem to know at the time, maybe because she was sitting lazily in a chair at a desk–no, podium–while we were on the NEWS?! I wonder if Fern even knew she was calling us by the names that annoyed us most.
“Shut it, kid! You know we both don’t like being called by–oh, wait–I don’t think you do. You’re just a measly little mayor who doesn’t even live in our town.” argued Amber, using a menacing tone that she only used when I landed myself in hot water, such as when she told me about how Emily tried to kill her, and how I had to give her up on the spot. I needed to calm Amber down, however, so I did that whilst addressing Fern as well.
“Stop it, Amber.” I turned about 45 degrees, now facing Fern. “I am Mr. Game to you, Miss, and right now we are occupied with finding who just tried to kill us. And please: This girl is Amber, and Amber only.” I said, turning to Fern.
“Okay then. Geez, you don’t have to be so rude about it… Do you really think I care?”sighed Fern. Hold on: Did she just say, Do you think I really care? I cannot say I was hearing things.
“DO YOU THINK I REALLY CARE?! FUZZY PICKLES! SOMEONE JUST TRIED TO FREAKIN’ KILL US! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT THIS IS NO BIG DEAL?!” Ness screamed, his face going red. I only saw him like this once, and that was when I pushed Amber out of the Death Egg. It was rare that either one of them would get so defensive. …No. I cannot say that. Amber stands up for me every moment she can. “NOBODY’S EVER TRIED TO KILL YOU BEFORE, HAVE THEY? SUCK IT UP AND HELP THE INVESTIGATIONS, OR AT LEAST MAKE SOME BIASED SPEECH ABOUT HOW YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHY ANYONE WOULD DO THIS!! YOU’RE THE FREAKING MAYOR, FUZZY PICKLES!!” Ness was losing it. We had to be careful not to say anything that would set Fern off. But we already had. We were too late.
“Excuse me? That’s no way to speak to the mayor, now is it? Get your butts away from this place right now or I’ll arrest you all! I don’t care if you’re the Interspectaculars or any of that stuff!!” snapped Fern. Being a public figure of authority, she possesses the right to call upon the law officials when she feels the need. This makes her quite the force, considering she can arrest anyone at any time. I tried to step up to the plate and apologize for what we had done, for Amber and Ness were both inching away from the scene.
“Um, yes ma’am. W-We will be on our w-way, F-Fern. I-I apologize f-for any inconvenience we may have caused.” I apologized for the entire group, since Ness and Amber wouldn’t be able to bring themselves to. ...No, I think it would be more like Amber refusing to apologize and Ness being too frightened to. I was so nervous I was stuttering! As we walked along the gravel path, away from the scene of the… crime (I do not know how to put it), Fern shouted to us from about seventeen feet away.
“YEAH WELL YOU BETTER BE SORRY!! YOU’RE LUCKY I DIDN’T JUST HAUL YOUR BUTTS OFF TO JAIL, YOU HEAR ME? DO IT AGAIN AND THAT’LL BE THE CASE!!” shouted Fern at the top of her lungs. Geez, I guess she gets very, very angry at times. She lands herself on the news every now and then for her sudden outbursts of rage. I have seen footage before, and Amber reacts well every time. She gets up out of her seat shouting, “Ha! HA! See?! You deserved that, Fern! Now gimme my pay for this month!!”
“Arceus, what set her off? …Never mind. Mr. Game, let’s stop at Ness’s house for a bit. We need to get our minds off Fern and back onto the blown-up Death Egg… You know, maybe Fern set it off.” said Amber.
“It’s very well possible, fuzzy pickles. She could’ve done it. After all, she has a better chance of getting away with it because she’s the mayor of Nookville —AND Superflat City —AND PRESIDENT of Quartasia —not to mention the PRESIDENT of Eagleland. She can hide behind presidency! Fuzzy pickles, even if it was her, she won’t get busted for it!” replied Ness.
“Good point, Amber. However, once a parliament member is found out, the press never lets them forget it…Ness, how will we find who the “bomber” is? We do not possess any professional tools, and you know how bad the authorities are for investigations. They never do their job to the full 100% they can, and they never find the key evidence.” I asked, stating that our police officers and EBI —Eagleland Bureau of Investigations —were lackluster. I knew from experience. I had seen prior investigations, and I feared there would be one involving myself in the near future. However, without knowing it, there would be, if not an unofficial, brief one. It seems that Amber and Ness did not know this, which was not necessarily surprising, considering the both of them are not exactly honour roll students. Besides, I could not ever tell them about what happened that Tuesday three weeks ago concerning Emily and I.
“…Mr. Game? How do you know this? We’ve never had a run-in with them before. …Have you, fuzzy pickles?”asked Ness. He raised his eyebrows and tried to make a face that seemed suspicious, but he failed miserably, nearly driving me to burst out in laughter.
“N-No! I have seen o-other investigations before. Now l-let’s get back to the D-Death E-E-Egg, now shall w-we?” I replied. Oh no. The stuttering would blow my cover. If I would be absolutely doomed at one moment in my life, this would be it.
“Mr. Game, you sure about that? …Come on, let’s go, guys." Amber pulled out her 2009 PokéGear and checked the time briefly before placing it back into her pocket.
"At this point, Ness, we can’t stay, but let’s work on this tomorrow at school.” said Amber.
“Okay, bye! Fuzzy pickles, we’ll meet in the library at lunch tomorrow. Nobody goes there!” responded Ness. Hmmm. Looks like I was not doomed. But in Onett, everything will come back to bite you in some way or another… We now were on the sidewalk, seconds away from home. Amber and I were both exhausted, having both nearly died in an explosion, and having just been yelled at by the president of Eagleland, most likely humiliated while we were at it. There were live camera crews, if I am not mistaken. Kooper Kamokawa said so herself.
“Ugh…Amber, I am going to get to sleep here…that took a lot longer than I thought. Besides, we did not need to be yelled at by Fern…” I sighed, yawning. The sleepy vibe did not last for long, however. We entered the door, and Amber went to enter her room, but screamed seconds later.
“Oh my Arceus!! Mr. Game, get over here! Somebody broke into our house!!”
“A-A-AAAAAAMBERRRRRRRR! NOOOOOOOOO!!” I shouted. Please, please, let her survive.
“M-MR. GAAAAA-aaame…Ness…” Amber’s eyes fluttered for a moment before closing. Her body went limp. She had fainted while flying through the air. She was not able to deploy her parachute. I started to panic myself. I… I… This cannot be. A-Amber… she is… No! It cannot be! This cannot be the end of Amber Tzaziki! Ness grabbed a cane from the air that had fallen and tried to hook her in. He seemed to think that she would still live, but I had nagging doubts inside my head.
“Easy now…Not the neck, fuzzy pickles…that’ll break it. She’ll die, fuzzy pickles. Get her body now, Ness…” Ness was trying to reassure himself while trying to save Amber’s body. But why would he try? Amber was dead! Why would he want her body? Why did he even… and then I realized: When I died, Amber still had hope. She believed that I was still here, alive, in the middle of a cafeteria tray last week. I did not understand it 5 minutes ago, but now I see it: Ness feels the same way. Amber may not be dead. He had faith in her life. I thought Ness might need a pointer to hook in Amber successfully, so I told him myself.
“Ness! Watch yourself with that cane. Be careful not to get Amber’s left hip. That is where her immortality patch is! Damaging that chip could kill her faster than you could drop the—” We all landed on a giant air mattress in the central plaza, shocking Amber and I and making Ness pass out. This also woke Amber from her passed-out, seemingly dead state. So she had lived! I felt elated to have her back. Ness woke up seconds later, though, asking some strange questions. I started to have second thoughts about the kid’s sanity. How long has he been alone? If I am correct, he has his mother and sister, but they are often working overtime at Escargot Express.
“Fuzzy pickles… Mom, what time is it? …Mrs. Game, when do trees die? …Amber? …Do you… Do you l—Oh! Ugh… I’m pretty tired. Where am I? Fuzzy pickles.” asked Ness after snapping out of his daze. …Never mind. Ness had regained himself, but I did not know that the last sentence before waking up would impact Amber heavily at a later time. Was he already awake at that moment? I even had experience with the situation that would come…
“Dude, are you kidding me?! You’re in Onett! Everyone’s here at the main plaza to see the Eggman-looking ship blow up! Even the president of Quartasia’s here! You should know her, Mr. Game! She’s filming this entire thing! My sixteen seconds of fame!!” stated Kooper. She is a bit of a Deku Nut, I tell you… she always screams at whoever she is talking to. She also exaggerates most times.
“It’s Mrs. Fern Nookia! She’s the president of Eagleland, too!”
“Fern?” Oh, no. I do not like that lady. She moved to Nookville, Lamina about a month ago from some foreign land, becoming the mayor of a then legislature-free town, but she somehow worked her way up the political charts within a week to become the mayor of Superflat City. And president of Quartasia. Now, just recently, specifically the day I managed to rescue my parents from hypnotization, she became president of Eagleland. I do not even know what law allowed her to veto Billy Quartam out of the presidency chair. The answer: Oh. There was none. She seems to me like that other lady in…what is it called now…British Columbia? Amber told me about her. They both seem evil and devious, although I would rather skip school due to the massive amount of bullying I endure.
“Oh, hello there. You must be Barry, right? And you’re Mrs. Tzaziki, correct?” asked Fern, using names that annoyed both of us. I know for a fact that Amber hates being called Mrs. Tzaziki! She can tolerate it when it is a formal situation, and she has told me this herself, but otherwise, it is like when anyone calls me by my first name in any circumstance, which Fern did not seem to know at the time, maybe because she was sitting lazily in a chair at a desk–no, podium–while we were on the NEWS?! I wonder if Fern even knew she was calling us by the names that annoyed us most.
“Shut it, kid! You know we both don’t like being called by–oh, wait–I don’t think you do. You’re just a measly little mayor who doesn’t even live in our town.” argued Amber, using a menacing tone that she only used when I landed myself in hot water, such as when she told me about how Emily tried to kill her, and how I had to give her up on the spot. I needed to calm Amber down, however, so I did that whilst addressing Fern as well.
“Stop it, Amber.” I turned about 45 degrees, now facing Fern. “I am Mr. Game to you, Miss, and right now we are occupied with finding who just tried to kill us. And please: This girl is Amber, and Amber only.” I said, turning to Fern.
“Okay then. Geez, you don’t have to be so rude about it… Do you really think I care?”sighed Fern. Hold on: Did she just say, Do you think I really care? I cannot say I was hearing things.
“DO YOU THINK I REALLY CARE?! FUZZY PICKLES! SOMEONE JUST TRIED TO FREAKIN’ KILL US! WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT THIS IS NO BIG DEAL?!” Ness screamed, his face going red. I only saw him like this once, and that was when I pushed Amber out of the Death Egg. It was rare that either one of them would get so defensive. …No. I cannot say that. Amber stands up for me every moment she can. “NOBODY’S EVER TRIED TO KILL YOU BEFORE, HAVE THEY? SUCK IT UP AND HELP THE INVESTIGATIONS, OR AT LEAST MAKE SOME BIASED SPEECH ABOUT HOW YOU HAVE NO IDEA WHY ANYONE WOULD DO THIS!! YOU’RE THE FREAKING MAYOR, FUZZY PICKLES!!” Ness was losing it. We had to be careful not to say anything that would set Fern off. But we already had. We were too late.
“Excuse me? That’s no way to speak to the mayor, now is it? Get your butts away from this place right now or I’ll arrest you all! I don’t care if you’re the Interspectaculars or any of that stuff!!” snapped Fern. Being a public figure of authority, she possesses the right to call upon the law officials when she feels the need. This makes her quite the force, considering she can arrest anyone at any time. I tried to step up to the plate and apologize for what we had done, for Amber and Ness were both inching away from the scene.
“Um, yes ma’am. W-We will be on our w-way, F-Fern. I-I apologize f-for any inconvenience we may have caused.” I apologized for the entire group, since Ness and Amber wouldn’t be able to bring themselves to. ...No, I think it would be more like Amber refusing to apologize and Ness being too frightened to. I was so nervous I was stuttering! As we walked along the gravel path, away from the scene of the… crime (I do not know how to put it), Fern shouted to us from about seventeen feet away.
“YEAH WELL YOU BETTER BE SORRY!! YOU’RE LUCKY I DIDN’T JUST HAUL YOUR BUTTS OFF TO JAIL, YOU HEAR ME? DO IT AGAIN AND THAT’LL BE THE CASE!!” shouted Fern at the top of her lungs. Geez, I guess she gets very, very angry at times. She lands herself on the news every now and then for her sudden outbursts of rage. I have seen footage before, and Amber reacts well every time. She gets up out of her seat shouting, “Ha! HA! See?! You deserved that, Fern! Now gimme my pay for this month!!”
“Arceus, what set her off? …Never mind. Mr. Game, let’s stop at Ness’s house for a bit. We need to get our minds off Fern and back onto the blown-up Death Egg… You know, maybe Fern set it off.” said Amber.
“It’s very well possible, fuzzy pickles. She could’ve done it. After all, she has a better chance of getting away with it because she’s the mayor of Nookville —AND Superflat City —AND PRESIDENT of Quartasia —not to mention the PRESIDENT of Eagleland. She can hide behind presidency! Fuzzy pickles, even if it was her, she won’t get busted for it!” replied Ness.
“Good point, Amber. However, once a parliament member is found out, the press never lets them forget it…Ness, how will we find who the “bomber” is? We do not possess any professional tools, and you know how bad the authorities are for investigations. They never do their job to the full 100% they can, and they never find the key evidence.” I asked, stating that our police officers and EBI —Eagleland Bureau of Investigations —were lackluster. I knew from experience. I had seen prior investigations, and I feared there would be one involving myself in the near future. However, without knowing it, there would be, if not an unofficial, brief one. It seems that Amber and Ness did not know this, which was not necessarily surprising, considering the both of them are not exactly honour roll students. Besides, I could not ever tell them about what happened that Tuesday three weeks ago concerning Emily and I.
“…Mr. Game? How do you know this? We’ve never had a run-in with them before. …Have you, fuzzy pickles?”asked Ness. He raised his eyebrows and tried to make a face that seemed suspicious, but he failed miserably, nearly driving me to burst out in laughter.
“N-No! I have seen o-other investigations before. Now l-let’s get back to the D-Death E-E-Egg, now shall w-we?” I replied. Oh no. The stuttering would blow my cover. If I would be absolutely doomed at one moment in my life, this would be it.
“Mr. Game, you sure about that? …Come on, let’s go, guys." Amber pulled out her 2009 PokéGear and checked the time briefly before placing it back into her pocket.
"At this point, Ness, we can’t stay, but let’s work on this tomorrow at school.” said Amber.
“Okay, bye! Fuzzy pickles, we’ll meet in the library at lunch tomorrow. Nobody goes there!” responded Ness. Hmmm. Looks like I was not doomed. But in Onett, everything will come back to bite you in some way or another… We now were on the sidewalk, seconds away from home. Amber and I were both exhausted, having both nearly died in an explosion, and having just been yelled at by the president of Eagleland, most likely humiliated while we were at it. There were live camera crews, if I am not mistaken. Kooper Kamokawa said so herself.
“Ugh…Amber, I am going to get to sleep here…that took a lot longer than I thought. Besides, we did not need to be yelled at by Fern…” I sighed, yawning. The sleepy vibe did not last for long, however. We entered the door, and Amber went to enter her room, but screamed seconds later.
“Oh my Arceus!! Mr. Game, get over here! Somebody broke into our house!!”
“Amber, what happened? I could have sworn I locked the door when we left!” cried Mr. Game.
“I could’ve sworn, too! But I didn’t!” I shouted back.
“...But you always lock the door, Amber! What do you mean?” asked Mr. Game, puzzled.
“Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not what I meant! I locked the door! See, I even filmed myself doing it! You know what I meant! I was going to— Mr. Game, look here. It wasn’t the door. They got in... through... through my bedroom window. Where I keep all the medical, finance, and permanent records. Oh Arceus, this is bad...” I winced, after yelling to Mr. Game about how I actually locked the door. In my extremely messy room, the only room in the house that had no wallpaper and was instead painted a sickly yellow-green colour, the window closest to my bed had been shattered, the lining around the glass destroyed. (And of course, 390 Pokos gets you nowhere in Onett except for daily necessities, so I’ll just have to sit hopelessly as our already run-down house crumbles to the ground. I’ll put saran wrap over the window and hope no one else decides to break in.) Laundry I keep meaning to do for weeks on end was scattered carelessly across the floor as usual, but the dresser looked like it’d been violently knocked over, letting everything inside spill over. This was awful! I mean, first, we nearly blew up trying to do the city a favour, then, we get yelled at by the president of Eagleland for no reason, and now... Okay, I probably wasn’t innocent in the entire Fern thing. I provoked her. That was my bad. But now, our house has been broken into?! Why would anyone want anything in our house, anyway? We’ve got nothing good, or new, anyway. We’ve always had a struggle with money, which are Pokos here, mainly because I can’t find a job that’ll pay me, and Mr. Game can’t work because of school. Plus, I have school, so... Well, we do have a bit of money right now, —390 Pokos, to be exact —but I’m keeping it all conservative so we—actually, I—don’t spend it all. Anyway, let’s ignore all that for—
“Uh... Amber? Whoever broke in left a Post-It note for us to see...” said Mr. Game, his voice wavering with uncertainty. I just love that 5-year old male Peach voice of his! ...Um... that sounds really weird. Sorry. ...Let’s try that again. *ahem* It sounds like a 5-year old boy trying to imitate Princess Peach, but it sounds almost like that boy lost his voice, too. That’s not my point, though: The point is that someone just broke into our house, and now they left some note for us to see! Classic mystery movie, commence.
“Oh Arceus, did they actually?! I better check it out! Have you read it yet?” I replied, running out of my room and into the kitchen, where Mr. Game was holding the note with a look of imminent fear. I snatched the note from his hands, reading it out loud and becoming frightened myself. Here’s what it read:
Today, you almost died. I'll make sure it happens again.
“Today, you nearly died... I’ll make sure it happens again. Whoever left this also tried to kill us! This guy —!”
“Or girl,” interrupted Mr. Game.
“Whatever. This guy’s the one behind it all!” I exclaimed, but not in that happy way.
"We do not know that."
“Or maybe whoever sent this just hates us.”
“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock Holmes. Are you some sort of long-lost relative?” said Mr. Game sarcastically, rolling his eyes at me. “You are just like him, with every bit of his intelligence.”
“Shut up! Let’s get some sleep.” I snapped back at him. I hate when he teases me like this... I GET that I’m not some grade-A student, got it?! I can’t be awesome at everything! I’m sure you learned one way or another!
“Sure.” replied Mr. Game. “I’m exhausted, in the meanwhile.” We headed through the hall to our rooms and got ready for bed. The nervous feeling through me wouldn’t go away, though...
Monday, September 13, 2014
6:45 am
“...Ugh. .....wait, I’m waking up on my own? That’s a first...” I mumbled, forcing myself out of bed. I’m not an early bird. I’ll tell you that, for sure. I like to stay up until about 2:00 am, and that’s not normally doing financials, or crap the government wants me to do, or domestic things like laundry, or documents of any kind. I use that time to be... me. I miss being a kid. I didn’t stay up yesterday, though. I was gonna drop dead if I stayed up any longer. Looking at the clock... it’s only 6:45am? Normally, I wake up at 8, and that’s when Mr. Game wakes me! But then again, I could do something about that, too, like going to bed at a normal time. I opened the door to my room and walked to the kitchen, where Mr. Game was sitting at the table, lamenting about something. Seeing as he was troubled, I sat down across from him, and opened my mouth to talk when somebody knocked on the door. I had to answer it; why not? I’d be rude if I didn’t.
“Mr. Game, I’ll be right back. I just wanna see who this is, okay?” I said. Mr. Game nodded his head. “I’ll even let them in if it’s Emily.” I walked a few steps to the front door (small house advantages), and opened the door to see that it was Ness.
“Amber! Mr. Game! ...geez, you just get up or somethin’?” Ness muttered to himself. Yeah. I’m in my jammies. (Thank Arceus I wore pants last night...) I also hadn’t brushed my hair, teeth, or anything yet, so I just hoped Ness didn’t mind.
“Uh, yeah! Why, is that a problem? You look like you just got up, too! I mean, look at you!” I replied back, using his comment against him. Ness did look like he had serious bedhead, after all. There wasn’t anything the cap was going to do about it. He sighed and bent his head down. Part of me felt embarrassed that I hadn’t readied myself for school yet, but normally, I’m pretty carefree about it. Maybe it was the fact that a boy had come to my house that wasn’t a bully or the landlord, or someone who was asking for money, like Mr. Game was once forced to.
“Okay, fine... you got me there. Anyway, last night, fuzzy pickles, when I got home, I found this sticky note on my fridge! Did you get something like that?” asked Ness, seemingly panicked as the note came to mind. Oh, no...
“Yeah we did! The one left for us said, Today, you almost died. I’ll make sure it happens again. And when we found that, someone had broken into our house but didn’t take anything! ...well, except for the window. They de—day—deh—”
“Demolished?” Ness suggested.
“Yeah, that word. They demolished the window. But everything else... I found that really weird! But then again, we’re poor people in this house.” I replied. Ness’s life was being held at stake too?! I just couldn’t let that happen! After all, we’re best friends! But I’m still confused on why someone would break in and not even take anything. You got in, so what was the point of it all if you don’t take anything? ...Not that I wanted anyone to steal from us! I already put up with enough BS in a day!
“Oh my Arceus! That’s what happened to me, too! This isn’t good, fuzzy pickles.” cried Ness. Oh... Arceus is the god of all Pokémon. Generally, as I learned the hard way when I first moved to Nintendopolis, saying, “Oh my God” is considered some sort of crime. Billy Quartam just stared at me weird and corrected me politely, but once Fern was in that chair, she put me on probation for two weeks. That was when I started hating her, but I listened anyway. That’s why everyone here says, Oh my Arceus! But anyway...
“What did your note say?” I asked, reaching for Ness’s pockets. He slapped them away, putting his own hands in his pockets and pulling out a crumpled Post-It note. He obviously didn’t take much good care of it.
“It said this. Read it for yourself, and you’ll see.” answered Ness, handing me the note. In my hands, I read the sticky note, and found that it was very similar to the one I got, albeit the lead being smudged a little bit:
Today, you almost died. But I failed. You have three days to live.
“Oh, great. Here goes Skull Kid all over again.” said Mr. Game, having come up from behind me and reading over my shoulder. “After all, he did give Link three days to save Termina before everyone died thanks to the moon.”
“Skull Kid? Don’t you mean —Skull Kid! He could very well be the one! He could be the perpetrator!” I exclaimed, starting to get ahead of myself. I don’t even remember what I just said, but it must’ve been a red light in both Mr. Game and Ness, because they both turned to me with confused faces. Thankfully, though, it wasn’t too, too bad. Nothing like I expected, anyway.
“Since when did you start using such fancy language?” asked Ness and Mr. Game at the same time. So that was my offence? Okay then...
“What did I say?” I asked, legitimately.
“You used the word perpetrator. Now, fuzzy pickles, when did you start using such fancy language?” replied Ness. The colors of his baseball cap stood out to me. The red base contrasted so well with the blue rim! ...Huh? Sorry! Um, I’m easily distracted.
“Oh! Uh... I dunno. That’s the term for the guy who actually did the crime —or in our case, tried, anyway.” I replied. Mr. Game already knew, though. He was the one who told me about that word, anyway. It took me a day to be able to pronounce it.
“Like I did not know?” asked Mr. Game, with a sarcastic, almost snotty tone in his voice. I was about to scold him, but Ness piped up right then.
“So, uh, looks like we’re dealing with the perpetrator here. And whoever the perpetrator is, fuzzy pickles...” said Ness, his sentence finished by Mr. Game.
“...wants to finish his or her mission in three days. It looks like we are on a time limit to figure this out.” Ness glanced at his PokéGear screen briefly.
“...Hey guys, it’s just about time to get to school! After they fired Eggman, or demoted him as far as I’m aware, they’re not scrapping the whole Interspectacular system, but they are changing homerooms. The new principal made sure that happened. We should go see our new classes!” stated Ness. ...You know, now that he brought it up, I should explain the system the Eagleland school board uses at the Academy of the Interspectacular and the Dark, or just the Academy for most people. You see, when Rosalina and King K. Rool originally built the school, they had planned out this whole program that was to teach people how to be a proper video game hero, with some of the most famous as the teachers. Something happened, however. Dr. Ivo Robotnik, aka Dr. Eggman, staged a hostile takeover. He evicted the two and became the self-proclaimed principal, although Rosalina was later able to get a position in astronomy, an optional class that no one takes. (That must hurt.) He also changed the program, making it school-wide but also adding a villain side to it. Every year, you would be assigned to be either an Interspectacular or a Dark. Classes would be taught differently, and you’d have different teachers. When you entered your first class of the year, a machine would stick a star on you, defining which group you were in. I remember destroying that thing in the Math 8 room a month ago, and I don’t exactly remember why. I did rage at it, though, and I remember yelling something about suing Eggman for those things. The two groups are very hostile to each other, and here’s a pointer: NEVER enter the wrong class. Mr. Game learned that one the hard way. He ended up getting beat up, and the surgery to save his life made me broke. I’d prefer not to tell you how that went, but if the time comes I’ll explain. I’d also like not to point out why I had to get him surgery if I have a version of Kirby’s Copy Ability.
“Amber...? Amber! Come on! We are leaving now with Ness! Get your backpack!” scolded Mr. Game, snapping his fingers at me.
“Okay, okay! I got it! Just gimme a minute to get ready!” I replied, picking up my bag from the kitchen (which serves as another living room for us), and dragging Mr. Game to the bathroom.
“Fuzzy pickles! Can I borrow a brush or something?” called Ness from the doorway. After I did my hair and brushed my teeth and all that, and Mr. Game brushed his teeth, I found us heading out the door to catch up with Ness. And no, I didn’t forget the brush.
“So, um... Y-You got any suspects in mind?” I asked, handing Ness the hairbrush. Why did I stutter? It’s not like I was nervous! ...or was I? I was confused, but I tried to push it behind me as Ness fired off ideas. I guess I was just embarrassed about letting a boy borrow a girl’s hairbrush.
“Well, I-I’ve got a few. Fuzzy pickles. T-There’s Fern, because of her p-presidency and those times when she snaps. Then there’s Skull Kid, because of the fact that we’ve got three days to settle this, fuzzy pickles. I-I mean, he d-d-did try to kill everyone in Termina. Finally, Eggman himself, fuzzy pickles. After all, this is his Death Egg. Maybe h-he didn’t want anyone to destroy it but him. Maybe he’s still angry about Mr. Game and the Quartam Sceptre.” suggested Ness, brushing his hair slowly and looking out occasionally to see whether anyone was looking or not. He stuttered too? He didn’t seem nervous before we left! ...Maybe he was scared about the stalker. ...Well, I can’t call them that right now, but who cares? I’ll just use that story for now. There was a suspect he missed, however, that I felt should be on the list.
“I’m gonna add to that. I think Emily’s responsible for this because—” Mr. Game cut me off. He gets very defensive about Emily, probably because she was his girlfriend that I DIDN’T APPROVE OF!! ...Sorry.
“That is not her writing.” Mr. Game refused to show me any evidence, but I’ve seen Emily’s works before—an art project from the year before, Grade 7— so I know what she writes like. Her stuff is very different from this.
“No, you’re right. It’s not.” I argued. “So if it is not her writing, then why would Emily hire someone to send us death threats? I know her better than any of you, and she would never do that.” protested Mr. Game. Okay, let’s make one thing clear: I hate Emily Quartam. She used to be Mr. Game’s girlfriend, but then she tried to kill me, and I can’t be killed. ...Okay, not entirely true. Had she gotten my skirt, I would’ve been a dead woman. The only thing she set on fire was my tank top, which I have multiple of (don’t ask why). I’m still surprised my skin didn’t set on fire, or even my hair! I had it in a bun that day. She wanted nothing more than to have my Mr. Game all to herself. And was I gonna let that happen? Noooooooo. So after that, I gave her the boot and made Mr. Game turn her in. It was emotional for him, but he managed to do it, mainly because I made him. That’s why I got really mad when Mr. Game tried to defend her. So anyway, if Mr. Game knew Emily didn’t do it (and I believe him on it, because he lived with her for a week when he thought I betrayed him--not usually something I’d let him do, but at the time Mr. Game wanted nothing to do with me)... then who did? We were now mere footsteps away from the school doors. It’s a beautiful glass building, with opalescent supports to keep it upright, and it’s even multi-floored! I’m pretty sure that the other floors are for board meetings, and any other way to not use the library, though. Nobody uses that dump anymore. The school was founded about 5 years ago, and it’s pretty popular! Of course, that’s because it’s the only high school in town due to the outrageous way Onett uses its budget, but anyway...
“Amber, we are here. We should inspect the billboards immediately to find our new homerooms.” said Mr. Game.
“But whatever you do, DON’T tell ANYONE about what’s happening here! We might end up telling the stalker! Fuzzy pickles! Then they’ll move up the deadline! Who knows, maybe they’re right beside us!” Ness added in a whisper, quick to get his words out. I understood his urgency. If the stalker found out that we knew (Wait, that’s stupid; they’d go under the assumption that we knew, because they broke into our houses, anyway), then they might move up the deadline! I don’t wanna die so early! After all, it’s not like I can revive myself! Wait, how does that all make sense? I dunno. We walked into the main foyer, to the billboards, which had been moved to the lobby for quick access to most. Mr. Game, Ness, and I scanned the homeroom lists, looking for our names, and seeing the new-and improved staff list.
“Hey, l-looks like Eggman isn’t the Dark robotics and tech-ed teacher anymore.” stated Ness. He was obviously looking for a reaction from me, as he looked me in the eyes when he said it... and that’s what he got, although a minor one. When Ness gave me eye contact, I could feel my cheeks burning. But I just didn’t understand! It’s been this way since Ness saved me from dying! I’ve never been interested in the whole relationship thing! ...And no, no thank you! I hate Pringles, too!
“Really? I’m so surprised Eggman doesn’t teach anymore!” I rolled my eyes sarcastically. “Who took his place?”
“Uh, l-let’s see here... well, w-w-we’ve got Metal Sonic now for that. I want to see how well that went over with the r-real Sonic! Fuzzy pickles!” Ness laughed nervously. I... I don’t... Why are we always nervous around each other? And why does Ness say fuzzy pickles so much? It kinda feels like things have changed between the two of us since Ness saved me two weeks ago. Mr. Game would probably ask sooner or later, which I desperately hoped would never happen... for some reason. And speaking of, Mr. Game then jumped in place, and turned to us excitedly.
“Hold on there! We have a new principal and vice-principal!” cried Mr. Game.
“Really? That one’s obvious, too.” I replied.
“Yes, but here is the good news: Mrs. Fit is now the vice-principal! Which means...” cheered Mr. Game, leaving Ness and I to solve the puzzle. I got a bad feeling about this.
“Your dad got fired, fuzzy pickles!” exclaimed Ness, obviously joking. I panicked slightly, because the way Ness said that, and what he said would both probably make Mr. Game cry now. His parents have always been a touchy subject to talk about. Mr. Watch is Mr. Game’s biological dad. Because of a trance he and his wife, Mrs. Game, were in thanks to Dr. Eggman and his control of the Quartam Sceptre, they did some really questionable things, including abandoning Mr. Game shortly after he was born. When Mr. Game met them for the first time in his life (that’s really sad, because it was about a month ago), Mr. Watch was in favour of the Interspectaculars, and reconsidered his LOVE for Mr. Game, because in our first class groupings, he was a Dark. Of course, unless someone really had a messed up belief, nobody in their right mind would EVER do something like that! His mom, on the other hand, freaked out when she saw him, but that was because she would have to sell most of her belongings to take care of Mr. Game. Basically speaking, she was self-centered and selfish to the point where she didn't even want anybody else to be her responsibility in her life! At that point, I knew something was up. You don’t just randomly decide to hate your own kid one day! That was when I figured they were in a trance. We managed to break that trance, though, and we still have yet to go to court about custody. For now, though, I’m still Mr. Game’s guardian, so he lives with me. (And I really, really hope the Game and Watches did enough evil things for me to keep their son. I can’t imagine what life would be like alone anymore.)
“N-no. Why would you think that? Father got a promotion.” replied Mr. Game, close to tears. I knew it!
“Awesome! Congrats, Mr. Game!” I cried. Mr. Game then grabbed the homeroom sheet from me, scanning the sheet and looking for names.
“...There is no Kooper Kamokawa on this, nor is there a Trooper Kamokawa. They must have received different homerooms. ...Look, there Trooper is in Room 136. My old homeroom,” said Mr. Game. The bell for our first class rang at that point. We all had the same classes, but I had a feeling that come lunch, one of us won’t come to the meeting.
But that feeling told me whoever it was going to be would make me rethink everything I thought I knew— and it told me terrible, terrible things would come from it.
“I could’ve sworn, too! But I didn’t!” I shouted back.
“...But you always lock the door, Amber! What do you mean?” asked Mr. Game, puzzled.
“Whatever you’re thinking, that’s not what I meant! I locked the door! See, I even filmed myself doing it! You know what I meant! I was going to— Mr. Game, look here. It wasn’t the door. They got in... through... through my bedroom window. Where I keep all the medical, finance, and permanent records. Oh Arceus, this is bad...” I winced, after yelling to Mr. Game about how I actually locked the door. In my extremely messy room, the only room in the house that had no wallpaper and was instead painted a sickly yellow-green colour, the window closest to my bed had been shattered, the lining around the glass destroyed. (And of course, 390 Pokos gets you nowhere in Onett except for daily necessities, so I’ll just have to sit hopelessly as our already run-down house crumbles to the ground. I’ll put saran wrap over the window and hope no one else decides to break in.) Laundry I keep meaning to do for weeks on end was scattered carelessly across the floor as usual, but the dresser looked like it’d been violently knocked over, letting everything inside spill over. This was awful! I mean, first, we nearly blew up trying to do the city a favour, then, we get yelled at by the president of Eagleland for no reason, and now... Okay, I probably wasn’t innocent in the entire Fern thing. I provoked her. That was my bad. But now, our house has been broken into?! Why would anyone want anything in our house, anyway? We’ve got nothing good, or new, anyway. We’ve always had a struggle with money, which are Pokos here, mainly because I can’t find a job that’ll pay me, and Mr. Game can’t work because of school. Plus, I have school, so... Well, we do have a bit of money right now, —390 Pokos, to be exact —but I’m keeping it all conservative so we—actually, I—don’t spend it all. Anyway, let’s ignore all that for—
“Uh... Amber? Whoever broke in left a Post-It note for us to see...” said Mr. Game, his voice wavering with uncertainty. I just love that 5-year old male Peach voice of his! ...Um... that sounds really weird. Sorry. ...Let’s try that again. *ahem* It sounds like a 5-year old boy trying to imitate Princess Peach, but it sounds almost like that boy lost his voice, too. That’s not my point, though: The point is that someone just broke into our house, and now they left some note for us to see! Classic mystery movie, commence.
“Oh Arceus, did they actually?! I better check it out! Have you read it yet?” I replied, running out of my room and into the kitchen, where Mr. Game was holding the note with a look of imminent fear. I snatched the note from his hands, reading it out loud and becoming frightened myself. Here’s what it read:
Today, you almost died. I'll make sure it happens again.
“Today, you nearly died... I’ll make sure it happens again. Whoever left this also tried to kill us! This guy —!”
“Or girl,” interrupted Mr. Game.
“Whatever. This guy’s the one behind it all!” I exclaimed, but not in that happy way.
"We do not know that."
“Or maybe whoever sent this just hates us.”
“Brilliant deduction, Sherlock Holmes. Are you some sort of long-lost relative?” said Mr. Game sarcastically, rolling his eyes at me. “You are just like him, with every bit of his intelligence.”
“Shut up! Let’s get some sleep.” I snapped back at him. I hate when he teases me like this... I GET that I’m not some grade-A student, got it?! I can’t be awesome at everything! I’m sure you learned one way or another!
“Sure.” replied Mr. Game. “I’m exhausted, in the meanwhile.” We headed through the hall to our rooms and got ready for bed. The nervous feeling through me wouldn’t go away, though...
Monday, September 13, 2014
6:45 am
“...Ugh. .....wait, I’m waking up on my own? That’s a first...” I mumbled, forcing myself out of bed. I’m not an early bird. I’ll tell you that, for sure. I like to stay up until about 2:00 am, and that’s not normally doing financials, or crap the government wants me to do, or domestic things like laundry, or documents of any kind. I use that time to be... me. I miss being a kid. I didn’t stay up yesterday, though. I was gonna drop dead if I stayed up any longer. Looking at the clock... it’s only 6:45am? Normally, I wake up at 8, and that’s when Mr. Game wakes me! But then again, I could do something about that, too, like going to bed at a normal time. I opened the door to my room and walked to the kitchen, where Mr. Game was sitting at the table, lamenting about something. Seeing as he was troubled, I sat down across from him, and opened my mouth to talk when somebody knocked on the door. I had to answer it; why not? I’d be rude if I didn’t.
“Mr. Game, I’ll be right back. I just wanna see who this is, okay?” I said. Mr. Game nodded his head. “I’ll even let them in if it’s Emily.” I walked a few steps to the front door (small house advantages), and opened the door to see that it was Ness.
“Amber! Mr. Game! ...geez, you just get up or somethin’?” Ness muttered to himself. Yeah. I’m in my jammies. (Thank Arceus I wore pants last night...) I also hadn’t brushed my hair, teeth, or anything yet, so I just hoped Ness didn’t mind.
“Uh, yeah! Why, is that a problem? You look like you just got up, too! I mean, look at you!” I replied back, using his comment against him. Ness did look like he had serious bedhead, after all. There wasn’t anything the cap was going to do about it. He sighed and bent his head down. Part of me felt embarrassed that I hadn’t readied myself for school yet, but normally, I’m pretty carefree about it. Maybe it was the fact that a boy had come to my house that wasn’t a bully or the landlord, or someone who was asking for money, like Mr. Game was once forced to.
“Okay, fine... you got me there. Anyway, last night, fuzzy pickles, when I got home, I found this sticky note on my fridge! Did you get something like that?” asked Ness, seemingly panicked as the note came to mind. Oh, no...
“Yeah we did! The one left for us said, Today, you almost died. I’ll make sure it happens again. And when we found that, someone had broken into our house but didn’t take anything! ...well, except for the window. They de—day—deh—”
“Demolished?” Ness suggested.
“Yeah, that word. They demolished the window. But everything else... I found that really weird! But then again, we’re poor people in this house.” I replied. Ness’s life was being held at stake too?! I just couldn’t let that happen! After all, we’re best friends! But I’m still confused on why someone would break in and not even take anything. You got in, so what was the point of it all if you don’t take anything? ...Not that I wanted anyone to steal from us! I already put up with enough BS in a day!
“Oh my Arceus! That’s what happened to me, too! This isn’t good, fuzzy pickles.” cried Ness. Oh... Arceus is the god of all Pokémon. Generally, as I learned the hard way when I first moved to Nintendopolis, saying, “Oh my God” is considered some sort of crime. Billy Quartam just stared at me weird and corrected me politely, but once Fern was in that chair, she put me on probation for two weeks. That was when I started hating her, but I listened anyway. That’s why everyone here says, Oh my Arceus! But anyway...
“What did your note say?” I asked, reaching for Ness’s pockets. He slapped them away, putting his own hands in his pockets and pulling out a crumpled Post-It note. He obviously didn’t take much good care of it.
“It said this. Read it for yourself, and you’ll see.” answered Ness, handing me the note. In my hands, I read the sticky note, and found that it was very similar to the one I got, albeit the lead being smudged a little bit:
Today, you almost died. But I failed. You have three days to live.
“Oh, great. Here goes Skull Kid all over again.” said Mr. Game, having come up from behind me and reading over my shoulder. “After all, he did give Link three days to save Termina before everyone died thanks to the moon.”
“Skull Kid? Don’t you mean —Skull Kid! He could very well be the one! He could be the perpetrator!” I exclaimed, starting to get ahead of myself. I don’t even remember what I just said, but it must’ve been a red light in both Mr. Game and Ness, because they both turned to me with confused faces. Thankfully, though, it wasn’t too, too bad. Nothing like I expected, anyway.
“Since when did you start using such fancy language?” asked Ness and Mr. Game at the same time. So that was my offence? Okay then...
“What did I say?” I asked, legitimately.
“You used the word perpetrator. Now, fuzzy pickles, when did you start using such fancy language?” replied Ness. The colors of his baseball cap stood out to me. The red base contrasted so well with the blue rim! ...Huh? Sorry! Um, I’m easily distracted.
“Oh! Uh... I dunno. That’s the term for the guy who actually did the crime —or in our case, tried, anyway.” I replied. Mr. Game already knew, though. He was the one who told me about that word, anyway. It took me a day to be able to pronounce it.
“Like I did not know?” asked Mr. Game, with a sarcastic, almost snotty tone in his voice. I was about to scold him, but Ness piped up right then.
“So, uh, looks like we’re dealing with the perpetrator here. And whoever the perpetrator is, fuzzy pickles...” said Ness, his sentence finished by Mr. Game.
“...wants to finish his or her mission in three days. It looks like we are on a time limit to figure this out.” Ness glanced at his PokéGear screen briefly.
“...Hey guys, it’s just about time to get to school! After they fired Eggman, or demoted him as far as I’m aware, they’re not scrapping the whole Interspectacular system, but they are changing homerooms. The new principal made sure that happened. We should go see our new classes!” stated Ness. ...You know, now that he brought it up, I should explain the system the Eagleland school board uses at the Academy of the Interspectacular and the Dark, or just the Academy for most people. You see, when Rosalina and King K. Rool originally built the school, they had planned out this whole program that was to teach people how to be a proper video game hero, with some of the most famous as the teachers. Something happened, however. Dr. Ivo Robotnik, aka Dr. Eggman, staged a hostile takeover. He evicted the two and became the self-proclaimed principal, although Rosalina was later able to get a position in astronomy, an optional class that no one takes. (That must hurt.) He also changed the program, making it school-wide but also adding a villain side to it. Every year, you would be assigned to be either an Interspectacular or a Dark. Classes would be taught differently, and you’d have different teachers. When you entered your first class of the year, a machine would stick a star on you, defining which group you were in. I remember destroying that thing in the Math 8 room a month ago, and I don’t exactly remember why. I did rage at it, though, and I remember yelling something about suing Eggman for those things. The two groups are very hostile to each other, and here’s a pointer: NEVER enter the wrong class. Mr. Game learned that one the hard way. He ended up getting beat up, and the surgery to save his life made me broke. I’d prefer not to tell you how that went, but if the time comes I’ll explain. I’d also like not to point out why I had to get him surgery if I have a version of Kirby’s Copy Ability.
“Amber...? Amber! Come on! We are leaving now with Ness! Get your backpack!” scolded Mr. Game, snapping his fingers at me.
“Okay, okay! I got it! Just gimme a minute to get ready!” I replied, picking up my bag from the kitchen (which serves as another living room for us), and dragging Mr. Game to the bathroom.
“Fuzzy pickles! Can I borrow a brush or something?” called Ness from the doorway. After I did my hair and brushed my teeth and all that, and Mr. Game brushed his teeth, I found us heading out the door to catch up with Ness. And no, I didn’t forget the brush.
“So, um... Y-You got any suspects in mind?” I asked, handing Ness the hairbrush. Why did I stutter? It’s not like I was nervous! ...or was I? I was confused, but I tried to push it behind me as Ness fired off ideas. I guess I was just embarrassed about letting a boy borrow a girl’s hairbrush.
“Well, I-I’ve got a few. Fuzzy pickles. T-There’s Fern, because of her p-presidency and those times when she snaps. Then there’s Skull Kid, because of the fact that we’ve got three days to settle this, fuzzy pickles. I-I mean, he d-d-did try to kill everyone in Termina. Finally, Eggman himself, fuzzy pickles. After all, this is his Death Egg. Maybe h-he didn’t want anyone to destroy it but him. Maybe he’s still angry about Mr. Game and the Quartam Sceptre.” suggested Ness, brushing his hair slowly and looking out occasionally to see whether anyone was looking or not. He stuttered too? He didn’t seem nervous before we left! ...Maybe he was scared about the stalker. ...Well, I can’t call them that right now, but who cares? I’ll just use that story for now. There was a suspect he missed, however, that I felt should be on the list.
“I’m gonna add to that. I think Emily’s responsible for this because—” Mr. Game cut me off. He gets very defensive about Emily, probably because she was his girlfriend that I DIDN’T APPROVE OF!! ...Sorry.
“That is not her writing.” Mr. Game refused to show me any evidence, but I’ve seen Emily’s works before—an art project from the year before, Grade 7— so I know what she writes like. Her stuff is very different from this.
“No, you’re right. It’s not.” I argued. “So if it is not her writing, then why would Emily hire someone to send us death threats? I know her better than any of you, and she would never do that.” protested Mr. Game. Okay, let’s make one thing clear: I hate Emily Quartam. She used to be Mr. Game’s girlfriend, but then she tried to kill me, and I can’t be killed. ...Okay, not entirely true. Had she gotten my skirt, I would’ve been a dead woman. The only thing she set on fire was my tank top, which I have multiple of (don’t ask why). I’m still surprised my skin didn’t set on fire, or even my hair! I had it in a bun that day. She wanted nothing more than to have my Mr. Game all to herself. And was I gonna let that happen? Noooooooo. So after that, I gave her the boot and made Mr. Game turn her in. It was emotional for him, but he managed to do it, mainly because I made him. That’s why I got really mad when Mr. Game tried to defend her. So anyway, if Mr. Game knew Emily didn’t do it (and I believe him on it, because he lived with her for a week when he thought I betrayed him--not usually something I’d let him do, but at the time Mr. Game wanted nothing to do with me)... then who did? We were now mere footsteps away from the school doors. It’s a beautiful glass building, with opalescent supports to keep it upright, and it’s even multi-floored! I’m pretty sure that the other floors are for board meetings, and any other way to not use the library, though. Nobody uses that dump anymore. The school was founded about 5 years ago, and it’s pretty popular! Of course, that’s because it’s the only high school in town due to the outrageous way Onett uses its budget, but anyway...
“Amber, we are here. We should inspect the billboards immediately to find our new homerooms.” said Mr. Game.
“But whatever you do, DON’T tell ANYONE about what’s happening here! We might end up telling the stalker! Fuzzy pickles! Then they’ll move up the deadline! Who knows, maybe they’re right beside us!” Ness added in a whisper, quick to get his words out. I understood his urgency. If the stalker found out that we knew (Wait, that’s stupid; they’d go under the assumption that we knew, because they broke into our houses, anyway), then they might move up the deadline! I don’t wanna die so early! After all, it’s not like I can revive myself! Wait, how does that all make sense? I dunno. We walked into the main foyer, to the billboards, which had been moved to the lobby for quick access to most. Mr. Game, Ness, and I scanned the homeroom lists, looking for our names, and seeing the new-and improved staff list.
“Hey, l-looks like Eggman isn’t the Dark robotics and tech-ed teacher anymore.” stated Ness. He was obviously looking for a reaction from me, as he looked me in the eyes when he said it... and that’s what he got, although a minor one. When Ness gave me eye contact, I could feel my cheeks burning. But I just didn’t understand! It’s been this way since Ness saved me from dying! I’ve never been interested in the whole relationship thing! ...And no, no thank you! I hate Pringles, too!
“Really? I’m so surprised Eggman doesn’t teach anymore!” I rolled my eyes sarcastically. “Who took his place?”
“Uh, l-let’s see here... well, w-w-we’ve got Metal Sonic now for that. I want to see how well that went over with the r-real Sonic! Fuzzy pickles!” Ness laughed nervously. I... I don’t... Why are we always nervous around each other? And why does Ness say fuzzy pickles so much? It kinda feels like things have changed between the two of us since Ness saved me two weeks ago. Mr. Game would probably ask sooner or later, which I desperately hoped would never happen... for some reason. And speaking of, Mr. Game then jumped in place, and turned to us excitedly.
“Hold on there! We have a new principal and vice-principal!” cried Mr. Game.
“Really? That one’s obvious, too.” I replied.
“Yes, but here is the good news: Mrs. Fit is now the vice-principal! Which means...” cheered Mr. Game, leaving Ness and I to solve the puzzle. I got a bad feeling about this.
“Your dad got fired, fuzzy pickles!” exclaimed Ness, obviously joking. I panicked slightly, because the way Ness said that, and what he said would both probably make Mr. Game cry now. His parents have always been a touchy subject to talk about. Mr. Watch is Mr. Game’s biological dad. Because of a trance he and his wife, Mrs. Game, were in thanks to Dr. Eggman and his control of the Quartam Sceptre, they did some really questionable things, including abandoning Mr. Game shortly after he was born. When Mr. Game met them for the first time in his life (that’s really sad, because it was about a month ago), Mr. Watch was in favour of the Interspectaculars, and reconsidered his LOVE for Mr. Game, because in our first class groupings, he was a Dark. Of course, unless someone really had a messed up belief, nobody in their right mind would EVER do something like that! His mom, on the other hand, freaked out when she saw him, but that was because she would have to sell most of her belongings to take care of Mr. Game. Basically speaking, she was self-centered and selfish to the point where she didn't even want anybody else to be her responsibility in her life! At that point, I knew something was up. You don’t just randomly decide to hate your own kid one day! That was when I figured they were in a trance. We managed to break that trance, though, and we still have yet to go to court about custody. For now, though, I’m still Mr. Game’s guardian, so he lives with me. (And I really, really hope the Game and Watches did enough evil things for me to keep their son. I can’t imagine what life would be like alone anymore.)
“N-no. Why would you think that? Father got a promotion.” replied Mr. Game, close to tears. I knew it!
“Awesome! Congrats, Mr. Game!” I cried. Mr. Game then grabbed the homeroom sheet from me, scanning the sheet and looking for names.
“...There is no Kooper Kamokawa on this, nor is there a Trooper Kamokawa. They must have received different homerooms. ...Look, there Trooper is in Room 136. My old homeroom,” said Mr. Game. The bell for our first class rang at that point. We all had the same classes, but I had a feeling that come lunch, one of us won’t come to the meeting.
But that feeling told me whoever it was going to be would make me rethink everything I thought I knew— and it told me terrible, terrible things would come from it.
We walked down the hallways and down the stairs to Room 231, also known as Math class. In that class, we were greeted by various Pikmin handing out worksheets and giving us our seating arrangement. We were also given our stars from the machine, but soon after, I heard the sounds of a machine breaking down. And as I had guessed, it was Amber, who had once again destroyed the star-spawning mechanic in the Math room.
“…What? The filter was off! Do I get any kudos for that?” Amber protested. Olimar shook his head, and Amber walked to her seat, holding her head in up proudly. “I don’t care what you say—I won’t let one of those things come close to me again!” In case you do not know, Olimar is what I will call an astronaut from an alien race living on the planet Hocotate. After a meteor crashed into his ship on his way to a vacation, he met the Pikmin, and they helped him rebuild his ship to fly back. That is what I am aware of, anyway, thanks to Amber. Ness ended up in the top-left corner of the seating arrangement, Amber in the top-right corner, and myself in the middle… next to Emily. How would Amber react? Or, more importantly, how would I react? The last time we met before I turned her in to the police, we were at an event, and I had won 100 Pokos to give to anyone in the crowd, and 300 Pokos for myself. I felt like I was in the middle of a tug-of-war, as for I felt pressured by Emily to choose her, but in the end I chose Amber, because she has been there for me for two years when I had nothing to go off from. I needed to clear things up with Emily, however awkward it may be. After all, she may think we have… broken up. That is not what I want to happen between us. So I took things into my own hands.
“H-Hey, Emily.” I said, greeting Emily with a nervous smile.
“Oh, um, h-hi. H-How are you, Barry?” replied Emily. As per usual, she was wearing a pink turtleneck short-sleeve with her long tan skirt. She wore brown boots that seemed to be of fair popularity. She had medium-length blonde hair that was worn down with a hair clip in it, and thankfully, this time that hairlip did not have a camera to spy on her every move. She seemed to have been taken off-guard by my greeting, and we both seemed to be nervous. I refrained from correcting Emily on my name, for she does not seem to learn every other time.
“I-I am fine. Have t-they c-c-come yet?” I asked.
“N-No, they haven’t. L-Let’s hope they don’t.” replied Emily. We both knew what we were talking about. We did not even need to mention it by name. In fact, we could not afford to mention it by name. I cannot explain at the moment. I cannot tell anyone… not even you. “I-If they see t-t-that r-room…w-we’re both in t-t-trouble. B-Big trouble.”
“But we n-never did anything! Emily, a-about what h-h-happened three weeks ago… I am sorry.” I replied, sucking it up as Amber would say, and apologizing. I felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off me in general. Apologizing was just what I needed to do to relieve myself of my guilt.
“I-It’s fine. L-Look, can I talk to y-you at l-lunch? Hopefully the s-science lab?”requested Emily. “I-I just f-found out some g-g-good news. It’s a-about Billy.”
“S-Sure.” I replied. I had another question, however. It was a very urgent one for me. I wanted to know if Emily…if she still, um, considered us to be…
“Emily. Are we s-still…? You know…F-Friends? Like… um, uh… um…” I tried ask nervously, afraid the answer would be no. It took a long time for her to answer, worrying me immensely. I believe I even began to sweat in my place. My throat felt like it was knotting up. But thankfully, Emily understood what I was trying to say
“…Well…I-I think w-w-we can m-make a relationship work. I a-always… This f-feels awkward.” answered Emily, stopping herself to point out the obvious. "But I want to be with you, no matter how much life tries to separate us. You're the only ray of hope I have left."
“I-I believe this is awkward as well,” I replied. "And I never want to lose what we had. We still have it. I am certain of it." Just then, the teacher called from across the room.
“Hand in your sheets, please! We have five minutes until the bell rings!” called the teacher, Olimar. After he got fired from Hocotate Freight, he moved here to Onett to make it big on teaching. I do not know how that is working for him, but I am sure he is doing fine financially… unlike Amber and I in most circumstances. Wait, whoops! I never even did any of the work! I walked to the front of the classroom and put my sheet on Olimar’s desk, face-down, but had I known what I wrote down on the backside, I would have never handed it in.
“I-I have to go. I’ll see you next class.” I informed Emily.
“Oh —okay, see you!” she replied, walking off to her next class, one I knew we shared. I jogged a slight distance through the hall to catch up with Amber and Ness while feeling strangely fatigued, but not before peeking into the math room. Olimar was scanning the sheets, looking on the backs to make sure nobody drew on the sheet. But as I walked outside the classroom with Amber and Ness, I realized what I had actually done during that class. I had made a terrible mistake. We sauntered through the school as we headed to science with Dr. Light, the creator of Mega Man, and nemesis of Dr. Wily.
“Mr. Game! Where were you, fuzzy pickles? I get you were in class, but–” asked Ness.
"Yeah! It’s too bad we couldn’t sit together.” interrupted Amber.
“I-I was in the middle of the room with two people I didn’t know. I did my work discreetly.” I replied. Oh no! Hopefully, my story would be seen as truthful.
“Okay then. Seems legit.” said Ness, giving my story the okay. …But I lied. And since I never lie, or at least not to hurt anybody’s feelings, Amber and Ness would take my word for it. They would never expect what would come later, however. The shock would cause other events I never would have wanted to happen, or even expect to happen. It was a peaceful, sunny day, so the light reflected into the school and shone brightly across the flooring. It made me feel like I had achieved something in life, as if everything that had happened would finally come to a stop. But even worse was to come.
“Look, here we are! Let’s get us some seats and dissect stuff!”exclaimed Amber. Yuck. That stuff makes me sick to my stomach. The last thing any of us—let alone myself—needed to see was the remains of a once-living being, sliced open, the stench filling the classroom and making the queasy toss their cookies. Over in Nintendopolis, we call them Poffins. They were originally for Pokemon alone, being used to increase their Pokemon Contest attributes such as beauty or intelligence, but scientists gathered and later made a formula that was safe for others to consume. Thinking about it alone made me hungry, but that feeling later disappeared as we entered the classroom, ammonia-like smells in the air. I gagged. Amber cheered at the thought of killing something, but then again, she was programmed to be a cold-hearted criminal in the beginning. I still do not understand to this day how she can tolerate it…We walked into the classroom, as I mentioned before, the option of choice seats available to us, and we reserved the front row of desks for us. I unraveled and placed my scarf on the desk next to me, making Ness question me.
“Mr. Game, you already have a desk! Why would you need two, fuzzy pickles?”asked Ness, trying to raise his eyebrows in a suspicious manner but once again making himself a target of laughter.
“Oh, I uh, have too many supplies, and I want to keep dissected Pikmin away from me.” I replied, gagging once again from the scent of dying Pikmin. Dr. Light and Dr. Wily get their day plan from Louie, Olimar’s Dark counterpart. While Olimar will merely use the Onions to subtract Pikmin… I am sure you get the idea. In other words, Louie kills his Pikmin as an alternative. At that moment, Emily entered the class and took the seat in question.
“Thanks, Mr. Game,” she whispered, turning to me and patting me on the shoulder. It felt surprisingly nice, considering I should have been worried since Amber was next to me.
“Wait, what?” asked Amber to herself, turning towards us. She observed the situation, making her final judgment based on what she saw. Thankfully, it did not involve the shoulder. Amber would probably lose her mind over that, but I did not know she would later lose her mind on me another time. “…Meh.” Amber then turned away again, giving her full attention to Dr. Light, who was making a speech about a special cutting knife.
“This is the knife we’ll be using to dissect the Pikmin. It’s a special kind of Swiss Army blade, as you can see, and it’s manufactured specifically for high school biology. The blade is made from titanium, and…” Dr. Light kept going on, and on, and on, and on… I was starting to lose myself at that point in time. I fidgeted in my seat, pulling at my clothing and writing on my sheet. He then used a demonstration of the knife, calling up a volunteer to cut a Pikmin’s head off, catching my attention once again. I’m assuming you know who the one hand in the air was from. I told you earlier.
“Ooh! Me! Me, Dr. Light!! ME!” exclaimed Amber, nearly falling out of her chair. I felt my face burning the same way it would when I was with Emily, except this time, the embarrassment nearly felt like humiliation. I would be associated with a girl who likes to kill! Most times, that does not matter, but it does when it came to that Tuesday three weeks ago.
“All right then, come on up then,” said Dr. Light. Being a master of robotics, part of me pondered why Metal Sonic had beaten him to the punch to teach that class. Amber jumped out of her seat, running up to Dr. Light and nearly running right into his desk.
“Oh, cool! I’ve seen one of those before! I used those a lot when I was six! Can I use it? Can I? Can I? Right now?!” asked Amber, beginning to sound like a hyperactive 4-year old as she jumped in place. Everyone, including Ness and Emily, stared at her in a strange manner. At this point, the embarrassment I mentioned before was humiliation. I buried my head into my hands and leaned into my desk.
“Hey hey hey! Heads up! I need you all to watch how Amber does it so we can learn for ourselves in the future! This stuff will mean a career!” scolded Dr. Light, clapping at us to get our attention. It reminded me of the way Amber would do it, usually catching me off-guard and making me jump in my seat. And as usual, that is exactly what happened.
“But what if my actions bring me to become an artist, or another profession of the sort?” I replied, attempting to backtalk Dr. Light.
“…You have a point. But your exams are coming up in November, and I won’t accept any disrespect, you got that?” Dr. Light scolded. Shoot, I succeeded! H-How?! That almost never happens! Normally, I am looked down on as a disturbance to all things living! I should have been either ignored or sent to detention! Amber butted in on our conversation, overly excited that she was about to kill something.
“Okay, here we go! This is gonna be AWESOME!!” exclaimed Amber. She ran the knife along the red Pikmin’s neck, trying to find a sweetspot, and the next thing I knew, I was tripping over my own feet, trying to reach the bathroom as quickly as possible without throwing up, listening to the laughs of the rest of the class as I did so. I had left my things in the science lab; Emily would most likely return them to me. But there was something else I had forgotten, that I should have brought: My worksheet. Emily will hand it in, for I left it face-up. Life was ready to throw me into the Nether for that… and potentially another. I have no time, however, for my next class would start in five minutes! My bathroom experience… I would like to keep that confidential. I mean, nobody wants to hear the last time you used a toilet, even if you used it as I had, which was puking thanks to science class. …My bad. I dropped the ball there, now, did I not? I cleaned myself up in the stall and exited the bathroom as a normal person should. Amber and Ness were waiting for me outside, playing a finger game to pass time. They seemed to really enjoy themselves. I glared at Amber for her behaviour in the previous class.
“Um, Amber, next time we must dissect a living being, can you please not repeat your surprisingly upbeat and ecstatic tone about it?” I asked, more telling than requesting.
“What else do you expect, Mr. Game? I killed people for a living back in the day! You even saw me do it once!” replied Amber, using backtalk.
“But that was to save my life, Amber. This is a completely different situation.” I told Amber. Ness agreed as well. He nodded and muttered something under his breath that sounded similar to fuzzy pickles before he started speaking, as if he were saying something important.
“If we were to, you know, be in a relationship sometime–and that’s never gonna happen, fuzzy pickles–I don’t want to be associated with the girl who likes to kill. Fuzzy pickles!” stated Ness. He had quite the attitude at times! But there was an excited glint on his eye as he mentioned a potential relationship. “But even then, people tend to change, so I’m not too worried.” Oh, great. Thank you, Captain Obvious. Amber started to blush.
“I-I don’t necessarily l-like to kill, Ness. I just d-don’t mind it. …Uh, no, actually. I’m lying. There’s no d-d-denying that I l-like using my weapons and power. ” Amber also started to fidget with her hair, a giant light-orange ponytail. With the pastel green tank top and golden-yellow skirt she wears, along with her blue shoes with magenta fabric belts and yellow buckles similar to Sonic’s shoes, Amber could be classified as a walking rainbow. She swept her hair in front of her and started twirling parts of her hair around her fingers. Recently, she has been acting strangely around Ness, and vice versa. It made me wonder if something really was going on.
“Now let’s get to class before we are late, shall we?” I suggested. We walked down the hall and up the stairs, the once-sunny sky now dark and grey. I became uncomfortable at once, suddenly anxious that something awful would happen, though nothing was off-kilter at the time. My intuition told me opposite. We ran into Trooper on our path, a friend of Amber, Ness and I. He is a Koopa Paratroopa on the Dark side of things, with us being lucky to be Interspectaculars. Believe me, I know what goes on there with the Darks. And although we did not know too much about him, other than the fact that his sister happened to be Kooper from yesterday, he did not look amused today. We tried to converse with him, despite that we may end up in serious trouble… or at least, Amber and Ness.
“Hey Trooper! How’s it going?” asked Ness.
“…” Trooper didn’t answer. He kept silent. But I could see something in his eyes, something that even I could not explain. And that was rare, because those angry people usually attacked me. He wanted something from us, and he seemed awfully angry at us about it, but he seemed so sullen at the same time. I found it rather strange…
“Uh, Trooper? Why aren’t you answering?” asked Amber, not noticing that Trooper had walked away by then. Her attention span occasionally lacks range. “…Oh. He left.”
“Yes, yes he did.” I told her. I scanned for room 142B, otherwise known as the English room. The specialty there was haiku, a type of poetry where syllable count is everything. After all, Professor Oak has immense talent for it. “Now let’s get going.” We were just in front of the classroom, walking in and finding where our names were on the desks, taking a seat in our class arrangements. Amber, Ness, and I ended up in a row at the back of the room. Amber started digging into the inside of the desk for a pencil, as usual, but I carry a pencil around with me at all times, just in case. Ness soon found something that scared us all, causing me to suddenly shove my hands into the desk and search every corner.
“Guys, I found something! Look in your desks, fuzzy pickles! …Well, at least you, Mr. Game! Once you get it out, ask to go to the bathroom but go to the lockers! We NEED to check this out! Fuzzy pickles!” whispered Ness, quite worried after finding what was in his desk. His face went red, and he looked close to tears. What could make a person go from neutral to crying that fast? I had a feeling he was thinking about something else, something I never thought would even come to mind… I lifted the birch wood cover up, finding it mostly empty, with a broken pencil and lined paper… except for another Post-It note inside:
I saw what you did to Amber, some time ago. You betrayed her, ran away, and backstabbed your special one. Sound familiar? That’s right—it’s you in a nutshell. You betray everyone you meet.
This frightened me. Backstabbing? I never… Whoever this was, they knew about my situation with Amber last week, when I ran away to Emily. They were watching our every move. …I am overlooking something. I know it. But if only I could… They must have been there last Friday at the stadium, too! (I apologize. The Hunger Games was a district-wide event.) But… How had I backstabbed Emily? Yes, I am aware that I ran away from Amber last week, but that was because I had believed she was soliciting my personal information to Emily. In a way, you could say I believed she was backstabbing me. And Emily should have expected me to choose Amber for the 100 Poko prize. She is the only true family I had! Back to the Post-It note, I had not asked right away to make it seem less suspicious. Instead, I drew on the back of the lined paper from inside the desk. Drawing is something I do whenever I am bored, or unsettled, as long as I have the materials to do so. It clears my head, for some reason, but the drawing is usually about something that is happening in my personal life. Often, it is something I would never share with anyone in normal circumstances. People tell me I can draw amazingly, but I never believe them. My self-esteem is very low most days, except for when I am with Emily, or Amber and Ness. They are the few people that care enough to help me up when I fall down. …Oh dear, I seem to have side-tracked again. Back to the topic, I knew for an odd reason to destroy the lined sheet on my desk, but I assured myself it was blank. I left the room, without asking, therefore putting myself at risk, and headed out the room to the lockers. The empty hallways were relaxing, despite the honestly poor weather. The clouds were making a circular shape, a deep grey colour. It took not that long to arrive, but I had nagging thoughts to go back to class and shred the drawing. I ignored them.
“Mr. Game! There you are! What did the note say?” asked Amber. Whoops… I left Amber and Ness waiting for quite a while. Too long, in fact. “Mine said this! You need to see this!”She handed me a Post-It note, which read:
Your friend was stereotyped as evil. I can relate. But in the end, that assumption wasn’t wrong at all. You’re all evil; you and your friends.
“So whoever sent that one knows that I was a Dark last year,” I said, investigating the note before handing it back. “I-I guess that one is obvious, though. Everyone knew me, the kid who got beaten up in the cafeteria. What did your note read, Ness?”
“Check it out for yourself. You jerk, fuzzy pickles.” he replied with an unhappy tone, tossing the note into my arms. Had Ness really referred to me as a jerk?
“Who, me?” I cried, feeling offended. “I do not believe myself to be a jerk, but in the case that I am I will leave at once and expose this secret of ours just to prove your point.” What had I just said? I would never threaten such an awful thing! Ness started to look embarrassed, and he covered his face in his hands.
“Never mind. Fuzzy pickles. I—I was talking about the person with the note.” he muttered. I read it to myself, saying:
A week ago, you had trouble with a bully picking on your friend. Let’s be honest: He deserved it. And Wednesday night, you too, will feel that pain. So will she, if you know what I mean. She goes first.
I was shocked. How could this person think that I…?
“This person thinks I deserved to be beaten up for a week? Who IS this person?” I shouted, tears welling up in my eyes, fearing for the worst. “T-T-Their morals…T-They are…” I could not even force the words out of my mouth. My emotions were getting the best of me.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out! Whoever this is sending death threats has messed up morals!” reassured Amber, hugging me tightly after I tossed my note to Ness. I returned the favour, squeezing Amber and bringing myself into her. Ness went right to reading the note, muttering to himself. It was at this moment that I noticed the presence of someone important. I could not tell who they were, but I knew that they had some sort of significance to us.
“W-who is the she the note you received refers to, Ness?” I asked. The person sending the notes must have known something we did not. I was interested in knowing what that something was.
“She? Fuzzy pickles, even I don’t know,” replied Ness in a hurry. He went back to reading the note I had given him. “You betrayed…special one…sound familiar?” He looked up at us. “That’s not right, fuzzy pickles. You never betrayed anyone. You were furious at Amber, but you never betrayed anyone else, fuzzy pickles.” responded Ness after scanning the note. So it seemed I was making the right choices!
“I don’t know why—” The bell went for lunch.
“Never mind. We’ll do this in the library. Everyone’ll hear us if we do it here. We can get lunch later, right?” Ness said, as if he were making a choice for the three of us. He was the oldest of us, anyway, by a few months. He was born sometime in August 2001, I was born in December 2001, and Amber was born in October 2002. But to meet Emily in the science lab, I had to make up a believable story.
“Um, I would like just a bit of time to grab something to eat. I will bring my food to the library, I promise. I’m just very hungry at the moment,” I stated. If I wanted to meet with Emily, like I said before, I would have to make up some sort of story to escape! (Apologies for repeating known information.) And at the current moment, that was what seemed the most believable. It was either that, or something about coping with the stress. But that excuse would be controversial, since Amber told me some time ago that some people use other methods to cope when under stress, and I did not want that to be assumed.
“…Fine. But make sure you keep that promise.”agreed Amber reluctantly. “I don’t wanna see you get arrested somehow and then end up in court. Wait, where am I getting that?” Having lived with her for two years, I knew Amber was prone to twisted thoughts and strange dreams, but she was always sure they were physically impossible considering our situation. She forgot Nintendopolis’s golden rule… I walked back in the direction to the cafeteria, far enough to safely make sure that Amber and Ness were gone, and then made my way to the science lab. Most students were rushing to their lockers, putting their belongings away and dashing over to the cafeteria to be the first in line. I personally dreaded the place! Last week, whenever I tried to recover my peace and mind there (aka just trying to eat something for once), I would get beaten up in the middle of the line. Sometimes, I ponder over why I didn’t just go to Amber in the first place, but I was still very angry at her for a false accusation I had made based on what Emily had told me. Emily would tell me that Amber was exposing my privacy to the public, even going as far as to insult my weight, saying I would often eat too much and needed to lay off. Besides, the other students would beat me up even more. I should have known that statement was false! I ignored the commotion of students and walked through the recently waxed halls, and when I arrived, Emily was already there waiting for me.
“Hey Barry! I just got here about 5 minutes ago. Haiku sucks! Anyway, thanks for coming.” said Emily. She had a calmer tone in her voice, but calm was not what to feel about the next events.
“Y-You are welcome. N-Nobody has asked w-why you were u-upset three w-w-weeks ago?” I asked. I must have been nervous again, but it wasn’t about Emily. …Well, partially, it was Emily. I-I mean, she is still t-technically my g-girlfriend… right? I would soon find out I had a reason to be nervous.
“N-No. They h-h-haven’t.” answered Emily. Whew. That was a relief. Nobody could know about that Tuesday!
“But they will now. Get over here, this INSTANT.” Dr. Light, Olimar, and Professor Oak were behind us. Emily screamed in fear and tried to run away. I attempted to do the same… but I could not. I was alarmed. The door had been locked behind us, preventing us from escaping. But how did Olimar, and Dr. Light, and Professor Oak find out?! My memory started reeling back to me, and I suddenly realized I had made a terrible, terrible mistake. At this point, the gray cement floor and walls were turning into a pit of death. Our lives were about to become much darker than Emily or I needed to experience.
“Barry? Emily? We’d like you to explain this.” demanded Olimar, handing back our math sheets. Scanning over the sheet, I panicked. I started to feel lightheaded as I read to myself what I had written on the sheet:
Emily’s parents: Dead. Door locked. No one to find it. No one to get in. That Tuesday three weeks ago… why? I kept shut, but I should not have. I should have done what was right.
“I-I-I w-wrote that?” I asked, stuttering.
“Yes, indeed you did.” replied Olimar. Now we were being falsely accused of killing two people, let alone one?!
“T-T-This is not w-what i-i-it looks like!”I pleaded. “Y-You were not t-there! You do not know what happened that night!!”
“These sheets give us a clear window, Barry.” snapped Olimar. I would have corrected him on my name, but now was not the time. As Professor Oak likes to say, “There is a time and place for everything. But not now.”
“Mr. Game, y-you should see my sheet.” suggested Emily. We traded papers, and this is what Emily wrote:
What have I done? Why did I leave them there? Why?!
“Oh my Arceus. How did I not…? Barry, they have to understand!! They…They—” Emily cried, tears streaming down her face, interrupted by Dr. Light.
“We do understand already. Take a look at this.” said Dr. Light harshly, handing us our science sheets. The teachers were so firm in their beliefs, as if they were jumping to conclusions. I find that ironic, since a speech was given last Friday on why jumping to conclusions is bad, and why you should let people explain their situation. As if I wasn’t stressed enough, my next sheet suggested I was the killer:
“MOM! DAD! KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU BEFORE YOU GO! I’LL SAVE YOU! PLEASE, DON’T DIE!!” The line still gives me chills. I cannot erase it from my mind. I should have told her... Why have I done this to my girlfriend?
“You have the wrong idea, Dr. Light! You have no idea what actually happened! You were never there, so stop with the accusations!!” I shouted, doing my best not to break down and cry. It was taking all my willpower not to. I was not going to cry in front of the authorities and Emily! At this point, I felt like someone was watching us. In fact, we were most likely drawing great amounts of attention to us, but I felt an ominous presence just outside the door. Why? Emily refused to share her sheet with me, shoving it in her pocket.
“I-I-It’s v-very p-p-personal.” she sobbed, before crying back into my arms. I hugged her back, holding her close to me. I tried to think of why Emily would hide that sheet in particular…Was it…? We were already in hot water, but Emily did NOT deserve the pain of law enforcement.
“So w-why are y-y-you here?” I asked, getting defensive.
“Olimar came to me after he got your sheet back. He told me it was suspicious. Then, Dr. Light came to Olimar with both your work and Emily’s, and I came to them with your drawing you left on your desk. We all agreed it was disturbing. And then, we came together once again after we found Emily’s math sheet from your class. We knew we had to do something. Then somebody tipped us off about you two meeting here at lunch. All the sheets tied into something… and then we figured out what it was.” explained Professor Oak.
“WHAT?! Who?! WHO TOLD YOU?!” I screamed, choking back tears. “GIVE ME THE ANSWERS!!” I was ready to simply give up at that point.
“I won’t tell,”said Professor Oak, “but they left me a sticky note. I already disposed of it. Now, you may want to see this.” He held up the drawing from earlier, the one I had done before leaving the classroom. And as I had feared, it was exactly what was on my mind at the time. I had drawn the scene of the crime as I had seen it, in more detail than it needed to be; in more detail than an eighth grade boy needed to know, though I must soften the description of the drawing's contents for your sake. Everything was where it was, and looked how it did at the scene of the murder. Mr. Quartam’s body on the floor, Mrs. Quartam’s on the bed, in a distorted proportion. Both bodies had gunshot wound in the neck, implying a gun was used. Although it was a pencilled drawing, I knew the colors: At daytime, the walls were a sophisticated faded green. The floor was made of furnished acacia wood. On the left side of the bed stood a fancy marble bookshelf. The Quartams ultimately fell in the room where they were supposed to feel safest. I knew this scenario like it had just happened because I cannot forget that night. I often have nightmares because of it. We never even did anything! …Now that this is the topic, I shall explain to you at last. Last week, Mr. Quartam, also known as Emily’s dad, obtained a gun from a friend. He never told him why he wanted it, but he did tell me that the friend would not see him for a while afterwards when I asked about it. It was during this conversation that I learned of the terrible things Mr. Quartam was going to do with that acquired gun. Two nights later… He used it. And in doing so, he ended up killing Mrs. Quartam as well, due to her panicking at the last second. That night was quite a fearful one. The gunshots woke me up with a bang (if you get the—now is not the time for puns), so I most likely cried loud enough to wake up the entire neighbourhood. My PokeGear had no reception at Emily’s house, and none of the Quartams owned a phone. Not even Emily…there was nothing we could do about it. By the time I would be able to call emergency crews, they would both be dead. If only I had told Emily, if only I had taken the gun and destroyed it, or hidden it…Mrs. Quartam could still be alive today. But we messed up. We left the scene of the crime intact and locked the door so no one could get in. We could not let anyone—not even the police or Amber—know about that night’s happenings. And now, because of things we never had wanted to happen, the teachers thought we were the prime suspects? This was not fair! “
You were lucky your father hadn’t heard of this, young man, but I’m afraid that’ll have to cease!” commanded Dr. Light.
“Get ‘em, cops!” shouted Olimar, blowing the whistle in his space helmet. (Oxygen is poisonous to those from Hocotate. No joke. I saw one suffocate when I was still residing in a Superflat City hospital.) Four police officers busted themselves out of a cabinet and did their things, two holding us at gunpoint and telling us to raise our hands, and two of them handcuffing us, escorting us out the nearest doors and into the nearby police cars. Professor Oak picked up the phone in the laboratory. And then there was the announcement:
“Code Red!! Code Red!!”
Father’s voice.
And little did I know that the anonymous tipper would be the same person who was sending us the notes.
“…What? The filter was off! Do I get any kudos for that?” Amber protested. Olimar shook his head, and Amber walked to her seat, holding her head in up proudly. “I don’t care what you say—I won’t let one of those things come close to me again!” In case you do not know, Olimar is what I will call an astronaut from an alien race living on the planet Hocotate. After a meteor crashed into his ship on his way to a vacation, he met the Pikmin, and they helped him rebuild his ship to fly back. That is what I am aware of, anyway, thanks to Amber. Ness ended up in the top-left corner of the seating arrangement, Amber in the top-right corner, and myself in the middle… next to Emily. How would Amber react? Or, more importantly, how would I react? The last time we met before I turned her in to the police, we were at an event, and I had won 100 Pokos to give to anyone in the crowd, and 300 Pokos for myself. I felt like I was in the middle of a tug-of-war, as for I felt pressured by Emily to choose her, but in the end I chose Amber, because she has been there for me for two years when I had nothing to go off from. I needed to clear things up with Emily, however awkward it may be. After all, she may think we have… broken up. That is not what I want to happen between us. So I took things into my own hands.
“H-Hey, Emily.” I said, greeting Emily with a nervous smile.
“Oh, um, h-hi. H-How are you, Barry?” replied Emily. As per usual, she was wearing a pink turtleneck short-sleeve with her long tan skirt. She wore brown boots that seemed to be of fair popularity. She had medium-length blonde hair that was worn down with a hair clip in it, and thankfully, this time that hairlip did not have a camera to spy on her every move. She seemed to have been taken off-guard by my greeting, and we both seemed to be nervous. I refrained from correcting Emily on my name, for she does not seem to learn every other time.
“I-I am fine. Have t-they c-c-come yet?” I asked.
“N-No, they haven’t. L-Let’s hope they don’t.” replied Emily. We both knew what we were talking about. We did not even need to mention it by name. In fact, we could not afford to mention it by name. I cannot explain at the moment. I cannot tell anyone… not even you. “I-If they see t-t-that r-room…w-we’re both in t-t-trouble. B-Big trouble.”
“But we n-never did anything! Emily, a-about what h-h-happened three weeks ago… I am sorry.” I replied, sucking it up as Amber would say, and apologizing. I felt as if a giant weight had been lifted off me in general. Apologizing was just what I needed to do to relieve myself of my guilt.
“I-It’s fine. L-Look, can I talk to y-you at l-lunch? Hopefully the s-science lab?”requested Emily. “I-I just f-found out some g-g-good news. It’s a-about Billy.”
“S-Sure.” I replied. I had another question, however. It was a very urgent one for me. I wanted to know if Emily…if she still, um, considered us to be…
“Emily. Are we s-still…? You know…F-Friends? Like… um, uh… um…” I tried ask nervously, afraid the answer would be no. It took a long time for her to answer, worrying me immensely. I believe I even began to sweat in my place. My throat felt like it was knotting up. But thankfully, Emily understood what I was trying to say
“…Well…I-I think w-w-we can m-make a relationship work. I a-always… This f-feels awkward.” answered Emily, stopping herself to point out the obvious. "But I want to be with you, no matter how much life tries to separate us. You're the only ray of hope I have left."
“I-I believe this is awkward as well,” I replied. "And I never want to lose what we had. We still have it. I am certain of it." Just then, the teacher called from across the room.
“Hand in your sheets, please! We have five minutes until the bell rings!” called the teacher, Olimar. After he got fired from Hocotate Freight, he moved here to Onett to make it big on teaching. I do not know how that is working for him, but I am sure he is doing fine financially… unlike Amber and I in most circumstances. Wait, whoops! I never even did any of the work! I walked to the front of the classroom and put my sheet on Olimar’s desk, face-down, but had I known what I wrote down on the backside, I would have never handed it in.
“I-I have to go. I’ll see you next class.” I informed Emily.
“Oh —okay, see you!” she replied, walking off to her next class, one I knew we shared. I jogged a slight distance through the hall to catch up with Amber and Ness while feeling strangely fatigued, but not before peeking into the math room. Olimar was scanning the sheets, looking on the backs to make sure nobody drew on the sheet. But as I walked outside the classroom with Amber and Ness, I realized what I had actually done during that class. I had made a terrible mistake. We sauntered through the school as we headed to science with Dr. Light, the creator of Mega Man, and nemesis of Dr. Wily.
“Mr. Game! Where were you, fuzzy pickles? I get you were in class, but–” asked Ness.
"Yeah! It’s too bad we couldn’t sit together.” interrupted Amber.
“I-I was in the middle of the room with two people I didn’t know. I did my work discreetly.” I replied. Oh no! Hopefully, my story would be seen as truthful.
“Okay then. Seems legit.” said Ness, giving my story the okay. …But I lied. And since I never lie, or at least not to hurt anybody’s feelings, Amber and Ness would take my word for it. They would never expect what would come later, however. The shock would cause other events I never would have wanted to happen, or even expect to happen. It was a peaceful, sunny day, so the light reflected into the school and shone brightly across the flooring. It made me feel like I had achieved something in life, as if everything that had happened would finally come to a stop. But even worse was to come.
“Look, here we are! Let’s get us some seats and dissect stuff!”exclaimed Amber. Yuck. That stuff makes me sick to my stomach. The last thing any of us—let alone myself—needed to see was the remains of a once-living being, sliced open, the stench filling the classroom and making the queasy toss their cookies. Over in Nintendopolis, we call them Poffins. They were originally for Pokemon alone, being used to increase their Pokemon Contest attributes such as beauty or intelligence, but scientists gathered and later made a formula that was safe for others to consume. Thinking about it alone made me hungry, but that feeling later disappeared as we entered the classroom, ammonia-like smells in the air. I gagged. Amber cheered at the thought of killing something, but then again, she was programmed to be a cold-hearted criminal in the beginning. I still do not understand to this day how she can tolerate it…We walked into the classroom, as I mentioned before, the option of choice seats available to us, and we reserved the front row of desks for us. I unraveled and placed my scarf on the desk next to me, making Ness question me.
“Mr. Game, you already have a desk! Why would you need two, fuzzy pickles?”asked Ness, trying to raise his eyebrows in a suspicious manner but once again making himself a target of laughter.
“Oh, I uh, have too many supplies, and I want to keep dissected Pikmin away from me.” I replied, gagging once again from the scent of dying Pikmin. Dr. Light and Dr. Wily get their day plan from Louie, Olimar’s Dark counterpart. While Olimar will merely use the Onions to subtract Pikmin… I am sure you get the idea. In other words, Louie kills his Pikmin as an alternative. At that moment, Emily entered the class and took the seat in question.
“Thanks, Mr. Game,” she whispered, turning to me and patting me on the shoulder. It felt surprisingly nice, considering I should have been worried since Amber was next to me.
“Wait, what?” asked Amber to herself, turning towards us. She observed the situation, making her final judgment based on what she saw. Thankfully, it did not involve the shoulder. Amber would probably lose her mind over that, but I did not know she would later lose her mind on me another time. “…Meh.” Amber then turned away again, giving her full attention to Dr. Light, who was making a speech about a special cutting knife.
“This is the knife we’ll be using to dissect the Pikmin. It’s a special kind of Swiss Army blade, as you can see, and it’s manufactured specifically for high school biology. The blade is made from titanium, and…” Dr. Light kept going on, and on, and on, and on… I was starting to lose myself at that point in time. I fidgeted in my seat, pulling at my clothing and writing on my sheet. He then used a demonstration of the knife, calling up a volunteer to cut a Pikmin’s head off, catching my attention once again. I’m assuming you know who the one hand in the air was from. I told you earlier.
“Ooh! Me! Me, Dr. Light!! ME!” exclaimed Amber, nearly falling out of her chair. I felt my face burning the same way it would when I was with Emily, except this time, the embarrassment nearly felt like humiliation. I would be associated with a girl who likes to kill! Most times, that does not matter, but it does when it came to that Tuesday three weeks ago.
“All right then, come on up then,” said Dr. Light. Being a master of robotics, part of me pondered why Metal Sonic had beaten him to the punch to teach that class. Amber jumped out of her seat, running up to Dr. Light and nearly running right into his desk.
“Oh, cool! I’ve seen one of those before! I used those a lot when I was six! Can I use it? Can I? Can I? Right now?!” asked Amber, beginning to sound like a hyperactive 4-year old as she jumped in place. Everyone, including Ness and Emily, stared at her in a strange manner. At this point, the embarrassment I mentioned before was humiliation. I buried my head into my hands and leaned into my desk.
“Hey hey hey! Heads up! I need you all to watch how Amber does it so we can learn for ourselves in the future! This stuff will mean a career!” scolded Dr. Light, clapping at us to get our attention. It reminded me of the way Amber would do it, usually catching me off-guard and making me jump in my seat. And as usual, that is exactly what happened.
“But what if my actions bring me to become an artist, or another profession of the sort?” I replied, attempting to backtalk Dr. Light.
“…You have a point. But your exams are coming up in November, and I won’t accept any disrespect, you got that?” Dr. Light scolded. Shoot, I succeeded! H-How?! That almost never happens! Normally, I am looked down on as a disturbance to all things living! I should have been either ignored or sent to detention! Amber butted in on our conversation, overly excited that she was about to kill something.
“Okay, here we go! This is gonna be AWESOME!!” exclaimed Amber. She ran the knife along the red Pikmin’s neck, trying to find a sweetspot, and the next thing I knew, I was tripping over my own feet, trying to reach the bathroom as quickly as possible without throwing up, listening to the laughs of the rest of the class as I did so. I had left my things in the science lab; Emily would most likely return them to me. But there was something else I had forgotten, that I should have brought: My worksheet. Emily will hand it in, for I left it face-up. Life was ready to throw me into the Nether for that… and potentially another. I have no time, however, for my next class would start in five minutes! My bathroom experience… I would like to keep that confidential. I mean, nobody wants to hear the last time you used a toilet, even if you used it as I had, which was puking thanks to science class. …My bad. I dropped the ball there, now, did I not? I cleaned myself up in the stall and exited the bathroom as a normal person should. Amber and Ness were waiting for me outside, playing a finger game to pass time. They seemed to really enjoy themselves. I glared at Amber for her behaviour in the previous class.
“Um, Amber, next time we must dissect a living being, can you please not repeat your surprisingly upbeat and ecstatic tone about it?” I asked, more telling than requesting.
“What else do you expect, Mr. Game? I killed people for a living back in the day! You even saw me do it once!” replied Amber, using backtalk.
“But that was to save my life, Amber. This is a completely different situation.” I told Amber. Ness agreed as well. He nodded and muttered something under his breath that sounded similar to fuzzy pickles before he started speaking, as if he were saying something important.
“If we were to, you know, be in a relationship sometime–and that’s never gonna happen, fuzzy pickles–I don’t want to be associated with the girl who likes to kill. Fuzzy pickles!” stated Ness. He had quite the attitude at times! But there was an excited glint on his eye as he mentioned a potential relationship. “But even then, people tend to change, so I’m not too worried.” Oh, great. Thank you, Captain Obvious. Amber started to blush.
“I-I don’t necessarily l-like to kill, Ness. I just d-don’t mind it. …Uh, no, actually. I’m lying. There’s no d-d-denying that I l-like using my weapons and power. ” Amber also started to fidget with her hair, a giant light-orange ponytail. With the pastel green tank top and golden-yellow skirt she wears, along with her blue shoes with magenta fabric belts and yellow buckles similar to Sonic’s shoes, Amber could be classified as a walking rainbow. She swept her hair in front of her and started twirling parts of her hair around her fingers. Recently, she has been acting strangely around Ness, and vice versa. It made me wonder if something really was going on.
“Now let’s get to class before we are late, shall we?” I suggested. We walked down the hall and up the stairs, the once-sunny sky now dark and grey. I became uncomfortable at once, suddenly anxious that something awful would happen, though nothing was off-kilter at the time. My intuition told me opposite. We ran into Trooper on our path, a friend of Amber, Ness and I. He is a Koopa Paratroopa on the Dark side of things, with us being lucky to be Interspectaculars. Believe me, I know what goes on there with the Darks. And although we did not know too much about him, other than the fact that his sister happened to be Kooper from yesterday, he did not look amused today. We tried to converse with him, despite that we may end up in serious trouble… or at least, Amber and Ness.
“Hey Trooper! How’s it going?” asked Ness.
“…” Trooper didn’t answer. He kept silent. But I could see something in his eyes, something that even I could not explain. And that was rare, because those angry people usually attacked me. He wanted something from us, and he seemed awfully angry at us about it, but he seemed so sullen at the same time. I found it rather strange…
“Uh, Trooper? Why aren’t you answering?” asked Amber, not noticing that Trooper had walked away by then. Her attention span occasionally lacks range. “…Oh. He left.”
“Yes, yes he did.” I told her. I scanned for room 142B, otherwise known as the English room. The specialty there was haiku, a type of poetry where syllable count is everything. After all, Professor Oak has immense talent for it. “Now let’s get going.” We were just in front of the classroom, walking in and finding where our names were on the desks, taking a seat in our class arrangements. Amber, Ness, and I ended up in a row at the back of the room. Amber started digging into the inside of the desk for a pencil, as usual, but I carry a pencil around with me at all times, just in case. Ness soon found something that scared us all, causing me to suddenly shove my hands into the desk and search every corner.
“Guys, I found something! Look in your desks, fuzzy pickles! …Well, at least you, Mr. Game! Once you get it out, ask to go to the bathroom but go to the lockers! We NEED to check this out! Fuzzy pickles!” whispered Ness, quite worried after finding what was in his desk. His face went red, and he looked close to tears. What could make a person go from neutral to crying that fast? I had a feeling he was thinking about something else, something I never thought would even come to mind… I lifted the birch wood cover up, finding it mostly empty, with a broken pencil and lined paper… except for another Post-It note inside:
I saw what you did to Amber, some time ago. You betrayed her, ran away, and backstabbed your special one. Sound familiar? That’s right—it’s you in a nutshell. You betray everyone you meet.
This frightened me. Backstabbing? I never… Whoever this was, they knew about my situation with Amber last week, when I ran away to Emily. They were watching our every move. …I am overlooking something. I know it. But if only I could… They must have been there last Friday at the stadium, too! (I apologize. The Hunger Games was a district-wide event.) But… How had I backstabbed Emily? Yes, I am aware that I ran away from Amber last week, but that was because I had believed she was soliciting my personal information to Emily. In a way, you could say I believed she was backstabbing me. And Emily should have expected me to choose Amber for the 100 Poko prize. She is the only true family I had! Back to the Post-It note, I had not asked right away to make it seem less suspicious. Instead, I drew on the back of the lined paper from inside the desk. Drawing is something I do whenever I am bored, or unsettled, as long as I have the materials to do so. It clears my head, for some reason, but the drawing is usually about something that is happening in my personal life. Often, it is something I would never share with anyone in normal circumstances. People tell me I can draw amazingly, but I never believe them. My self-esteem is very low most days, except for when I am with Emily, or Amber and Ness. They are the few people that care enough to help me up when I fall down. …Oh dear, I seem to have side-tracked again. Back to the topic, I knew for an odd reason to destroy the lined sheet on my desk, but I assured myself it was blank. I left the room, without asking, therefore putting myself at risk, and headed out the room to the lockers. The empty hallways were relaxing, despite the honestly poor weather. The clouds were making a circular shape, a deep grey colour. It took not that long to arrive, but I had nagging thoughts to go back to class and shred the drawing. I ignored them.
“Mr. Game! There you are! What did the note say?” asked Amber. Whoops… I left Amber and Ness waiting for quite a while. Too long, in fact. “Mine said this! You need to see this!”She handed me a Post-It note, which read:
Your friend was stereotyped as evil. I can relate. But in the end, that assumption wasn’t wrong at all. You’re all evil; you and your friends.
“So whoever sent that one knows that I was a Dark last year,” I said, investigating the note before handing it back. “I-I guess that one is obvious, though. Everyone knew me, the kid who got beaten up in the cafeteria. What did your note read, Ness?”
“Check it out for yourself. You jerk, fuzzy pickles.” he replied with an unhappy tone, tossing the note into my arms. Had Ness really referred to me as a jerk?
“Who, me?” I cried, feeling offended. “I do not believe myself to be a jerk, but in the case that I am I will leave at once and expose this secret of ours just to prove your point.” What had I just said? I would never threaten such an awful thing! Ness started to look embarrassed, and he covered his face in his hands.
“Never mind. Fuzzy pickles. I—I was talking about the person with the note.” he muttered. I read it to myself, saying:
A week ago, you had trouble with a bully picking on your friend. Let’s be honest: He deserved it. And Wednesday night, you too, will feel that pain. So will she, if you know what I mean. She goes first.
I was shocked. How could this person think that I…?
“This person thinks I deserved to be beaten up for a week? Who IS this person?” I shouted, tears welling up in my eyes, fearing for the worst. “T-T-Their morals…T-They are…” I could not even force the words out of my mouth. My emotions were getting the best of me.
“That’s what we’re trying to find out! Whoever this is sending death threats has messed up morals!” reassured Amber, hugging me tightly after I tossed my note to Ness. I returned the favour, squeezing Amber and bringing myself into her. Ness went right to reading the note, muttering to himself. It was at this moment that I noticed the presence of someone important. I could not tell who they were, but I knew that they had some sort of significance to us.
“W-who is the she the note you received refers to, Ness?” I asked. The person sending the notes must have known something we did not. I was interested in knowing what that something was.
“She? Fuzzy pickles, even I don’t know,” replied Ness in a hurry. He went back to reading the note I had given him. “You betrayed…special one…sound familiar?” He looked up at us. “That’s not right, fuzzy pickles. You never betrayed anyone. You were furious at Amber, but you never betrayed anyone else, fuzzy pickles.” responded Ness after scanning the note. So it seemed I was making the right choices!
“I don’t know why—” The bell went for lunch.
“Never mind. We’ll do this in the library. Everyone’ll hear us if we do it here. We can get lunch later, right?” Ness said, as if he were making a choice for the three of us. He was the oldest of us, anyway, by a few months. He was born sometime in August 2001, I was born in December 2001, and Amber was born in October 2002. But to meet Emily in the science lab, I had to make up a believable story.
“Um, I would like just a bit of time to grab something to eat. I will bring my food to the library, I promise. I’m just very hungry at the moment,” I stated. If I wanted to meet with Emily, like I said before, I would have to make up some sort of story to escape! (Apologies for repeating known information.) And at the current moment, that was what seemed the most believable. It was either that, or something about coping with the stress. But that excuse would be controversial, since Amber told me some time ago that some people use other methods to cope when under stress, and I did not want that to be assumed.
“…Fine. But make sure you keep that promise.”agreed Amber reluctantly. “I don’t wanna see you get arrested somehow and then end up in court. Wait, where am I getting that?” Having lived with her for two years, I knew Amber was prone to twisted thoughts and strange dreams, but she was always sure they were physically impossible considering our situation. She forgot Nintendopolis’s golden rule… I walked back in the direction to the cafeteria, far enough to safely make sure that Amber and Ness were gone, and then made my way to the science lab. Most students were rushing to their lockers, putting their belongings away and dashing over to the cafeteria to be the first in line. I personally dreaded the place! Last week, whenever I tried to recover my peace and mind there (aka just trying to eat something for once), I would get beaten up in the middle of the line. Sometimes, I ponder over why I didn’t just go to Amber in the first place, but I was still very angry at her for a false accusation I had made based on what Emily had told me. Emily would tell me that Amber was exposing my privacy to the public, even going as far as to insult my weight, saying I would often eat too much and needed to lay off. Besides, the other students would beat me up even more. I should have known that statement was false! I ignored the commotion of students and walked through the recently waxed halls, and when I arrived, Emily was already there waiting for me.
“Hey Barry! I just got here about 5 minutes ago. Haiku sucks! Anyway, thanks for coming.” said Emily. She had a calmer tone in her voice, but calm was not what to feel about the next events.
“Y-You are welcome. N-Nobody has asked w-why you were u-upset three w-w-weeks ago?” I asked. I must have been nervous again, but it wasn’t about Emily. …Well, partially, it was Emily. I-I mean, she is still t-technically my g-girlfriend… right? I would soon find out I had a reason to be nervous.
“N-No. They h-h-haven’t.” answered Emily. Whew. That was a relief. Nobody could know about that Tuesday!
“But they will now. Get over here, this INSTANT.” Dr. Light, Olimar, and Professor Oak were behind us. Emily screamed in fear and tried to run away. I attempted to do the same… but I could not. I was alarmed. The door had been locked behind us, preventing us from escaping. But how did Olimar, and Dr. Light, and Professor Oak find out?! My memory started reeling back to me, and I suddenly realized I had made a terrible, terrible mistake. At this point, the gray cement floor and walls were turning into a pit of death. Our lives were about to become much darker than Emily or I needed to experience.
“Barry? Emily? We’d like you to explain this.” demanded Olimar, handing back our math sheets. Scanning over the sheet, I panicked. I started to feel lightheaded as I read to myself what I had written on the sheet:
Emily’s parents: Dead. Door locked. No one to find it. No one to get in. That Tuesday three weeks ago… why? I kept shut, but I should not have. I should have done what was right.
“I-I-I w-wrote that?” I asked, stuttering.
“Yes, indeed you did.” replied Olimar. Now we were being falsely accused of killing two people, let alone one?!
“T-T-This is not w-what i-i-it looks like!”I pleaded. “Y-You were not t-there! You do not know what happened that night!!”
“These sheets give us a clear window, Barry.” snapped Olimar. I would have corrected him on my name, but now was not the time. As Professor Oak likes to say, “There is a time and place for everything. But not now.”
“Mr. Game, y-you should see my sheet.” suggested Emily. We traded papers, and this is what Emily wrote:
What have I done? Why did I leave them there? Why?!
“Oh my Arceus. How did I not…? Barry, they have to understand!! They…They—” Emily cried, tears streaming down her face, interrupted by Dr. Light.
“We do understand already. Take a look at this.” said Dr. Light harshly, handing us our science sheets. The teachers were so firm in their beliefs, as if they were jumping to conclusions. I find that ironic, since a speech was given last Friday on why jumping to conclusions is bad, and why you should let people explain their situation. As if I wasn’t stressed enough, my next sheet suggested I was the killer:
“MOM! DAD! KNOW THAT I LOVE YOU BEFORE YOU GO! I’LL SAVE YOU! PLEASE, DON’T DIE!!” The line still gives me chills. I cannot erase it from my mind. I should have told her... Why have I done this to my girlfriend?
“You have the wrong idea, Dr. Light! You have no idea what actually happened! You were never there, so stop with the accusations!!” I shouted, doing my best not to break down and cry. It was taking all my willpower not to. I was not going to cry in front of the authorities and Emily! At this point, I felt like someone was watching us. In fact, we were most likely drawing great amounts of attention to us, but I felt an ominous presence just outside the door. Why? Emily refused to share her sheet with me, shoving it in her pocket.
“I-I-It’s v-very p-p-personal.” she sobbed, before crying back into my arms. I hugged her back, holding her close to me. I tried to think of why Emily would hide that sheet in particular…Was it…? We were already in hot water, but Emily did NOT deserve the pain of law enforcement.
“So w-why are y-y-you here?” I asked, getting defensive.
“Olimar came to me after he got your sheet back. He told me it was suspicious. Then, Dr. Light came to Olimar with both your work and Emily’s, and I came to them with your drawing you left on your desk. We all agreed it was disturbing. And then, we came together once again after we found Emily’s math sheet from your class. We knew we had to do something. Then somebody tipped us off about you two meeting here at lunch. All the sheets tied into something… and then we figured out what it was.” explained Professor Oak.
“WHAT?! Who?! WHO TOLD YOU?!” I screamed, choking back tears. “GIVE ME THE ANSWERS!!” I was ready to simply give up at that point.
“I won’t tell,”said Professor Oak, “but they left me a sticky note. I already disposed of it. Now, you may want to see this.” He held up the drawing from earlier, the one I had done before leaving the classroom. And as I had feared, it was exactly what was on my mind at the time. I had drawn the scene of the crime as I had seen it, in more detail than it needed to be; in more detail than an eighth grade boy needed to know, though I must soften the description of the drawing's contents for your sake. Everything was where it was, and looked how it did at the scene of the murder. Mr. Quartam’s body on the floor, Mrs. Quartam’s on the bed, in a distorted proportion. Both bodies had gunshot wound in the neck, implying a gun was used. Although it was a pencilled drawing, I knew the colors: At daytime, the walls were a sophisticated faded green. The floor was made of furnished acacia wood. On the left side of the bed stood a fancy marble bookshelf. The Quartams ultimately fell in the room where they were supposed to feel safest. I knew this scenario like it had just happened because I cannot forget that night. I often have nightmares because of it. We never even did anything! …Now that this is the topic, I shall explain to you at last. Last week, Mr. Quartam, also known as Emily’s dad, obtained a gun from a friend. He never told him why he wanted it, but he did tell me that the friend would not see him for a while afterwards when I asked about it. It was during this conversation that I learned of the terrible things Mr. Quartam was going to do with that acquired gun. Two nights later… He used it. And in doing so, he ended up killing Mrs. Quartam as well, due to her panicking at the last second. That night was quite a fearful one. The gunshots woke me up with a bang (if you get the—now is not the time for puns), so I most likely cried loud enough to wake up the entire neighbourhood. My PokeGear had no reception at Emily’s house, and none of the Quartams owned a phone. Not even Emily…there was nothing we could do about it. By the time I would be able to call emergency crews, they would both be dead. If only I had told Emily, if only I had taken the gun and destroyed it, or hidden it…Mrs. Quartam could still be alive today. But we messed up. We left the scene of the crime intact and locked the door so no one could get in. We could not let anyone—not even the police or Amber—know about that night’s happenings. And now, because of things we never had wanted to happen, the teachers thought we were the prime suspects? This was not fair! “
You were lucky your father hadn’t heard of this, young man, but I’m afraid that’ll have to cease!” commanded Dr. Light.
“Get ‘em, cops!” shouted Olimar, blowing the whistle in his space helmet. (Oxygen is poisonous to those from Hocotate. No joke. I saw one suffocate when I was still residing in a Superflat City hospital.) Four police officers busted themselves out of a cabinet and did their things, two holding us at gunpoint and telling us to raise our hands, and two of them handcuffing us, escorting us out the nearest doors and into the nearby police cars. Professor Oak picked up the phone in the laboratory. And then there was the announcement:
“Code Red!! Code Red!!”
Father’s voice.
And little did I know that the anonymous tipper would be the same person who was sending us the notes.
“So, um, after a-all these n-notes…who do you think it is, A-A-Amber?” asked Ness, who seemed pretty nervous. “T-T-The s-stalker, fuzzy pickles.” I figured that now was the time to confront him about his nervousness around me. After all, there has to be some sort of explanation! He was never like this before that fateful day!
“I think the question here is why you’re acting so weird!” I replied, pretending I was ignoring everything he just said. “Also, where’s Mr. Game?” We were in the library: a dump nobody used, empty bookshelves and broken tables and chairs scattered across an extremely dirty tile floor. (I heard someone hosted a science project on Beedril once, and that’s how the floor got that way. Even the janitor doesn’t dare to go into here. So with that logic, why are me and Ness here?) The grey, puke yellow walls were fading and dented, the lights barely worked (if they even worked at all), and it made me think of the outside of my house on the inside, but abandoned for a few years, too.
“I-I’m not, A-Amber! Just …scared, that’s a-all.” answered Ness, fidgeting with his hands and refusing to look me into my eyes. And then I heard it yet again: Fuzzy pickles! I didn’t buy that answer for a second! I mean, taking previous times into consideration, what Ness had answered with was nothing close to what I was expecting! …Or was it just not the answer I wanted to hear? But Ness has never lied to me, and I don’t see him lying to me in the future, so I reluctantly believed him. He did seem pretty believable, now that I think about it. But I didn’t know that later, I would find Ness actually did lie to me. And later, I would find myself admitting to something I keep in denial.
“…Okay, okay, you’re scared. That, I can believe. …Maybe it’s Paula?” I suggested. “After all, she did bully Mr. Game really bad last week. I can see her doing it again.”
“Whew…No, it can’t be. T-They said last week, he had trouble with a bully, fuzzy pickles. And that’s not Paula’s writing, anyway; Paula’s is kinda like this.” Ness passed me a drawing from his pocket. It was pretty well done for a second grader, actually, a drawing of Ness and Paula at the movies, eating popcorn and laughing with each other, and at the bottom, it read:
ya, thats us @ the cineplex. do u think youll b able 2 go @ 6 2-nite? ask ur mum. PS: pls, dont say fuzzy pickles or do that weird shffl thing w/ ur hands or that psi thing @ all.
But… whew? Why whew? Was Ness hiding something from me?! I felt like he was… but then again, I might be hiding something from him. Or maybe it was that I hadn’t asked him about why fuzzy pickles are important enough to interrupt a conversation yet, even though I had yet to find out the reason would make me guilty for that entire day. I handed the sheet back to Ness, surprised of what I had just seen.
“Wow, well that’s a shade of grey I’ve never seen of her. How many does she have, fifty?” I stated.
“It’s from second grade, fuzzy pickles. I don’t know what was going through her head when she did that. I think she wanted to have a date or something! Fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness, folding it up quickly and shoving it deep into his pocket. His voice had an excited, quicker, higher pitch to it when he mentioned the whole date thing. I started to raise suspicions, considering his nervousness from before.
“Does this have anything to do with us?”I asked. “Because I think it does…Are you tryin’ to say something here?!” I was starting to assume weird things that would never happen. Ness took a while to answer, either not noticing… or pretending not to notice.
“…N-No! Fuzzy pickles. No no no. N-Not at a-a-all!” replied Ness in a nervous stutter. But I didn’t believe him. And then an announcement went through the entire school, Mr. Watch behind the intercom:
“Code Red!! Code Red!!”
Oh, Arceus. It can’t be the stalker! They’re gonna try us on Wednesday! I ran to the light switch and shut it off, dragging Ness across the room by his arm and pushing him violently into a cabinet. He flinched, before falling to the ground and laying there for a while. I jumped into the closet as well, before closing the door and locking it. It was a weak and rusty lock, like someone’s used it a billion times before. This place is the school’s disgrace…
“What did you do THAT for, Amber?! We could’ve caught our stalker!” asked Ness once he came back to his senses, clearly annoyed. “Fuzzy pickles!” He slowly got back up onto his knees, dusting himself off before getting up on his feet and making a fist at me.
“Hey! It’s not the stalker! They’re gonna try us on Wednesday, remember? It’s Monday! What part of that don’t you understand?! And what’s up with you and fuzzy pickles, anyway?” I reminded him, scolding him in the process…well, technically. Ness didn’t really do anything.
“Nothing. Not right now. Fuzzy pickles. Whatever. I wonder what they’re so worried about, fuzzy pickles?” he asked me. He looked down at the floor of the rotting cabinet, the wood splintering enough to trip someone.
“Yeah, I wonder too. You think?” I replied. “Thanks, Captain—”Another announcement came over the intercom, overpowering my voice by a long stretch. It was Mr. Watch again, only this time, he sounded very angry. And when I say angry, I mean p—nope, sorry. Ness has corrected me countless times on my swearing. But, like, Mr. Watch was shouting into the intercom at the top of his lungs!
“You’re good to go! The code red has been lifted! Amber Tzaziki and Ness…uh…I CAN’T READ THIS! ARCEUSDAMMIT, SECRETARIES!! …Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, let’s forget I ever said that! But continuing on, get your butts to the office RIGHT NOW!! I have some very urgent news for you!”
“Geez, I wonder what he’s so p—”
“Heyheyheyhey! No swearing! How many times do I have to tell you, fuzzy pickles? …I just don’t get why the secretaries can’t spell Michelin for their lives. Can’t they hear, fuzzy pickles? Ness Michelin. Michelin. M-i-c-h-e-l-i-n.” Ness cut me off there, ranting about his last name for a little bit.
“Heh heh, yeah, I know! Let’s not go there. I think we should… well, we better get on our way before Mr. Watch flips. Or else he’ll flip.” I said, trying to open the cabinet but failing to do so. The lock had jammed shut, like the lock on one of the bathroom stalls at I think it was Dana Beeswax.
“Well, thanks, Captain Obvious! Amber, we’re stuck. Looks like he’ll flip, fuzzy pickles.”precautioned Ness. “Right now, fuzzy pickles, I wish I were in a romance movie and not here…” He took off his cap, and started to play with it in his hands. He actually looked pretty cute when he didn’t have his hat on. Wait! Did I really just say that?! Ignore it! Ignore it! I said, no Pringles! Pretend I never said that thing about Ness being cute! …But I do have to say, I’d think his hair would be messier under that hat. It was neatly combed to the right side, with spikes sticking out of the end.
“Well then, who said I couldn’t kick down the door? There’s enough space in here, and no one even uses this place anymore! I mean, did you see the cobwebs when we got in here?” I exclaimed, thrusting my leg through the poorly kept wood door and shattering it into splinters, as well as launching the lock across the tiny room and into a whatever-the-Nether-that-is puddle. Some of it fell onto Ness, and he started swatting at his face before answering.
“Yes, yes I did! You just knocked one into me!” We ran out of the library and off towards the main office, and Ness was screaming Fuzzy pickles! the entire way. (You don’t know how much I wanted to either yell at him to shut up or straight up punch him.) We were in a hurry, well, of course we’d be! Mr. Watch wanted to see me in the office ASAP, and as the biological daddy of my precious Mr. Game, I respected him and didn’t wanna disregard that! Also, because Mr. Watch is the principal of the Academy for the Interspectacular and the Dark, I had a feeling whatever he’s gonna say is important. The lobby was a nice, big, glass area like the rest of the school, with beautiful lighting and decorations meant to fool you into thinking you’re in a daydream. Actually, the first time I was the lobby with Mr. Game and Ness, I thought I was in a world where things were actually going our way! In that fantasy, I was on a vibrant, emerald hill, with amazing multicoloured flowers. Whispy Woods stood tall and proud at the very top, dropping apples every now and then that tasted like Perfect Apples from Nookville. The sky was a deep, bold purple, and the snow white stars were so bright, you’d think you were in a Photoshop image! And on that hill with me was Ness. Just Ness. Not even Mr. Game was there. We chatted for a while about school and Mr. Game and homework and stuff, and then Ness told me a secret. Then, I told him a secret, and after that, we started to embrace each other and…Hold on! Sorry about that! I lost myself there for a bit. Hopefully, I didn’t say anything too personal. You won’t tell anyone if I did, right? ‘Cause I think I did. Anyway, it was a big open area, and the floor was patterned with what looked like a stained glass mural of all the staff, Interspectaculars on one side and Darks on the other. It made me feel like I was back home on Earth, in my room, where all my video games sat collecting dust and waiting patiently for me to play them once more. Every now and then I wonder whether my house is still there. When we arrived, we were met with a very angry Mr. Watch, Dr. Light, Professor Oak, and Olimar. Classical chef’s hat, brown Luigi-like mustache, a skinny build with an always dirty apron, Quartasian features—that’s Mr. Watch. They seemed to be having their own side discussion, before Mr. Watch noticed us there. His signature apron was messier than usual, so I assumed he was either really busy at the cafeteria, or it was just a bad day in the teaching department, even though it looked more like he had spilt a lot of water on himself. Mr. Watch teaches home economics, his specialty (obviously) being cooking. I’ve heard rumors that he was a judge on a cooking competition show before he met Mrs. Game. Recently, I’ve seen Mr. Game watching reruns of the show because he’s only had one visit with his parents since they escape the hypnotization. It makes me feel absolutely terrible that I’m not doing more to unite the Game and Watches.
“I’m simply appalled at my son’s behaviour! Why—Oh, my goodness! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there!” said Mr. Watch, turning to me after talking to Professor Oak. He sounded like he had been crying for a while. His fists tensed up, and he hastily handed Olimar his cooking pan, accidentally hitting the side of Olimar’s helmet. He flinched for a second and walked back to where he was. Mr. Watch was starting to scare me! Olimar also seemed to be a bit scared of that outburst. “We’ve got some news for you: Mr. Game and Emily Quartam just got arrested.” He seemed very calm, but it scared me at the same time, because it was a mad-type of calm. It reminded me of my sarcasm. It reminded me of earlier today, when Ness played Captain Obvious on me! …Wait a minute. MR. GAME? ARRESTED?! HOW?! Oh Arceus, please tell me this isn’t too, too bad! It’s gotta be a mistake! Mr. Game never breaks the rules!
“Ness, slap me hard across the face and kick me, please. I’ve gotta be sleeping!” I shouted in shock. I hoped I wasn’t starting to look psychotic, but I think I screwed that one up years ago. Why…? Arrested…?! But…
“I will! Fuzzy pickles, do the same to me! I’m sleeping, too, fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness. Ness slapped me and kicked me hard, causing me lots of pain—Thanks, Captain Obvious!—but he seemed to hesitate. Then again, that’s typical Ness for you, but the Ness I’m used to is the Ness that wields a baseball bat in times of peril, unafraid to batter those who stand in his path no matter how close he is to them. I wouldn't have been surprised if Ness had started to just beat me up on the spot. But when it was my turn, I took it a little too far. After all, my old job and my confusion took over me. I had to take everything out on someone! Ness dropped to the ground in pain, hunched over and clutching his pants where people hold their pants after failing a rail grind on a skateboard or landing too hard on their bicycle seat.
“Okay, okay, okay! I’m awake! NEVER do that AGAIN, Amber. You hit me…there!” cried Ness, laughing nervously, but also in pain. He wiped away tears from his eyes and muttered something so quiet it was inaudible. I felt myself sweat pro—pru—Arceusdammit, I can’t pronounce it! I started sweating way more than usual, and I was feeling unusually guilty for hitting Ness. But why have I always been this way around Ness lately?! Saving my life shouldn’t change me this much!
“Same goes for me. You should never hit a girl EVER in your LIFE, Ness, nor should you hit ON one.” I replied. After all, he seemed like the kind of guy who’d make a perfect ladies’ man stereotype. He is obsessed with romance movies. I turned to Mr. Watch, now crying angrily and refusing to look anyone in the eyes. “So Mr. Game lied to me about getting lunch! He must've ditched us to hang out with Emily or something!” I stated.
“He did? But, he’s…He’s never lied to me!” replied Mr. Watch, taken back by the news.
“Yeah. You’ve barely known him for a week, Mr. Watch. I’ve lived with him for two years as his guardian. Anyway, what’d he do?” I asked in a sarcastic tone. But I wasn’t being sarcastic. I was wishing I hadn’t asked, but they were gonna tell me anyway, so… yeah… Yeah. I also kinda wish I hadn’t made that rude comment about Mr. Watch knowing Mr. Game.
“Well, uh, are you aware that Emily Quartam’s parents are dead?” raged Mr. Watch, his voice raising as he spoke. Wait, her parents are dead? That explains why I haven’t seen them since the first day of school. They kinda seemed… c’mon, what was the word… belligerent? No, that wasn’t it. They seemed kinda mean and selfish. Thank Arceus Mr. Watch didn’t hear my comment! But what does that have to do with… Oh Arceus. No. No. NO. This… this can’t… “They died last week, and she’s responsible for it! Oh, and did I mention MY OWN SON?!” screamed Mr. Watch, breaking down onto the floor once again, crying hard while Mrs. Fit ran over and tried to help him keep himself together. Everything went blurry at that point. M…M…Mr. G-G-Game? K-Killed someone? I started getting really dizzy and lightheaded. How…? W-Why?
“N-Ness, w-w-w-why…h-how…killed?” I could barely speak, and I was stumbling around the main office, barely able to keep myself up on my feet. Whoa… falling fast… falling… falling…! “Ness…u-upright…help m-me up—”
………Ugh. Nrrgh…
“You okay? You fainted for an hour or so! School is about to end!” asked Olimar, trying to get me on my feet. He wore an astronaut’s suit, with three small curls of brown hair, elflike ears, and a big nose almost like Mr. Game’s underneath his helmet. His eyes were almost always closed, so I sometimes wondered how Olimar could see where he’s going. Echolocation? Or perhaps just squinting a lot? I tried to get back up slowly, but I was really dizzy, and I stumbled around a lot when I was finally standing, so I sat back down on the bed in the nurse’s office.
“Oh my, Amber! It’s been a while since I saw you last! Are you okay? I’ll get you a glass of water. It should help you with your dizziness. I think you may have had a panic attack, Amber.” reassured Mrs. Fit. She’s the vice principal, and also the gym teacher. Not only that, but since Nurse Joy went on paternity leave, she took over as head nurse. And she owns a business with her husband, Mr. Fit. She’s a busy lady! …Oh, and did I mention she actually cares about how Mr. Game, Ness, and I are doing?
“T-Thanks…I could use it. Why…why did…Mr. Game…?” I was still in extreme shock and disbelief. How could Mr. Game actually kill someone, let alone two people?
“Why did he what?”asked Mrs. Fit.
“Summer, we just found out that Mr. Game and Emily got arrested for killing someone, fuzzy pickles. Two people, actually. I’m shocked at it myself, but I don’t believe they’re at fault for it. Fuzzy pickles.” explained Ness. You’re never supposed to call a teacher by their first name, but Mrs. Fit’s the one teacher who can tolerate it. She actually asks people to call her by Summer. “But then again, I wasn’t there. Fuzzy pickles. I don’t know what happened that night, so…” He walked over to me and wrapped his arm around me. It was almost like a hug. It felt really good, actually! Normally, I’m the one in Ness’s place, so to be the one getting comforted was awesome! Maybe it was because of Ness in gene—Whoa whoa whoa! What’s gotten into me lately?! Why do I find myself saying weird stuff like that about Ness, and only about Ness? I should ask Mrs. Fit, but I don’t think I’ll get the chance to.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll find out sooner or later. Mr. Game can’t have done it, fuzzy pickles.” he whispered softly.
“Or maybe he did do it. Take a look at this.” said Dr. Light sternly. He handed me a few sheets, and I read them over like I would with a… um… let’s call it a Mr. Stalk-It note. There was some weird stuff on there, but whatever he meant by it, it implicated that he did in fact kill people. And the drawing… I—I can’t even talk about it. I don’t get how Mr. Game could draw something like that.
“N-No… no… WHYYYYYYYYYY?!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, bursting into tears right after. Ness full-on hugged me at this point. My cheeks started to burn; I could feel it, and I was calming down really fast when he hugged me. I started feeling weirdly embarrassed, though, but I don’t get why. I liked it when Ness hugged me. In fact, I almost wanted more. …Wait, WHAT?!
“He never did it. I know it in my heart. But Amber, I—!” I interrupted him, pushing him off me.
“Ness, you what?” I asked him.
“I-I-I, I believe he uh, didn’t do it, fuzzy pickles! A-Amber, please understand!” begged Ness. But I was starting to unravel his facade. Why the Nether would Ness ask me to understand him if I already knew he thought Mr. Game didn’t kill Emily’s parents? It’s pretty easy to understand, anyway. Even for me. And I even recognize I'm an idiot most of the time.
“There’s something else going on, isn’t there? ”I asked him, a suspicious tone in my voice. There was no hiding anymore. Ness knew I would find out sooner or later. “Besides, you’re getting a little too close to me, don’t you think?”
“N-N-No, there’s not anything else going on! F-Fuzzy pickles! I—I think we’re perfectly fine, fuzzy pickles! N-Not too close. Fuzzy pickles, I wouldn’t s-say we’re t-t-too close to e-each other!” stated Ness.
“Are you sure about that, Ness? You’re hiding something, and I can tell. I’m gonna keep barraging you with questions until you tell me,” I half-threatened. “And even then —my past. I still have my laser gun, you know.” Okay, no, I wasn’t gonna shoot Ness, but it seemed like the best way to get answers from him!
“A-Amber, I’m s-s-serious! There’s nothing else—fine. You caught me. Fuzzy pickles. I guess I’ve gotta tell now, don’t I? Amber, you know when I was really nervous, fuzzy pickles? And then I showed you the old picture? When I passed out last night? F-Fuzzy pickles… Amber… I…” said Ness. Did he…? Oh my Arceus. When he was dazed after falling from the Death Egg, when I woke up…he said, Amber, do you l—! He wasn’t dazed at all. He interrupted himself so he wouldn’t spill the beans too early. He was going to say, Amber, do you love me? or something like that. He liked me. I should’ve known! That was why he’s always so eager to see me and Mr. Game—especially me—and why we’ve been nervous around each other lately, like we didn’t want to say the wrong things or something bad would happen, and why Ness never wanted to be home when he didn’t have to be home. He wanted to be around me. I knew there was a change since Ness saved me from falling into the Academy and dying, but I didn’t know how to feel. I’ve always been strong in my choice to stay single —and no, no Pringles, please —they taste disgusting, anyway, but now that was starting to change. In fact, I had been starting to change ever since I had first realized Ness even existed. It… It… D’oh! I can’t get myself to say it!
“I wasn’t coming back to my senses when I interrupted myself, fuzzy pickles. I nearly slipped up before I was ready, Amber. But now, I’m going to force myself to say it. I truly love you, Amber.” I didn’t know how to react. It should be a dream come true, to know that one of your favourite video game characters has a crush on you. To know that they love you wholeheartedly when you have no family yourself. To know they love you not because of what you have, do, or how famous you are…but because you’re who you are and they like that. They’re willing to go out of their way for YOU. Just for YOU. But… I… I just—I’m so messed up! I don’t know how to feel, or what to say! This kid’s my best friend!! I went numb. What was I supposed to do?
“I—I—Ness, I—Please, let me think on this! I’m going home!!” I started bawling as I ran out of the room, through the halls, and to my locker. I felt like the world was ending, like the walls would crush me to pieces if I didn’t make a decision on the spot, but I don’t have any idea why! I wished I had someone to comfort me —but I didn’t. And I ran away from the only person I did have. Was this how Mr. Game felt when he ran away from me? No, he had Emily. This was different. I wondered about whether to go to Mrs. Fit on how to deal with this. But I felt that wasn’t necessary. This time, it’s in my hands. When I opened it (my locker, not my hand), I nearly had a panic attack: Another sticky note. This time, it read this:
Don’t let Ness convince you of Mr. Game’s innocence. None of you are. Mr. Game deserves to die a long, painful death —in JAIL!! You all deserved this. And even better? Your actions 5 minutes ago fell right into my plans. I hope you’re proud of yourself.
I was shocked. Our stalker really hated us. He, or she, was eager for us to die and wanted the worst for us. The last sentence, though…did they mean when I disregarded Ness’s feelings? They were watching us every moment they could!! And Ness must be feeling crushed right now! I mean, after all, he took it upon himself to admit his love for me, and I ignored it because I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t take him up on the offer. I was the one who did that to him, because I only thought about what I was thinking, not what Ness was thinking. And there were those conflicting feelings I had. Part of me wanted to delve into a full-blown relationship with Ness, do some things I would never consider even thinking of, but the other part of me hated everything included in the limited-edition Love bundle. Why was I so messed up at such an important time in my life?! (And how many times did I say I?) But I found another sticky note when I looked in my locker again –a startlingly messy one, this time from a different person. And although I didn’t recognize their writing at first, I’d seen it before. But not on the Stalk-It notes:
K47 News, Channel 47, @5:30pm tonight. The show: Judge Garland. Invite Ness. He needs you right now. Trust me, I know what you’re going through, with the stalker stuff. It’s affected me before, too. It hurts. But hopefully, everything will be okay in the end.
Who wrote that? I don’t know, because they didn’t sign it. What did they write? Can’t tell that either. They should’ve at least taken some time.
“K47 News…” I started muttering the info to myself. “5:30 tonight…Invite Ness…stalker stuff…affected me before…okay in the end.” Whew. That was a chore. But they seemed to have important information that would be useful. We’d have to watch that TV thing. And then I realized: Mrs. Fit’s dead sister was stalked. That’s how she died. The writing even looked like Mrs. Fit’s! She always keeps an eye out for us. But although I didn’t know it at first…the stalker would turn out to be someone we knew all too well. And then I got a lightbulb. I knew Ness’s locker combination—actually, no, I didn’t, but I could pick the lock—so what if I opened it and found another note in there? I raced about 5 steps to his locker and jammed on the lock with a paperclip in my pocket to get it open. Part of my job training from the Eggman Empire stuff was picking locks to get where I needed to go, so I’m used to doing this kind of stuff. Kinda. I forgot. When I (finally) succeeded in my mission, since I’m kinda rusty, I opened the door and found a sticky note from the stalker, as I predicted. I feel like Mr. Stalk-It’s a good nickname for them, or at least a code name for now, so I’ll do just that! This note made me feel just plain awful about even having feelings at all… or even being alive right now:
Ha ha ha! Just like I wanted it to happen! She dismissed your feelings for her own greed! Hope should be little, if any at all; she won’t take you if she said no at first! Serves you right! Go wallow in your shame and defeat, Pickle Boy! Cry to your little—Oh, wait. “Papa” is no more.
How…how could I do this to my best friend? How could the stalker attack Ness like that?! Two weeks ago, Mr. Michelin was killed on a business trip to Threed. No one knows who killed him, except for Mrs. Michelin, who can’t bring herself to say who, and Ness, who found the criminal, who turned out to be that Arceusdamned EGGMAN!! I had enough of this. I found a piece of paper in my pocket, and a pencil in Ness’s locker, so I cleared things up with myself, and hopefully Ness, as well:
Look, don’t take all that too seriously, okay? I just didn’t have the guts to say anything in person. I was unsure when you confided your feelings at first, because honestly, I didn’t know how to react. (You know how messed up I can get.) But now, I’m starting to think we can still be more than friends, like you wanted, because you probably didn’t know this, but... I love you too, Ness. It was like one of those situations when a real-life person has a crush on a video game character that doesn’t exist, but once I found out the truth about the vast worlds humans only know as a hunk of plastic... I don’t even know how I could possibly adjust to Earth’s rules again. I was once one of those people who don’t necessarily enjoy relationships. And please... I don't want this to get in the way of the friendship we already have, but I'll take you up on the offer. Love isn’t something you get every day, especially not in mine.
—Amber
It felt good to clear that up in my mind, especially since I probably wouldn’t get myself to say it out loud…but would it clear Ness’s? I wasn’t sure. I closed the locker and locked the lock with the same paperclip I left on the upper shelf, and then pocketing the notes and running back over to the nurse’s office. I bumped into a few kids, because the bell to go home had just rung —3:30pm, as usual —and I may have even tripped a kid once, but did I care? No. Not at all! Why would I? What mattered to me was telling, or showing Ness my change of heart. I desperately wanted him to understand…but I felt like I screwed up my only chance. When I arrived, Mrs. Fit had just come back into the room with the glass of water, only to see me out of breath, and Ness was crying into the pillow.
"Notice me, senpai!” he cried. It must be from the movies. He then must’ve seen me in the corner of his eye, because he then screamed, “Noooo! Senpai!” and sobbed even harder into the pillow. She scrunched up her face in confusion, and tried her best to take it all in.
“Amber, where were you?” asked Dr. Light. “Mrs. Fit just got back, and she wondered where you’d been.”
“I was…whew…at the…lockers…” I gasped. I wanted to tell Ness about Mr. Stalk-It’s note, but there were teachers around. Would I be able to tell Ness without making it obvious? Mrs. Fit already seemed to know, but how? Did one of us tell her?! It wasn’t me. I swear to Arceus I will kill whoever did tell her! “There was… a note… for you in there, Ness… from…” I walked over to him and handed him both notes from my pocket, the one I wrote and the one the stalker wrote. I winked at him, and whispered. “One’s from Mr. Stalk-It Note. The other’s from me. Mine’s the lined paper one.” I hoped it would work…but I didn’t think it would. I felt so incompetently stupid! Didn’t I care about how other people felt? What does incompetent even mean? He took a while to soak in the notes, crying for a while after he read Mr. Stalk-It’s message, and then when he finished reading my note to himself, he looked up at me. And thankfully, the excited glint in his eyes from earlier were still there, sparkly as ever, seeming to erase the tears on his face from existence.
“…You will? Let’s do it then!” cried Ness, overjoyed. Looks like I was wrong! I felt extremely relieved to know Ness forgives me, and still wants a relationship. Look, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself here, and yes, maybe I was being a bit sappy, but at least everything’s okay in the end.
“Woohoo! You’re actually forgiving me! Should we have dinner at your place tonight? I mean, it’d be a great place to start!” I asked, excitedly, while also slipping in the request from Mrs. Fit. The teachers were still around, so excluding Mrs. Fit, who I’m pretty sure wrote the info note, I couldn’t mention anything by name.
“Yeah! I’d say so myself, fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness. Mrs. Fit was in the background, nodding in approval and thinking about something. “I’d do anything for you, Amber!”
I looked over and saw Professor Oak rolling his eyes, muttering to himself, “Aren’t you kids too young for this stuff?”
“I think the question here is why you’re acting so weird!” I replied, pretending I was ignoring everything he just said. “Also, where’s Mr. Game?” We were in the library: a dump nobody used, empty bookshelves and broken tables and chairs scattered across an extremely dirty tile floor. (I heard someone hosted a science project on Beedril once, and that’s how the floor got that way. Even the janitor doesn’t dare to go into here. So with that logic, why are me and Ness here?) The grey, puke yellow walls were fading and dented, the lights barely worked (if they even worked at all), and it made me think of the outside of my house on the inside, but abandoned for a few years, too.
“I-I’m not, A-Amber! Just …scared, that’s a-all.” answered Ness, fidgeting with his hands and refusing to look me into my eyes. And then I heard it yet again: Fuzzy pickles! I didn’t buy that answer for a second! I mean, taking previous times into consideration, what Ness had answered with was nothing close to what I was expecting! …Or was it just not the answer I wanted to hear? But Ness has never lied to me, and I don’t see him lying to me in the future, so I reluctantly believed him. He did seem pretty believable, now that I think about it. But I didn’t know that later, I would find Ness actually did lie to me. And later, I would find myself admitting to something I keep in denial.
“…Okay, okay, you’re scared. That, I can believe. …Maybe it’s Paula?” I suggested. “After all, she did bully Mr. Game really bad last week. I can see her doing it again.”
“Whew…No, it can’t be. T-They said last week, he had trouble with a bully, fuzzy pickles. And that’s not Paula’s writing, anyway; Paula’s is kinda like this.” Ness passed me a drawing from his pocket. It was pretty well done for a second grader, actually, a drawing of Ness and Paula at the movies, eating popcorn and laughing with each other, and at the bottom, it read:
ya, thats us @ the cineplex. do u think youll b able 2 go @ 6 2-nite? ask ur mum. PS: pls, dont say fuzzy pickles or do that weird shffl thing w/ ur hands or that psi thing @ all.
But… whew? Why whew? Was Ness hiding something from me?! I felt like he was… but then again, I might be hiding something from him. Or maybe it was that I hadn’t asked him about why fuzzy pickles are important enough to interrupt a conversation yet, even though I had yet to find out the reason would make me guilty for that entire day. I handed the sheet back to Ness, surprised of what I had just seen.
“Wow, well that’s a shade of grey I’ve never seen of her. How many does she have, fifty?” I stated.
“It’s from second grade, fuzzy pickles. I don’t know what was going through her head when she did that. I think she wanted to have a date or something! Fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness, folding it up quickly and shoving it deep into his pocket. His voice had an excited, quicker, higher pitch to it when he mentioned the whole date thing. I started to raise suspicions, considering his nervousness from before.
“Does this have anything to do with us?”I asked. “Because I think it does…Are you tryin’ to say something here?!” I was starting to assume weird things that would never happen. Ness took a while to answer, either not noticing… or pretending not to notice.
“…N-No! Fuzzy pickles. No no no. N-Not at a-a-all!” replied Ness in a nervous stutter. But I didn’t believe him. And then an announcement went through the entire school, Mr. Watch behind the intercom:
“Code Red!! Code Red!!”
Oh, Arceus. It can’t be the stalker! They’re gonna try us on Wednesday! I ran to the light switch and shut it off, dragging Ness across the room by his arm and pushing him violently into a cabinet. He flinched, before falling to the ground and laying there for a while. I jumped into the closet as well, before closing the door and locking it. It was a weak and rusty lock, like someone’s used it a billion times before. This place is the school’s disgrace…
“What did you do THAT for, Amber?! We could’ve caught our stalker!” asked Ness once he came back to his senses, clearly annoyed. “Fuzzy pickles!” He slowly got back up onto his knees, dusting himself off before getting up on his feet and making a fist at me.
“Hey! It’s not the stalker! They’re gonna try us on Wednesday, remember? It’s Monday! What part of that don’t you understand?! And what’s up with you and fuzzy pickles, anyway?” I reminded him, scolding him in the process…well, technically. Ness didn’t really do anything.
“Nothing. Not right now. Fuzzy pickles. Whatever. I wonder what they’re so worried about, fuzzy pickles?” he asked me. He looked down at the floor of the rotting cabinet, the wood splintering enough to trip someone.
“Yeah, I wonder too. You think?” I replied. “Thanks, Captain—”Another announcement came over the intercom, overpowering my voice by a long stretch. It was Mr. Watch again, only this time, he sounded very angry. And when I say angry, I mean p—nope, sorry. Ness has corrected me countless times on my swearing. But, like, Mr. Watch was shouting into the intercom at the top of his lungs!
“You’re good to go! The code red has been lifted! Amber Tzaziki and Ness…uh…I CAN’T READ THIS! ARCEUSDAMMIT, SECRETARIES!! …Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, let’s forget I ever said that! But continuing on, get your butts to the office RIGHT NOW!! I have some very urgent news for you!”
“Geez, I wonder what he’s so p—”
“Heyheyheyhey! No swearing! How many times do I have to tell you, fuzzy pickles? …I just don’t get why the secretaries can’t spell Michelin for their lives. Can’t they hear, fuzzy pickles? Ness Michelin. Michelin. M-i-c-h-e-l-i-n.” Ness cut me off there, ranting about his last name for a little bit.
“Heh heh, yeah, I know! Let’s not go there. I think we should… well, we better get on our way before Mr. Watch flips. Or else he’ll flip.” I said, trying to open the cabinet but failing to do so. The lock had jammed shut, like the lock on one of the bathroom stalls at I think it was Dana Beeswax.
“Well, thanks, Captain Obvious! Amber, we’re stuck. Looks like he’ll flip, fuzzy pickles.”precautioned Ness. “Right now, fuzzy pickles, I wish I were in a romance movie and not here…” He took off his cap, and started to play with it in his hands. He actually looked pretty cute when he didn’t have his hat on. Wait! Did I really just say that?! Ignore it! Ignore it! I said, no Pringles! Pretend I never said that thing about Ness being cute! …But I do have to say, I’d think his hair would be messier under that hat. It was neatly combed to the right side, with spikes sticking out of the end.
“Well then, who said I couldn’t kick down the door? There’s enough space in here, and no one even uses this place anymore! I mean, did you see the cobwebs when we got in here?” I exclaimed, thrusting my leg through the poorly kept wood door and shattering it into splinters, as well as launching the lock across the tiny room and into a whatever-the-Nether-that-is puddle. Some of it fell onto Ness, and he started swatting at his face before answering.
“Yes, yes I did! You just knocked one into me!” We ran out of the library and off towards the main office, and Ness was screaming Fuzzy pickles! the entire way. (You don’t know how much I wanted to either yell at him to shut up or straight up punch him.) We were in a hurry, well, of course we’d be! Mr. Watch wanted to see me in the office ASAP, and as the biological daddy of my precious Mr. Game, I respected him and didn’t wanna disregard that! Also, because Mr. Watch is the principal of the Academy for the Interspectacular and the Dark, I had a feeling whatever he’s gonna say is important. The lobby was a nice, big, glass area like the rest of the school, with beautiful lighting and decorations meant to fool you into thinking you’re in a daydream. Actually, the first time I was the lobby with Mr. Game and Ness, I thought I was in a world where things were actually going our way! In that fantasy, I was on a vibrant, emerald hill, with amazing multicoloured flowers. Whispy Woods stood tall and proud at the very top, dropping apples every now and then that tasted like Perfect Apples from Nookville. The sky was a deep, bold purple, and the snow white stars were so bright, you’d think you were in a Photoshop image! And on that hill with me was Ness. Just Ness. Not even Mr. Game was there. We chatted for a while about school and Mr. Game and homework and stuff, and then Ness told me a secret. Then, I told him a secret, and after that, we started to embrace each other and…Hold on! Sorry about that! I lost myself there for a bit. Hopefully, I didn’t say anything too personal. You won’t tell anyone if I did, right? ‘Cause I think I did. Anyway, it was a big open area, and the floor was patterned with what looked like a stained glass mural of all the staff, Interspectaculars on one side and Darks on the other. It made me feel like I was back home on Earth, in my room, where all my video games sat collecting dust and waiting patiently for me to play them once more. Every now and then I wonder whether my house is still there. When we arrived, we were met with a very angry Mr. Watch, Dr. Light, Professor Oak, and Olimar. Classical chef’s hat, brown Luigi-like mustache, a skinny build with an always dirty apron, Quartasian features—that’s Mr. Watch. They seemed to be having their own side discussion, before Mr. Watch noticed us there. His signature apron was messier than usual, so I assumed he was either really busy at the cafeteria, or it was just a bad day in the teaching department, even though it looked more like he had spilt a lot of water on himself. Mr. Watch teaches home economics, his specialty (obviously) being cooking. I’ve heard rumors that he was a judge on a cooking competition show before he met Mrs. Game. Recently, I’ve seen Mr. Game watching reruns of the show because he’s only had one visit with his parents since they escape the hypnotization. It makes me feel absolutely terrible that I’m not doing more to unite the Game and Watches.
“I’m simply appalled at my son’s behaviour! Why—Oh, my goodness! I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there!” said Mr. Watch, turning to me after talking to Professor Oak. He sounded like he had been crying for a while. His fists tensed up, and he hastily handed Olimar his cooking pan, accidentally hitting the side of Olimar’s helmet. He flinched for a second and walked back to where he was. Mr. Watch was starting to scare me! Olimar also seemed to be a bit scared of that outburst. “We’ve got some news for you: Mr. Game and Emily Quartam just got arrested.” He seemed very calm, but it scared me at the same time, because it was a mad-type of calm. It reminded me of my sarcasm. It reminded me of earlier today, when Ness played Captain Obvious on me! …Wait a minute. MR. GAME? ARRESTED?! HOW?! Oh Arceus, please tell me this isn’t too, too bad! It’s gotta be a mistake! Mr. Game never breaks the rules!
“Ness, slap me hard across the face and kick me, please. I’ve gotta be sleeping!” I shouted in shock. I hoped I wasn’t starting to look psychotic, but I think I screwed that one up years ago. Why…? Arrested…?! But…
“I will! Fuzzy pickles, do the same to me! I’m sleeping, too, fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness. Ness slapped me and kicked me hard, causing me lots of pain—Thanks, Captain Obvious!—but he seemed to hesitate. Then again, that’s typical Ness for you, but the Ness I’m used to is the Ness that wields a baseball bat in times of peril, unafraid to batter those who stand in his path no matter how close he is to them. I wouldn't have been surprised if Ness had started to just beat me up on the spot. But when it was my turn, I took it a little too far. After all, my old job and my confusion took over me. I had to take everything out on someone! Ness dropped to the ground in pain, hunched over and clutching his pants where people hold their pants after failing a rail grind on a skateboard or landing too hard on their bicycle seat.
“Okay, okay, okay! I’m awake! NEVER do that AGAIN, Amber. You hit me…there!” cried Ness, laughing nervously, but also in pain. He wiped away tears from his eyes and muttered something so quiet it was inaudible. I felt myself sweat pro—pru—Arceusdammit, I can’t pronounce it! I started sweating way more than usual, and I was feeling unusually guilty for hitting Ness. But why have I always been this way around Ness lately?! Saving my life shouldn’t change me this much!
“Same goes for me. You should never hit a girl EVER in your LIFE, Ness, nor should you hit ON one.” I replied. After all, he seemed like the kind of guy who’d make a perfect ladies’ man stereotype. He is obsessed with romance movies. I turned to Mr. Watch, now crying angrily and refusing to look anyone in the eyes. “So Mr. Game lied to me about getting lunch! He must've ditched us to hang out with Emily or something!” I stated.
“He did? But, he’s…He’s never lied to me!” replied Mr. Watch, taken back by the news.
“Yeah. You’ve barely known him for a week, Mr. Watch. I’ve lived with him for two years as his guardian. Anyway, what’d he do?” I asked in a sarcastic tone. But I wasn’t being sarcastic. I was wishing I hadn’t asked, but they were gonna tell me anyway, so… yeah… Yeah. I also kinda wish I hadn’t made that rude comment about Mr. Watch knowing Mr. Game.
“Well, uh, are you aware that Emily Quartam’s parents are dead?” raged Mr. Watch, his voice raising as he spoke. Wait, her parents are dead? That explains why I haven’t seen them since the first day of school. They kinda seemed… c’mon, what was the word… belligerent? No, that wasn’t it. They seemed kinda mean and selfish. Thank Arceus Mr. Watch didn’t hear my comment! But what does that have to do with… Oh Arceus. No. No. NO. This… this can’t… “They died last week, and she’s responsible for it! Oh, and did I mention MY OWN SON?!” screamed Mr. Watch, breaking down onto the floor once again, crying hard while Mrs. Fit ran over and tried to help him keep himself together. Everything went blurry at that point. M…M…Mr. G-G-Game? K-Killed someone? I started getting really dizzy and lightheaded. How…? W-Why?
“N-Ness, w-w-w-why…h-how…killed?” I could barely speak, and I was stumbling around the main office, barely able to keep myself up on my feet. Whoa… falling fast… falling… falling…! “Ness…u-upright…help m-me up—”
………Ugh. Nrrgh…
“You okay? You fainted for an hour or so! School is about to end!” asked Olimar, trying to get me on my feet. He wore an astronaut’s suit, with three small curls of brown hair, elflike ears, and a big nose almost like Mr. Game’s underneath his helmet. His eyes were almost always closed, so I sometimes wondered how Olimar could see where he’s going. Echolocation? Or perhaps just squinting a lot? I tried to get back up slowly, but I was really dizzy, and I stumbled around a lot when I was finally standing, so I sat back down on the bed in the nurse’s office.
“Oh my, Amber! It’s been a while since I saw you last! Are you okay? I’ll get you a glass of water. It should help you with your dizziness. I think you may have had a panic attack, Amber.” reassured Mrs. Fit. She’s the vice principal, and also the gym teacher. Not only that, but since Nurse Joy went on paternity leave, she took over as head nurse. And she owns a business with her husband, Mr. Fit. She’s a busy lady! …Oh, and did I mention she actually cares about how Mr. Game, Ness, and I are doing?
“T-Thanks…I could use it. Why…why did…Mr. Game…?” I was still in extreme shock and disbelief. How could Mr. Game actually kill someone, let alone two people?
“Why did he what?”asked Mrs. Fit.
“Summer, we just found out that Mr. Game and Emily got arrested for killing someone, fuzzy pickles. Two people, actually. I’m shocked at it myself, but I don’t believe they’re at fault for it. Fuzzy pickles.” explained Ness. You’re never supposed to call a teacher by their first name, but Mrs. Fit’s the one teacher who can tolerate it. She actually asks people to call her by Summer. “But then again, I wasn’t there. Fuzzy pickles. I don’t know what happened that night, so…” He walked over to me and wrapped his arm around me. It was almost like a hug. It felt really good, actually! Normally, I’m the one in Ness’s place, so to be the one getting comforted was awesome! Maybe it was because of Ness in gene—Whoa whoa whoa! What’s gotten into me lately?! Why do I find myself saying weird stuff like that about Ness, and only about Ness? I should ask Mrs. Fit, but I don’t think I’ll get the chance to.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll find out sooner or later. Mr. Game can’t have done it, fuzzy pickles.” he whispered softly.
“Or maybe he did do it. Take a look at this.” said Dr. Light sternly. He handed me a few sheets, and I read them over like I would with a… um… let’s call it a Mr. Stalk-It note. There was some weird stuff on there, but whatever he meant by it, it implicated that he did in fact kill people. And the drawing… I—I can’t even talk about it. I don’t get how Mr. Game could draw something like that.
“N-No… no… WHYYYYYYYYYY?!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, bursting into tears right after. Ness full-on hugged me at this point. My cheeks started to burn; I could feel it, and I was calming down really fast when he hugged me. I started feeling weirdly embarrassed, though, but I don’t get why. I liked it when Ness hugged me. In fact, I almost wanted more. …Wait, WHAT?!
“He never did it. I know it in my heart. But Amber, I—!” I interrupted him, pushing him off me.
“Ness, you what?” I asked him.
“I-I-I, I believe he uh, didn’t do it, fuzzy pickles! A-Amber, please understand!” begged Ness. But I was starting to unravel his facade. Why the Nether would Ness ask me to understand him if I already knew he thought Mr. Game didn’t kill Emily’s parents? It’s pretty easy to understand, anyway. Even for me. And I even recognize I'm an idiot most of the time.
“There’s something else going on, isn’t there? ”I asked him, a suspicious tone in my voice. There was no hiding anymore. Ness knew I would find out sooner or later. “Besides, you’re getting a little too close to me, don’t you think?”
“N-N-No, there’s not anything else going on! F-Fuzzy pickles! I—I think we’re perfectly fine, fuzzy pickles! N-Not too close. Fuzzy pickles, I wouldn’t s-say we’re t-t-too close to e-each other!” stated Ness.
“Are you sure about that, Ness? You’re hiding something, and I can tell. I’m gonna keep barraging you with questions until you tell me,” I half-threatened. “And even then —my past. I still have my laser gun, you know.” Okay, no, I wasn’t gonna shoot Ness, but it seemed like the best way to get answers from him!
“A-Amber, I’m s-s-serious! There’s nothing else—fine. You caught me. Fuzzy pickles. I guess I’ve gotta tell now, don’t I? Amber, you know when I was really nervous, fuzzy pickles? And then I showed you the old picture? When I passed out last night? F-Fuzzy pickles… Amber… I…” said Ness. Did he…? Oh my Arceus. When he was dazed after falling from the Death Egg, when I woke up…he said, Amber, do you l—! He wasn’t dazed at all. He interrupted himself so he wouldn’t spill the beans too early. He was going to say, Amber, do you love me? or something like that. He liked me. I should’ve known! That was why he’s always so eager to see me and Mr. Game—especially me—and why we’ve been nervous around each other lately, like we didn’t want to say the wrong things or something bad would happen, and why Ness never wanted to be home when he didn’t have to be home. He wanted to be around me. I knew there was a change since Ness saved me from falling into the Academy and dying, but I didn’t know how to feel. I’ve always been strong in my choice to stay single —and no, no Pringles, please —they taste disgusting, anyway, but now that was starting to change. In fact, I had been starting to change ever since I had first realized Ness even existed. It… It… D’oh! I can’t get myself to say it!
“I wasn’t coming back to my senses when I interrupted myself, fuzzy pickles. I nearly slipped up before I was ready, Amber. But now, I’m going to force myself to say it. I truly love you, Amber.” I didn’t know how to react. It should be a dream come true, to know that one of your favourite video game characters has a crush on you. To know that they love you wholeheartedly when you have no family yourself. To know they love you not because of what you have, do, or how famous you are…but because you’re who you are and they like that. They’re willing to go out of their way for YOU. Just for YOU. But… I… I just—I’m so messed up! I don’t know how to feel, or what to say! This kid’s my best friend!! I went numb. What was I supposed to do?
“I—I—Ness, I—Please, let me think on this! I’m going home!!” I started bawling as I ran out of the room, through the halls, and to my locker. I felt like the world was ending, like the walls would crush me to pieces if I didn’t make a decision on the spot, but I don’t have any idea why! I wished I had someone to comfort me —but I didn’t. And I ran away from the only person I did have. Was this how Mr. Game felt when he ran away from me? No, he had Emily. This was different. I wondered about whether to go to Mrs. Fit on how to deal with this. But I felt that wasn’t necessary. This time, it’s in my hands. When I opened it (my locker, not my hand), I nearly had a panic attack: Another sticky note. This time, it read this:
Don’t let Ness convince you of Mr. Game’s innocence. None of you are. Mr. Game deserves to die a long, painful death —in JAIL!! You all deserved this. And even better? Your actions 5 minutes ago fell right into my plans. I hope you’re proud of yourself.
I was shocked. Our stalker really hated us. He, or she, was eager for us to die and wanted the worst for us. The last sentence, though…did they mean when I disregarded Ness’s feelings? They were watching us every moment they could!! And Ness must be feeling crushed right now! I mean, after all, he took it upon himself to admit his love for me, and I ignored it because I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t take him up on the offer. I was the one who did that to him, because I only thought about what I was thinking, not what Ness was thinking. And there were those conflicting feelings I had. Part of me wanted to delve into a full-blown relationship with Ness, do some things I would never consider even thinking of, but the other part of me hated everything included in the limited-edition Love bundle. Why was I so messed up at such an important time in my life?! (And how many times did I say I?) But I found another sticky note when I looked in my locker again –a startlingly messy one, this time from a different person. And although I didn’t recognize their writing at first, I’d seen it before. But not on the Stalk-It notes:
K47 News, Channel 47, @5:30pm tonight. The show: Judge Garland. Invite Ness. He needs you right now. Trust me, I know what you’re going through, with the stalker stuff. It’s affected me before, too. It hurts. But hopefully, everything will be okay in the end.
Who wrote that? I don’t know, because they didn’t sign it. What did they write? Can’t tell that either. They should’ve at least taken some time.
“K47 News…” I started muttering the info to myself. “5:30 tonight…Invite Ness…stalker stuff…affected me before…okay in the end.” Whew. That was a chore. But they seemed to have important information that would be useful. We’d have to watch that TV thing. And then I realized: Mrs. Fit’s dead sister was stalked. That’s how she died. The writing even looked like Mrs. Fit’s! She always keeps an eye out for us. But although I didn’t know it at first…the stalker would turn out to be someone we knew all too well. And then I got a lightbulb. I knew Ness’s locker combination—actually, no, I didn’t, but I could pick the lock—so what if I opened it and found another note in there? I raced about 5 steps to his locker and jammed on the lock with a paperclip in my pocket to get it open. Part of my job training from the Eggman Empire stuff was picking locks to get where I needed to go, so I’m used to doing this kind of stuff. Kinda. I forgot. When I (finally) succeeded in my mission, since I’m kinda rusty, I opened the door and found a sticky note from the stalker, as I predicted. I feel like Mr. Stalk-It’s a good nickname for them, or at least a code name for now, so I’ll do just that! This note made me feel just plain awful about even having feelings at all… or even being alive right now:
Ha ha ha! Just like I wanted it to happen! She dismissed your feelings for her own greed! Hope should be little, if any at all; she won’t take you if she said no at first! Serves you right! Go wallow in your shame and defeat, Pickle Boy! Cry to your little—Oh, wait. “Papa” is no more.
How…how could I do this to my best friend? How could the stalker attack Ness like that?! Two weeks ago, Mr. Michelin was killed on a business trip to Threed. No one knows who killed him, except for Mrs. Michelin, who can’t bring herself to say who, and Ness, who found the criminal, who turned out to be that Arceusdamned EGGMAN!! I had enough of this. I found a piece of paper in my pocket, and a pencil in Ness’s locker, so I cleared things up with myself, and hopefully Ness, as well:
Look, don’t take all that too seriously, okay? I just didn’t have the guts to say anything in person. I was unsure when you confided your feelings at first, because honestly, I didn’t know how to react. (You know how messed up I can get.) But now, I’m starting to think we can still be more than friends, like you wanted, because you probably didn’t know this, but... I love you too, Ness. It was like one of those situations when a real-life person has a crush on a video game character that doesn’t exist, but once I found out the truth about the vast worlds humans only know as a hunk of plastic... I don’t even know how I could possibly adjust to Earth’s rules again. I was once one of those people who don’t necessarily enjoy relationships. And please... I don't want this to get in the way of the friendship we already have, but I'll take you up on the offer. Love isn’t something you get every day, especially not in mine.
—Amber
It felt good to clear that up in my mind, especially since I probably wouldn’t get myself to say it out loud…but would it clear Ness’s? I wasn’t sure. I closed the locker and locked the lock with the same paperclip I left on the upper shelf, and then pocketing the notes and running back over to the nurse’s office. I bumped into a few kids, because the bell to go home had just rung —3:30pm, as usual —and I may have even tripped a kid once, but did I care? No. Not at all! Why would I? What mattered to me was telling, or showing Ness my change of heart. I desperately wanted him to understand…but I felt like I screwed up my only chance. When I arrived, Mrs. Fit had just come back into the room with the glass of water, only to see me out of breath, and Ness was crying into the pillow.
"Notice me, senpai!” he cried. It must be from the movies. He then must’ve seen me in the corner of his eye, because he then screamed, “Noooo! Senpai!” and sobbed even harder into the pillow. She scrunched up her face in confusion, and tried her best to take it all in.
“Amber, where were you?” asked Dr. Light. “Mrs. Fit just got back, and she wondered where you’d been.”
“I was…whew…at the…lockers…” I gasped. I wanted to tell Ness about Mr. Stalk-It’s note, but there were teachers around. Would I be able to tell Ness without making it obvious? Mrs. Fit already seemed to know, but how? Did one of us tell her?! It wasn’t me. I swear to Arceus I will kill whoever did tell her! “There was… a note… for you in there, Ness… from…” I walked over to him and handed him both notes from my pocket, the one I wrote and the one the stalker wrote. I winked at him, and whispered. “One’s from Mr. Stalk-It Note. The other’s from me. Mine’s the lined paper one.” I hoped it would work…but I didn’t think it would. I felt so incompetently stupid! Didn’t I care about how other people felt? What does incompetent even mean? He took a while to soak in the notes, crying for a while after he read Mr. Stalk-It’s message, and then when he finished reading my note to himself, he looked up at me. And thankfully, the excited glint in his eyes from earlier were still there, sparkly as ever, seeming to erase the tears on his face from existence.
“…You will? Let’s do it then!” cried Ness, overjoyed. Looks like I was wrong! I felt extremely relieved to know Ness forgives me, and still wants a relationship. Look, maybe I’m getting ahead of myself here, and yes, maybe I was being a bit sappy, but at least everything’s okay in the end.
“Woohoo! You’re actually forgiving me! Should we have dinner at your place tonight? I mean, it’d be a great place to start!” I asked, excitedly, while also slipping in the request from Mrs. Fit. The teachers were still around, so excluding Mrs. Fit, who I’m pretty sure wrote the info note, I couldn’t mention anything by name.
“Yeah! I’d say so myself, fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness. Mrs. Fit was in the background, nodding in approval and thinking about something. “I’d do anything for you, Amber!”
I looked over and saw Professor Oak rolling his eyes, muttering to himself, “Aren’t you kids too young for this stuff?”
Being in a police car is a very serious experience. Believe me, I never wanted to play the demo. They have a whole bounty of little buttons on the dashboard at the cop’s disposal, and they basically make you shut up and reflect on your actions during the ride.
“Anything you say can and will be used against you, so if you think you’re innocent, then you best zip it.” warned the cops. They were with the Eagleland Bureau of Investigations, the highest level of law and justice in the country, but also the only law enforcement in Onett, so... I think you understand the basic concept. Other towns have a bigger budget, like Twoson and Nookville, so they get more police than we do, not to mention schools and hospitals. But why was this even happening to me? I remember one of the things Amber said back when she was four and intent on making sure nothing happened to me. The memory reeled back in my mind...
“Mister Silver Eyes Kid, everything happens for a reason. My daddy’s gone, but that let me meet all the good people at Bowser’s Castle. When something bad happens, something good will come after it. Believe me on it, Mister. Believe me on it.” Amber really cared about me back then, but no matter how many times I told her my name, she still referred to me as Mister Silver Eyes Kid. But I am still at a loss of understanding for what good would come out of getting wrongly prosecuted! What good will come from getting killed AGAIN in three days—Wednesday night? What good came from ANYTHING that has happened in the last week and a half?! I have lived an entire LIFE of hardships and tragedies! Homelessness, bullying… Emily leaned into me, noticing my sudden internal emotional outburst.
“Barry, you look very, very stressed. Is there anything I can do to help you?” asked Emily. A lot of people can read when I am feeling troubled, most likely because I tended to cry a lot in my past…and still do.
“No! No there is not! This entire thing is unfair!” I cried. Tears were welling up in eyes. As if my life is not hard enough… this? Who decided that I have to live in pain and sorrow? I feel sick and tired of acting helpless. I must do something to change my own life, but I will never be given the chance now that I am being wrongly prosecuted for something I never did.
“There’s something going on inside you; I’m sure of it. Just try to find that ray of hope waiting for you… okay? Just do that for everyone who cares about you, Barry. Myself included.” she responded. We arrived at the court, a giant golden-brass coloured Rome-palace styled building, but when the cop opened the car door, I found a sticky note on the inside that I had not noticed before:
Ha ha! Looks like you’re busted, huh? I hope you slowly rot and die—in JAIL! They got you and your special girl too! If only you could hear the sweet sound of my laughter right now...
Oh, so now the stalker wants me to rot in jail. Exactly what I needed to feel better about myself. My self-esteem is already low enough as it is, especially after being arrested for something I did not do. I had to make a tough choice as I picked up the note when I got out. Would I tell Emily? Amber, Ness, and I had promised not to tell anyone else, especially if we told the stalker without knowing it. But on the other hand, the note seems as if it were meant for both of us. You and your special girl too… They were talking about both of us! Or were they simply making a reference? It does not matter. The last time I partnered with Emily, however, things had not gone well concerning Amber, so I decided to stay quiet and shoved the note into my invisible back pocket. Besides, if the police overheard, they would make a big (HUGE) deal about it, which is the last thing we want. Drawing attention would make things worse. The Onett courtroom was styled in a similar fashion to a Greek temple, with quartz pillars and marble walls and a roof. We were guided through a long stretch of hallways, making my feet tired as we walked. There was not a lot of closed space, so the harsh winds of a fluctuating storm blew through the gaps whenever it felt like it. I fail to possess a jacket, for Amber cannot make enough money to keep up with our lives, so I was chilled every time a gust passed by. Trudging on through the open hallway was long and tiring, the police officers holding my arms extremely tightly to make sure I did not run off for no reason, but Emily and I were eventually thrown into a closed-space waiting room.
“Take a seat here. We’ll figure you both out on the new Judge Garland at 5:30. Keep still, and DON’T MOVE.” warned the police chief. He pulled out his taser gun and pointed it at me after pushing us onto a red-cushioned bench. Emily flinched. “And if you do…”
“You will electrocute us? Haha, very funny considering I already have a weakened state of life and we both possess many physical hardships,” I countered. It was the truth... for me, anyway. Emily was nowhere close to unhealthy, in terms of physical health, but I wanted to prevent use of a taser gun. Amber showed me what is in one once, but she pressed the trigger by accident, and next thing I knew I was at the hospital in the ICU. “Besides, a taser can kill and then you will be the one in our place. You do not want to lose your job, do you?”
“…Good point. How old are you both?” asked the cop. “You look around fifteen to me.” Fifteen?! I am no taller than four foot six! Emily is only four foot four.
“Thirteen,” Emily and I answered simultaneously. The cop stepped back and sheathed his gun. He seemed surprised at our answers, but we were not about to lie to authorities.
“Okay, then I’ll put away the taser. I’m going for a coffee, so stay put, please. Be lucky I didn’t pin you two to the wall and tranquilize you.” The cop walked away slowly, peeking around before meeting up with other cops and leaving all buddy-buddy with each other. That is completely, one hundred percent professional, slacking off the job to get coffee, and presumably a doughnut, too. I have seen some police members eating them in the shops before.
“Mr. Game, I don’t have any so-called physical hardships! What do you think you’re talking about, that whole Hunger Games incident?” said Emily, annoyed, but also puzzled. “I was completely fine, too! Think before you speak!”
“No! I never meant that remotely! I was covering up for you so they would not be able to shoot you. And by the way, you are welcome.” I replied.
“Understood. But next time, can you let me do the talking?” replied Emily, putting her head down and falling asleep. “I at least know what I’m doing…”
You know, sleep is a good idea, I thought to myself, before doing the same thing and dozing off… or at least what I could call sleep in the complications surrounding me.
Hmmm?
“Get up. It’s court time. We’ve got to prove innocent!” said Emily, nudging me with the back of her hands since we were both handcuffed. “They can’t charge us for something we didn’t do!”
“Nrrgh…fine…I wish I had slept last night…” I replied, forcing myself up onto my feet. As I woke, I started to think about the law system in Eagleland. Eagleland itself is a very developed country, but is also corrupt in terms of law. The police force is constantly either overly paranoid and willing to arrest anyone for a relatively small crime, or rather underwhelming and failing to do its job properly. Not only this, but the court system here is also very different from Edict's and Lamina's, where instead of having defence attorneys and prosecutors, only testimonies from the accused are required and the judge has full power over verdicts. Evidence is rarely used, but when it gets used, it often ends up guaranteeing acquittal for those on the stand. I greatly envy those in Edict and Lamina for having a proper law system. By the time I regained focus on the real world, I was already at the stand, and the handcuffs locked onto my wrists were being removed. I was relieved to get those off. They were starting to be a pain, for they were locked too tightly on my wrists and were cutting off the circulation in my arms. After that was done, Emily had tripped, so I helped her up and scanned the room. The courtroom was a building decorated using mainly maple wood and gold. It reminded me of the romance movies I would occasionally see Ness watching. There was a section closed off at the very front of the room, with polished oak pedestals for the judge and jury. The floor was lined with gold, showing an outline where the benches were and such, as well as an emergency escape route. What I did not understand about this courtroom's setup was that there was a camera crew present. We must have been on the news! I did not believe Amber and Ness would watch this, but I knew inside me that in truth they would. It was not just the news… but rather a brand new show which featured Onett’s biggest court cases. And then the cameras started rolling.
“Welcome, everyone. Thank you for watching the Judge Garland show. Today, we bring you the case of Mr. Barry Game and Watch and Emily Quartam, who have allegedly killed Mr. and Mrs. Quartam…” I was starting to zone out again, thankfully when the judge made her opening statement. It was torture having to listen as the judge exasperated the situation. We never hid the bodies, for… Never mind. We locked the room of which the bodies laid, and tossed the key.
“When did this happen?” the judge asked in a menacing, yet calm tone.
“L-Last Tuesday, ma’am.” I replied timidly. Emily says she does not have it in her to even look at the door. It reminds her of that horrible night. And to put it frankly, this entire thing was time-wasting. Judge Garland started to explain what happened that night to the world. I listened to the horrid description while attempting to fall asleep once again, and her claims that Emily and I used weaponry. ...Excuse me for a moment. Give me a second to comprehend this… Who gave this lady the right to fake the story and twist it to gain ratings?! Nothing like what she is saying ever happened! I have never even used a gun! Emily cleared her throat and bravely interrupted Judge Garland.
“Excuse me, ma’am! Where did you get this story from?” she stated boldly. Secretly, envy burned inside me to know my girlfriend was braver than I. I wished I could be like her in ways.
“Why should I have to tell you?” Judge Garland replied. "You're the murderers! You know this is accurate!" She seemed miffed that Emily would ask such a thing. And speaking of, she spoke up again.
“I know you’re lying to earn an audience and ratings! Let us tell you what really happened that night and everything will be fine.” Emily shot back. The audience clapped fiercely in awe, as if they were congratulating her for her actions. I myself became frightened for her. Could Emily be charged for threatening the judge? Nonsense, I thought. But things took a different turn than I expected.
“Okay then. If you insist on this strongly, then Mr. Game and Watch, what happened on the night in question if your friend here says my version is incorrect?” asked Judge Garland. Oh, shoot. Hopefully, she will not think I am feigning the truth. Oddly, this has been the first instance I have been referred to with both my last names, and I would have corrected her to simply call me by Mr. Game, but this is on TV, in front of a live audience in a courtroom. It is best I stay formal. Besides, I have lost count of how many times the judge has mentioned me, all times with this name.
“We were both sleeping. It was about… midnight when the shots were fired. Two, to be exact. I jumped from my sleeping bag and ran over to Emily’s room—” I was interrupted.
“So you were in the house of the victim at the time.” asked Judge Garland, waiting for a conformation.
“What do you think? You said so yourself, ma’am,” I replied with backtalk. I did not care if I angered the judge. She humiliated us, so I will fire that right back at her. That should have been obvious, anyway. The crowd, um, ooooh-ed shortly after. “Continuing on, I ran to Emily’s room and opened the door, waking her from her slumber. She, too, had heard the shots—” Interrupted. Again.
“Ms. Quartam, is this true?” asked the judge.
“Yes. From where Mr. Game left off, he was using his PokeGear’s flashlight to find his way to my room, although it took him a few tries to get it working. 2009 models… Once I got up, I started to panic, and we headed downstairs to my parents’ room, using the light Mr. Game’s PokeGear lent us.” stated Emily. She was clearly starting to sweat, and she actually managed to finish a sentence without being cut off. Emily wiped her eyes, as she was about to cry, and looked briefly over to me. I was slightly envious of her feat.
“Barry, this is correct?” asked the judge. She was firm on her belief that the two of us were suspicious.
“Correct, ma’am. When we entered the room, I found Mr. Quartam lying on the floor with the gun in his hand, and Mrs. Quartam in the bed, strangely proportioned. Both bodies were unresponsive with fatal injuries by their necks. I attempted to call emergency responders, but I lacked the reception to even make an emergency call.” I answered. I was making myself nauseous describing the story. I nearly had to puke again, but thankfully, the same cop who threatened to taser us had a plastic bag from the doughnut shop. I snatched it from him quickly, opening it up for emergencies.
“…Objection. Show me proof. I don’t believe your story.” demanded the judge, harshly but also calmly. I started to panic. I never filmed the incident. Neither did I shoot photos. We were doomed. Nonetheless, I checked my PokeGear after I put the doughnut bag to use. There was always hope, and no need to lose it, despite my previous experiences with life.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no…Arceus! I will check my PokeGear…” I replied, quietly enough so the guard could hear, but not Judge Garland. I started to feel lightheaded as I looked through my photo gallery. I never use the camera function, so I would need a miracle to happen. And being my unlucky self, I do not get many miracles. When that proved unsuccessful, I flipped. I started to hyperventilate. I figured the only other place to check was my videos, so I did just that, expecting the one video Emily had sent me from a week ago…and then my heart stopped for a moment. I nearly fell to the ground unconscious, but Emily dove in and broke my fall. She helped me up and made sure I regained consciousness before pointing at my PokeGear’s screen, with an enlightened look on her face.
“Barry! L-Look! Y-Y-You...”
I had video proof of the incident.
“Oh my Arceus,”I sighed in relief. “I must have filmed myself by accident when I turned on the flashlight! That must have been why I was experiencing issues with the buttons like Emily said.”An officer walked over and snatched the PokeGear out of my hands, before giving it to the judge. I hoped she would play the right video. National television did not need to see the other video. Amber lost it when she saw that one, and let’s be honest: Re-watching that video made me think of a soap opera. Turning the speaker on max, Judge Garland thankfully played the evidence video, somehow keeping a straight face through it all. And this was how it started. Emily had mentioned it took me a few times to get the flashlight functioning properly:
“Why is the light refusing to turn on?! Arceus, please! Someone will DIE!!…There! It is on! It is on! EMILY!! EMILY QUARTAM!!”
Scanning her face, I realized I knew her from somewhere: Judy Garland, the reporter at the stadium. How did she get a job as a TV judge? I also realized she had a strong British accent. The events of that night played through my head once again, as if it were happening in the moment. I winced, and looked away from the projector screen. I could not bring myself to relive that horrifying experience once again. It brought tears to Emily’s eyes, as she ran over to me and hugged me, nearly knocking me over.
“I-I knew this would happen, Barry. E-E-Everything happens for a r-reason.” she squeaked out, trying her hardest not to cry in front of the judge. It made me remember what four-year old Amber had said. Everything happens for a reason. I guess she was correct the entire time! I have always had faith in her.
“W-Wow, I didn’t think this would be the truth. I-I guess I stereotyped you for the teens w-we usually get in here.” said the judge, seeming to connect with us in the moment. She finally seemed to understand! I almost broke down in the courtroom myself. The gavel slammed fiercely on the podium, as if it were a hammer hammering a nail. "I deem the two of you not guilty for the charges of double murder."
“E-Emily…we…We won! We are innocent!” I exclaimed. I knew I was crying. So did Emily. She, too, was at my level of excitement, and we hugged extensively.
“I—I guess that means we’re back together, Barry. As a real Academy couple.” But then her emotions changed as Judge Garland regained control of the courtroom.
“But Emily, looking at your record here… I believe you’ve already got charges for attempted murder earlier in the year. Three weeks ago, am I right?” I felt a sinking feeling as Emily's eyes widened. It was as if she suddenly realized she was never going to escape her fear of being jailed.
“Y-Yes, ma’am.” replied Emily. Her face had suddenly lost all emotion it had, and her voice had suddenly gone from shaky to remorsefully professional. Who had she tried to kill? Was it her parents? Was it a fellow classmate? And then I remembered: It was when she tried to kill Amber. How could I not recall that time? I was…I was the one who turned her in. I was startled when it happened. I did not believe Emily was capable of such a thing. Amber made me give up my relationship with Emily when she broke the news. She dragged me to the police station, despite being unable to muster the words until we arrived. But she did not know we have reconciled. …And now, she will. Judge Judy Garland started to speak after my reflections. \
“Your boyfriend here got lucky, but I’ll have to sentence you for a year. What you’ve done is unacceptable, especially for someone your age.” confirmed the judge. I was elated that somebody in the public recognized us as a couple, but what would Amber think? I had a feeling I did not need to worry about that. I knew something would happen on that topic that I did not know about. However, I was not concerned with that feeling at all. Emily was being jailed for exerting her strongest angers on Amber! This would lead me to make the worst decision I had ever made in my entire life, especially concerning the next sentence that came from the judge’s mouth.
“You’ll have a bail of 378 Pokos. Thanks for watching Judge Garland, and we’ll see you tomorrow!” The cameras cut from there, and the audience slowly gathered their things and left. I found myself trembling in place from the shock of everything, Emily not being able to celebrate for she was being handcuffed and escorted once again. What had just happened? How did I get scot-free? How did I end up turning the camera on that night? Why did the judge doubt our innocence? And then I started getting lightheaded once again, and dizzy. My breathing became heavier but shorter, and I found I could not focus on anything. How could this... how could I have been so close, yet so far away?
“Anything you say can and will be used against you, so if you think you’re innocent, then you best zip it.” warned the cops. They were with the Eagleland Bureau of Investigations, the highest level of law and justice in the country, but also the only law enforcement in Onett, so... I think you understand the basic concept. Other towns have a bigger budget, like Twoson and Nookville, so they get more police than we do, not to mention schools and hospitals. But why was this even happening to me? I remember one of the things Amber said back when she was four and intent on making sure nothing happened to me. The memory reeled back in my mind...
“Mister Silver Eyes Kid, everything happens for a reason. My daddy’s gone, but that let me meet all the good people at Bowser’s Castle. When something bad happens, something good will come after it. Believe me on it, Mister. Believe me on it.” Amber really cared about me back then, but no matter how many times I told her my name, she still referred to me as Mister Silver Eyes Kid. But I am still at a loss of understanding for what good would come out of getting wrongly prosecuted! What good will come from getting killed AGAIN in three days—Wednesday night? What good came from ANYTHING that has happened in the last week and a half?! I have lived an entire LIFE of hardships and tragedies! Homelessness, bullying… Emily leaned into me, noticing my sudden internal emotional outburst.
“Barry, you look very, very stressed. Is there anything I can do to help you?” asked Emily. A lot of people can read when I am feeling troubled, most likely because I tended to cry a lot in my past…and still do.
“No! No there is not! This entire thing is unfair!” I cried. Tears were welling up in eyes. As if my life is not hard enough… this? Who decided that I have to live in pain and sorrow? I feel sick and tired of acting helpless. I must do something to change my own life, but I will never be given the chance now that I am being wrongly prosecuted for something I never did.
“There’s something going on inside you; I’m sure of it. Just try to find that ray of hope waiting for you… okay? Just do that for everyone who cares about you, Barry. Myself included.” she responded. We arrived at the court, a giant golden-brass coloured Rome-palace styled building, but when the cop opened the car door, I found a sticky note on the inside that I had not noticed before:
Ha ha! Looks like you’re busted, huh? I hope you slowly rot and die—in JAIL! They got you and your special girl too! If only you could hear the sweet sound of my laughter right now...
Oh, so now the stalker wants me to rot in jail. Exactly what I needed to feel better about myself. My self-esteem is already low enough as it is, especially after being arrested for something I did not do. I had to make a tough choice as I picked up the note when I got out. Would I tell Emily? Amber, Ness, and I had promised not to tell anyone else, especially if we told the stalker without knowing it. But on the other hand, the note seems as if it were meant for both of us. You and your special girl too… They were talking about both of us! Or were they simply making a reference? It does not matter. The last time I partnered with Emily, however, things had not gone well concerning Amber, so I decided to stay quiet and shoved the note into my invisible back pocket. Besides, if the police overheard, they would make a big (HUGE) deal about it, which is the last thing we want. Drawing attention would make things worse. The Onett courtroom was styled in a similar fashion to a Greek temple, with quartz pillars and marble walls and a roof. We were guided through a long stretch of hallways, making my feet tired as we walked. There was not a lot of closed space, so the harsh winds of a fluctuating storm blew through the gaps whenever it felt like it. I fail to possess a jacket, for Amber cannot make enough money to keep up with our lives, so I was chilled every time a gust passed by. Trudging on through the open hallway was long and tiring, the police officers holding my arms extremely tightly to make sure I did not run off for no reason, but Emily and I were eventually thrown into a closed-space waiting room.
“Take a seat here. We’ll figure you both out on the new Judge Garland at 5:30. Keep still, and DON’T MOVE.” warned the police chief. He pulled out his taser gun and pointed it at me after pushing us onto a red-cushioned bench. Emily flinched. “And if you do…”
“You will electrocute us? Haha, very funny considering I already have a weakened state of life and we both possess many physical hardships,” I countered. It was the truth... for me, anyway. Emily was nowhere close to unhealthy, in terms of physical health, but I wanted to prevent use of a taser gun. Amber showed me what is in one once, but she pressed the trigger by accident, and next thing I knew I was at the hospital in the ICU. “Besides, a taser can kill and then you will be the one in our place. You do not want to lose your job, do you?”
“…Good point. How old are you both?” asked the cop. “You look around fifteen to me.” Fifteen?! I am no taller than four foot six! Emily is only four foot four.
“Thirteen,” Emily and I answered simultaneously. The cop stepped back and sheathed his gun. He seemed surprised at our answers, but we were not about to lie to authorities.
“Okay, then I’ll put away the taser. I’m going for a coffee, so stay put, please. Be lucky I didn’t pin you two to the wall and tranquilize you.” The cop walked away slowly, peeking around before meeting up with other cops and leaving all buddy-buddy with each other. That is completely, one hundred percent professional, slacking off the job to get coffee, and presumably a doughnut, too. I have seen some police members eating them in the shops before.
“Mr. Game, I don’t have any so-called physical hardships! What do you think you’re talking about, that whole Hunger Games incident?” said Emily, annoyed, but also puzzled. “I was completely fine, too! Think before you speak!”
“No! I never meant that remotely! I was covering up for you so they would not be able to shoot you. And by the way, you are welcome.” I replied.
“Understood. But next time, can you let me do the talking?” replied Emily, putting her head down and falling asleep. “I at least know what I’m doing…”
You know, sleep is a good idea, I thought to myself, before doing the same thing and dozing off… or at least what I could call sleep in the complications surrounding me.
Hmmm?
“Get up. It’s court time. We’ve got to prove innocent!” said Emily, nudging me with the back of her hands since we were both handcuffed. “They can’t charge us for something we didn’t do!”
“Nrrgh…fine…I wish I had slept last night…” I replied, forcing myself up onto my feet. As I woke, I started to think about the law system in Eagleland. Eagleland itself is a very developed country, but is also corrupt in terms of law. The police force is constantly either overly paranoid and willing to arrest anyone for a relatively small crime, or rather underwhelming and failing to do its job properly. Not only this, but the court system here is also very different from Edict's and Lamina's, where instead of having defence attorneys and prosecutors, only testimonies from the accused are required and the judge has full power over verdicts. Evidence is rarely used, but when it gets used, it often ends up guaranteeing acquittal for those on the stand. I greatly envy those in Edict and Lamina for having a proper law system. By the time I regained focus on the real world, I was already at the stand, and the handcuffs locked onto my wrists were being removed. I was relieved to get those off. They were starting to be a pain, for they were locked too tightly on my wrists and were cutting off the circulation in my arms. After that was done, Emily had tripped, so I helped her up and scanned the room. The courtroom was a building decorated using mainly maple wood and gold. It reminded me of the romance movies I would occasionally see Ness watching. There was a section closed off at the very front of the room, with polished oak pedestals for the judge and jury. The floor was lined with gold, showing an outline where the benches were and such, as well as an emergency escape route. What I did not understand about this courtroom's setup was that there was a camera crew present. We must have been on the news! I did not believe Amber and Ness would watch this, but I knew inside me that in truth they would. It was not just the news… but rather a brand new show which featured Onett’s biggest court cases. And then the cameras started rolling.
“Welcome, everyone. Thank you for watching the Judge Garland show. Today, we bring you the case of Mr. Barry Game and Watch and Emily Quartam, who have allegedly killed Mr. and Mrs. Quartam…” I was starting to zone out again, thankfully when the judge made her opening statement. It was torture having to listen as the judge exasperated the situation. We never hid the bodies, for… Never mind. We locked the room of which the bodies laid, and tossed the key.
“When did this happen?” the judge asked in a menacing, yet calm tone.
“L-Last Tuesday, ma’am.” I replied timidly. Emily says she does not have it in her to even look at the door. It reminds her of that horrible night. And to put it frankly, this entire thing was time-wasting. Judge Garland started to explain what happened that night to the world. I listened to the horrid description while attempting to fall asleep once again, and her claims that Emily and I used weaponry. ...Excuse me for a moment. Give me a second to comprehend this… Who gave this lady the right to fake the story and twist it to gain ratings?! Nothing like what she is saying ever happened! I have never even used a gun! Emily cleared her throat and bravely interrupted Judge Garland.
“Excuse me, ma’am! Where did you get this story from?” she stated boldly. Secretly, envy burned inside me to know my girlfriend was braver than I. I wished I could be like her in ways.
“Why should I have to tell you?” Judge Garland replied. "You're the murderers! You know this is accurate!" She seemed miffed that Emily would ask such a thing. And speaking of, she spoke up again.
“I know you’re lying to earn an audience and ratings! Let us tell you what really happened that night and everything will be fine.” Emily shot back. The audience clapped fiercely in awe, as if they were congratulating her for her actions. I myself became frightened for her. Could Emily be charged for threatening the judge? Nonsense, I thought. But things took a different turn than I expected.
“Okay then. If you insist on this strongly, then Mr. Game and Watch, what happened on the night in question if your friend here says my version is incorrect?” asked Judge Garland. Oh, shoot. Hopefully, she will not think I am feigning the truth. Oddly, this has been the first instance I have been referred to with both my last names, and I would have corrected her to simply call me by Mr. Game, but this is on TV, in front of a live audience in a courtroom. It is best I stay formal. Besides, I have lost count of how many times the judge has mentioned me, all times with this name.
“We were both sleeping. It was about… midnight when the shots were fired. Two, to be exact. I jumped from my sleeping bag and ran over to Emily’s room—” I was interrupted.
“So you were in the house of the victim at the time.” asked Judge Garland, waiting for a conformation.
“What do you think? You said so yourself, ma’am,” I replied with backtalk. I did not care if I angered the judge. She humiliated us, so I will fire that right back at her. That should have been obvious, anyway. The crowd, um, ooooh-ed shortly after. “Continuing on, I ran to Emily’s room and opened the door, waking her from her slumber. She, too, had heard the shots—” Interrupted. Again.
“Ms. Quartam, is this true?” asked the judge.
“Yes. From where Mr. Game left off, he was using his PokeGear’s flashlight to find his way to my room, although it took him a few tries to get it working. 2009 models… Once I got up, I started to panic, and we headed downstairs to my parents’ room, using the light Mr. Game’s PokeGear lent us.” stated Emily. She was clearly starting to sweat, and she actually managed to finish a sentence without being cut off. Emily wiped her eyes, as she was about to cry, and looked briefly over to me. I was slightly envious of her feat.
“Barry, this is correct?” asked the judge. She was firm on her belief that the two of us were suspicious.
“Correct, ma’am. When we entered the room, I found Mr. Quartam lying on the floor with the gun in his hand, and Mrs. Quartam in the bed, strangely proportioned. Both bodies were unresponsive with fatal injuries by their necks. I attempted to call emergency responders, but I lacked the reception to even make an emergency call.” I answered. I was making myself nauseous describing the story. I nearly had to puke again, but thankfully, the same cop who threatened to taser us had a plastic bag from the doughnut shop. I snatched it from him quickly, opening it up for emergencies.
“…Objection. Show me proof. I don’t believe your story.” demanded the judge, harshly but also calmly. I started to panic. I never filmed the incident. Neither did I shoot photos. We were doomed. Nonetheless, I checked my PokeGear after I put the doughnut bag to use. There was always hope, and no need to lose it, despite my previous experiences with life.
“Oh no, oh no, oh no…Arceus! I will check my PokeGear…” I replied, quietly enough so the guard could hear, but not Judge Garland. I started to feel lightheaded as I looked through my photo gallery. I never use the camera function, so I would need a miracle to happen. And being my unlucky self, I do not get many miracles. When that proved unsuccessful, I flipped. I started to hyperventilate. I figured the only other place to check was my videos, so I did just that, expecting the one video Emily had sent me from a week ago…and then my heart stopped for a moment. I nearly fell to the ground unconscious, but Emily dove in and broke my fall. She helped me up and made sure I regained consciousness before pointing at my PokeGear’s screen, with an enlightened look on her face.
“Barry! L-Look! Y-Y-You...”
I had video proof of the incident.
“Oh my Arceus,”I sighed in relief. “I must have filmed myself by accident when I turned on the flashlight! That must have been why I was experiencing issues with the buttons like Emily said.”An officer walked over and snatched the PokeGear out of my hands, before giving it to the judge. I hoped she would play the right video. National television did not need to see the other video. Amber lost it when she saw that one, and let’s be honest: Re-watching that video made me think of a soap opera. Turning the speaker on max, Judge Garland thankfully played the evidence video, somehow keeping a straight face through it all. And this was how it started. Emily had mentioned it took me a few times to get the flashlight functioning properly:
“Why is the light refusing to turn on?! Arceus, please! Someone will DIE!!…There! It is on! It is on! EMILY!! EMILY QUARTAM!!”
Scanning her face, I realized I knew her from somewhere: Judy Garland, the reporter at the stadium. How did she get a job as a TV judge? I also realized she had a strong British accent. The events of that night played through my head once again, as if it were happening in the moment. I winced, and looked away from the projector screen. I could not bring myself to relive that horrifying experience once again. It brought tears to Emily’s eyes, as she ran over to me and hugged me, nearly knocking me over.
“I-I knew this would happen, Barry. E-E-Everything happens for a r-reason.” she squeaked out, trying her hardest not to cry in front of the judge. It made me remember what four-year old Amber had said. Everything happens for a reason. I guess she was correct the entire time! I have always had faith in her.
“W-Wow, I didn’t think this would be the truth. I-I guess I stereotyped you for the teens w-we usually get in here.” said the judge, seeming to connect with us in the moment. She finally seemed to understand! I almost broke down in the courtroom myself. The gavel slammed fiercely on the podium, as if it were a hammer hammering a nail. "I deem the two of you not guilty for the charges of double murder."
“E-Emily…we…We won! We are innocent!” I exclaimed. I knew I was crying. So did Emily. She, too, was at my level of excitement, and we hugged extensively.
“I—I guess that means we’re back together, Barry. As a real Academy couple.” But then her emotions changed as Judge Garland regained control of the courtroom.
“But Emily, looking at your record here… I believe you’ve already got charges for attempted murder earlier in the year. Three weeks ago, am I right?” I felt a sinking feeling as Emily's eyes widened. It was as if she suddenly realized she was never going to escape her fear of being jailed.
“Y-Yes, ma’am.” replied Emily. Her face had suddenly lost all emotion it had, and her voice had suddenly gone from shaky to remorsefully professional. Who had she tried to kill? Was it her parents? Was it a fellow classmate? And then I remembered: It was when she tried to kill Amber. How could I not recall that time? I was…I was the one who turned her in. I was startled when it happened. I did not believe Emily was capable of such a thing. Amber made me give up my relationship with Emily when she broke the news. She dragged me to the police station, despite being unable to muster the words until we arrived. But she did not know we have reconciled. …And now, she will. Judge Judy Garland started to speak after my reflections. \
“Your boyfriend here got lucky, but I’ll have to sentence you for a year. What you’ve done is unacceptable, especially for someone your age.” confirmed the judge. I was elated that somebody in the public recognized us as a couple, but what would Amber think? I had a feeling I did not need to worry about that. I knew something would happen on that topic that I did not know about. However, I was not concerned with that feeling at all. Emily was being jailed for exerting her strongest angers on Amber! This would lead me to make the worst decision I had ever made in my entire life, especially concerning the next sentence that came from the judge’s mouth.
“You’ll have a bail of 378 Pokos. Thanks for watching Judge Garland, and we’ll see you tomorrow!” The cameras cut from there, and the audience slowly gathered their things and left. I found myself trembling in place from the shock of everything, Emily not being able to celebrate for she was being handcuffed and escorted once again. What had just happened? How did I get scot-free? How did I end up turning the camera on that night? Why did the judge doubt our innocence? And then I started getting lightheaded once again, and dizzy. My breathing became heavier but shorter, and I found I could not focus on anything. How could this... how could I have been so close, yet so far away?
“So, I guess we should get going, then, if we want to get home in time for dinner! …Right?” I asked. We were still in the nurse’s office, the teachers there watching in absolute awe of our relationship-ism. Or maybe they were. I don’t know. I guess we’re too young for all that stuff, but no one’s gonna stop me! I’ve got my own choices in life! Ness turned to me and leaned his head sideways.
“Uh, why would I say no, fuzzy pickles? Do you think I’m stupid? Why would I turn you down if this is what I wanted for us? Fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness, almost mocking me. Heh. It was pretty funny to hear Ness try to mock my voice. He failed so hard! His voice was cracking from trying to replicate my voice! I started laughing really hard.
“Dude, you sound so stupid when you try to sound like me!” I remarked. Ness looked me in the eyes.
“Stop it, Amber. Do you want this, or not?” asked Ness. I knew he was joking around, but it definitely didn’t seem like it.
“No, I want this! I want this! Maybe we should grab some cafeteria food first. We haven’t had lunch yet, remember?” I said. After all, I was a bit hungry. It only made sense to get some food.
“It’s closed. School’s over, remember? The cafeteria closed at 1:00, like usual, fuzzy pickles. You were passed out until about 3:30, and then you cried somewhere else for about fifteen minutes… You know, we can just go over to my house, like planned, fuzzy pickles! I’ve got a bunch of Doritos waiting for us there, and I picked up some Pringles for if you ever… you know, changed your mind about the whole relationship thing! Fuzzy pickles!” suggested Ness. Because you probably don’t know, I LOVE Doritos! Especially when they’re the nacho cheese kind! Mr. Game has his Wendy’s and cake, like I have my Doritos. I don’t have them often, however, since we have to be cost-efficient most of the time. We have the money, but… Ugh! I need a job… But seriously? Pringles?
“Did you seriously buy Pringles? How long have you had those?” I asked. Sometimes, I can’t even believe the kid… That’s where the whole Pringles-relationship ties come from. Ness was talking about some movie, and something about the main character and Pringles. I forgot everything he said, but then he mentioned Pringles again and made some joke about it. I don’t even remember what it was, but Ness told me to remember by knowing that if you don’t want a relationship, turn down the Pringles or something like that. I’ll have to ask him about the fuzzy pickles, though, because I still can't figure out whether that's from some Japanese romance movie or not.
“Yeah, of course. I’ve had ‘em for about maybe a month. Fuzzy pickles! Whatever. They’re my favourite, too! Let’s get going; I’ll even make popcorn for dinner!” replied Ness, grabbing me by the arm and running out the door towards his house.
“Popcorn? I've only had it once in two years, but it was awesome! That’s gonna be so cool!” I replied as my knees skidded down the halls. It’s never been Ness who drags people by the arm to get somewhere, let alone me. Usually, it’s me dragging them, but this was a first. I barely managed to keep myself upright, since Ness was going so fast, and my legs were flailing in the air as I was dragged off—of course, once I managed to get back up. My arm felt like it was about to dislocate.
“C’mon, what gives?” I cried in pain, trying to grab my shoulder but failing miserably.
“Nothing! I just want to be on time, fuzzy pickles! You know what I mean? Mr. Game’s going to make an appearance in court he shouldn’t be making, fuzzy pickles! We need to know he’s not convicted when he shouldn’t be!” replied Ness, almost laughing as I would have. He seemed to be trying again at mocking my voice. “You know it takes me forty five minutes to get to school from my house! It takes fifteen minutes to even get to your house, Amber, and you’re half an hour away!” Well…I’ve been to Ness’s house before, and it did take a bit to get there, so that seems pretty believable. But about Ness trying to mock me again… He failed again! But I couldn’t laugh. I mean, would you be able to if you’re being dragged down a bunch of roads for half an hour, and you can barely keep up, and your arm feels like it’s about to come out of its socket?
“Ness, I’d laugh at you again for trying to copy my voice, but I can’t right now when you’re dragging me down busy roads and gravel sidewalks!!” I shouted, in a playful but angry way. Ness let go of my arm at that moment, pulling out his house keys from his pocket as I fell to the ground, face-first. We’re here? I guess we arrived while I was screaming at him! That was pretty quick, actually, considering the fact that Ness lives fifteen minutes away from my house, which is half an hour from the school when walking.
“I’ll answer that when we get inside. We’re here!” replied Ness, with a giggle. He helped me up on my feet, and then we walked in the house, hand-in-hand. It felt good to have someone else who cared for me as much as Mr. Game does. It made me feel uplifted. I do everything in my care to make sure those two are healthy, and that kind of thing, so having that same kind of care was amazing. I guess that’s really all that a relationship is: love and care for one another. The first room we encountered on my visit was the living room. There was a giant HDTV placed perfectly in the middle of the room, with a coffee table slightly to the left and down. There was a couch positioned to have a clear view of the TV, lined up inch-exact. The walls were painted a exquisite, beige colour, and there were a few ferns positioned around the room. Personally I found it pretty humid.
“Whoa! How’d you get the TV?!” I asked, in admiration. It was AWESOME! But then again, I do exaggerate a lot. I’ve been to Ness’s house so many times, so to not have noticed the TV really is stupid of me. Maybe the awesome thing is that I don’t have to worry about spending money to eat or watch TV. I didn’t know, though, that I, in fact, should have been worried about spending. I didn’t know what would be to come.
“Oh wow! We were at school for a while! It’s 5:16. I’ll make the popcorn, so help yourself to all the Doritos you want!” stated Ness.
“Really?! DORITOOOOOOS–Oh, sorry! Thanks!” I replied, consuming myself in the heaven that is Doritos. (The official snack of the MLG. My old friends Alexa and Jay on Earth keep me updated.) I got up and grabbed a bag of the Nacho Cheese stuff from the kitchen, and then I walked back and grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table. For an 13-year old whose family is often working, he keeps his house very clean. How does he do it? I only do cleaning because… Sorry. Whether or not I clean my house isn‘t related to Mr. Game. I opened the bag of Doritos and pressed the power button on the TV remote, and the TV turned on to some interesting teen’s anime starring some other quartam boy who manipulates space-time to solve mysteries and travel around Nintendopolis or something like that, called…Whoops, missed it. Another girl followed behind, someone I didn’t recognize, a really punk-ish kid who you’d probably find listening to heavy metal or something. She had black hair with electric blue highlights, and ripped clothes, and she had lots of makeup on. But I also knew that the show’s voice actors were based here in Onett, and I felt like if there was one really bad influence in the world, it would probably be her. Anyway, for some reason, I felt like I knew the first character from somewhere! I think it was when Mr. Game and I were in the internet servers a few years ago, reversing all the device chaos Mr. Game caused. There was a brief space-like portal, and then another one appeared as a quartam boy dressed in fancy white clothing –I think it was a tux --and red highlights flew between the two, and disappearing. The show reminded me of this other TV show from back on Earth. I think it was Scooby-Doo or something like that. I should take more visits out there. I actually wanted to watch it… Nah. Who am I kidding? Obviously, I’m not kidding anything. Wait, how does that make sense? I pressed the numbers 47 into the remote, and shortly afterwards, the channel changed. An episode of Judge Garland was playing, but it was just about over, for the judge was checking out evidence and giving a sentence.
“…Three years in jail for battery and assault. Enjoy your day.” she remarked coldly to the defendant. Enjoy your day? ENJOY YOUR DAY?! People get sentenced and jailed on this show, and that’s what Judge Garland tells them, is to have a nice day?! That’s what I call messed up!
“Hey, Amber, dinner’s ready! I’ll be right in! I just need to make some butter!” called Ness from the kitchen. At this point, I was raking in the Doritos. Like I said before, Doritos are like heaven in a food. Except that I never actually have Doritos on a regular basis. Ness took only a little bit to prepare some butter, and then he walked into the living room. Once he saw the scene, a surprised look took over him. “You ate all the Doritos already? I was hoping you’d save some for me, fuzzy pickles…” muttered Ness, disappointed.
“What do you expect? You know I love Doritos, even though I never have them at home. We don’t ever have much food at home for me and Mr. Game. I feel so bad for him, that this all happens because I can’t find a job that’ll pay me, that there aren’t any facilities to help people like us—except for the Onett Poverty Support or whatever lousy name it had, which Fern got shut down for suspicious activity—and that I can’t really do much to change it all. Anyway, the show’s on, so shut up and sit down!” I replied loudly.
“Okay! Okay! Let’s watch the sparks fly! Fuzzy pickles!” Ness ran over from where he was and sat down, and we shovelled handfuls of popcorn in our faces and the verdict was explained. I started to see why Mr. Game was upset this morning. It must’ve been about Emily. About this. I paid every bit of attention I had to the TV, and didn't lay an eye off the screen even once. Popcorn wasn’t important like Mr. Game was.
“…When did this happen?”asked the judge. She stared down Mr. Game and Emily intently.
“Three weeks ago, on August 22th, ma’am.” replied Emily. So this happened while Mr. Game had run away from me! He knew I would NEVER forgive him! And I don’t! Why would I?
“Wasn’t that when Mr. Game was gone, fuzzy pickles?” asked Ness.
“What do you think? It’d have to be! I would never let Mr. Game do this! I learned my lesson.” I replied, turning my attention briefly to Ness and grabbing more popcorn. Focussing back on the TV, I sat on the velvet blue couch waiting anxiously for the part where Mr. Game proves innocent and Emily’s jailed. But that didn’t happen the way I expected it to. The judge started providing a brief—no, it wasn’t at all—summary of the crime. It was quite graphic, even for someone my age.
“MR. GAME HAD A GUN?! OH MY GOD!!” I screamed. …Whoops. “Oh, uh…I mean, OH MY ARCEUS!!” I corrected.
“Heh heh, I don’t care, Amber. Only Fern does, and she’s already whacked!” replied Ness.
“AND EMILY HAD A KNIFE? NO WONDER!” The easygoing vibe going on through us soon changed, however, when Mr. Game and Emily provided what they said happened.
“…I don’t believe you. Show me proof.” demanded the judge. Mr. Game started to panic. An alarming feeling came through me. No. Mr. Game never uses his camera. Looks like it’s time for me to finally get a job! …I’m not supposed to be happy about that! If you think I am, then change your mind! Ness freaked out, panicked about Mr. Game. I couldn’t say a word. I was too stunned.
“He didn’t film it! He doesn’t use his camera! No! This can’t be!” cried Ness, pulling his hat off and bending it in frustration. I could see that Ness was getting closer and closer to a complete meltdown. Mr. Game was about to be jailed for life, my only, my precious, my Mr. Game. I’d never seen Ness without his hat on. Well, I did, but whatever! He looked good without it. And before I had the chance to tell him, the TV caught my attention.
“Oh my Arceus…” Mr. Game muttered to himself. Even though I had no idea how he meant it, alarm rushed through me. I panicked. My muscles froze up, meaning I couldn’t move. I lost all focus I had on the TV, and reflected on what had just been said. My own Mr. Game’s words. What happened afterwards? I don’t know. What was Ness’s reaction? I couldn’t hear. What else did Mr. Game say? I can’t answer that, either. I was in a strange, multicoloured void, almost like telekinesis effects they use in games. Almost like Sonic CD’s sixth special stage, actually. But that game’s weird. Then, that void started transforming, creating my surroundings as I stumbled, struggling to keep upright. No one was there. I wasn’t at Ness’s house. The only thing I could see was a jail, and Ness and I were being escorted by police, through a grungy, extremely dumpy, dimly lit prison hall. The floor and walling was made of solid stone, which had a brownish-grey colour to it. The lights were burning out and had a yellow glow to them, and the policemen were the only things that looked decent in the room.
“Here he is,” said one of the policemen, showing me the cell Mr. Game was in. I was shocked. Mr. Game looked extremely pained, almost like the 5-year old he once was. He also didn’t look… like his normal self. It was almost like he was dying in there. He looked like he'd lost every characterizing feature of him, and he looked really, really pale. He was also covered in grease and grime, and his clothes were torn. He looked like a homeless person whose conditions were getting to be too much for them. I wanted to get out of whatever situation this was—with Mr. Game in hand.
“Mr. Game, w-w…. Why?” was all I could muster. I was still in shock of Mr. Game’s actions. What I didn't know was whether this was for the killing… or for something else. Somehow, I knew Emily had been put on the death sentence, so that most likely contributed to Mr. Game’s obvious depression. Seeing as there was a really worn-down mirror in the cell, I looked into it, and saw that both Ness and I looked… not too well off. My hair was messy, my torn clothes dirty, and Ness was in his pyjamas, also messy. His ballcap was also gone, and his hair messy as well. We both also wore no shoes. We were very unkempt.
“I-I…I love you, Mr. Game—” The police then pulled Ness and I away from the cell, down the hallway and to the exit. Mr. Game’s face went from depressed to horrified, crying and pleading to the officers, despite his condition.
“NO! AMBER! PLEASE, GET ME—” He sounded tired and very out of breath, and the last I saw of him was Mr. Game falling on his knees and onto the floor, laying unresponsively as if he had died… and he wasn’t breathing. The void was fading away. What was once a dumpy jail was now becoming the void from earlier… and then it started fading even more. The psychedelic backgrounds were disappearing; I felt like I was returning to my senses. My head wasn’t as light anymore, and I regained proper footing. But I wasn’t even standing, as I’d soon realize. I was lying down in the back of a car, a black Mercedes-Bens. Ness was now above me, clapping in my face and snapping.
“Hey! Amber! He won! We’re going!” yelled Ness, trying to wake me up. And it worked. I was now in the back of a car, like I said before, with a girl in her late twenties at the wheel. Grey skin, a short, brown ponytail, blue tank top: I should have recognized Mrs. Fit, but I was still recovering from my episode there. What even happened? Was I dreaming? No, I couldn’t have. I was still awake when it started. The only other conclusion I can come up with is that I got a huge flash of the Pokérus. When non-Pokemon life forms catch it, they get really sick—maybe even gonna die sick. But mine was only a flash… A dream looks like the most possible outcome, at least for now. And as I looked closely at the Mercedes wheel, I remembered it wasn’t a regular wheel, but rather a Wii Wheel. Back on Earth we used those to play Mario Kart. The landscape was awesome! The sun was setting, and today was one of those rare days when the contrast was up, making the colours the brightest and most pure they can get, so the bright orange sky popped from the other surroundings, along with its gradient into midnight blue. We don’t get days like this often. The soft, beige inside of the car set a fancy vibe, and jazz music was playing softly from the speakers. It felt familiar. I knew this setting, somehow. But from where? The dream messed up my memory!
“Amber, it’s nice to see you again! Ness called me and told me about the verdict, and he told me you guys needed a ride to the court!” Mrs. Fit’s voice. How did I not know? Only one person Ness or I knew had a Mercedes! Besides, only one teacher in the school willingly gives away their phone number to the students when asked. I do have Mr. Watch as a contact on my PokeGear, but that’s only because I’m Mr. Game’s legal guardian. Anyway, I’m so glad she was able to give us a ride! Ever since she helped Mr. Game with an injury from the first day of school, she’s given us rides when we need them, and the support of just having someone to talk to. (Asking for money makes me guilty, and besides, who am I to ask people for cash?) I went to her when I first had suspicions of Mr. Game and Emily… you know… being stuff I didn’t want them to be. But I already betrayed Mr. Game on that one, so mad as I may be, I don’t have any right to be mad at Emily.
“Yep, you know it…” I replied. I was groggy, but I wasn’t even sleeping. I must’ve passed out from the sudden adrenaline rush dream thing, but Ness picked up on this. He probably saw the entire thing, and we recently decided on being a couple, so of course Ness would ask me!
“Are you okay? You were acting really weird when they played the video on the show, fuzzy pickles. You were, like, standing up on-end for a while, and then you passed out again, so I carried you into Summer’s car. Fuzzy pickles.” asked Ness. That doesn’t really explain anything, but if Ness was able to tell me why it happened (probably the evidence reveal), then I might be able to answer better. “No—wait, yes—wait, no! Maybe! I don’t know! What did the judge say on the sentence?!” I shouted randomly. I was puzzled on my condition! What if I hurt myself without even knowing it? What if something happened to—no, Ness said Mr. Game won the case. But I don’t care what any of you say; I’m calling BS on that show. That’s not how a court works and you know it! But in that nonsense dream, before I woke up, I was starting to become re-aware of my surroundings, and Mrs. Fit and Ness were talking about me and Mr. Game and something else, which made me really uncomfortable. So I asked, and what I was told next sent me into a rage, even though I had no right to. I never expected to hear it the first time… so being told again? No. I shouldn’t have been mad at all, though.
“Heh heh, about that! I thought it was cute how Ness described the sentencing! The judge referred to Mr. Game as Emily’s boyfriend and he started jumping around a bit! He was ecstatic! They were even hugging each other when they won the case.” recalled Mrs. Fit. She piped up again a few seconds later. “Oh! Amber, I don’t mean to have startled you! I’m sorry. Basically… as far as I’m told, and by the looks of it, I think Mr. Game and Emily are back together, Amber.” My emotions flared up. Arceus, if it had to be anyone that Mr. Game chooses a destiny with, including that punk woman on that anime from earlier, then why Emily? I couldn’t think about that for long, though.
“Summer! This is where it is! There’s the court, fuzzy pickles!” exclaimed Ness. He unbuckled the seatbelt and tried to open the door, sending a worried flash down me.
“Ness! What the Nether are you doing? You’re not gonna jump outta the door, are you?!” I cried. I would NEVER do something like… sorry, that’s a lie. I loved doing that when I was eight. Must’ve been the way I rolled along the cement. Maybe even the way the air felt on my face.
“You guessed it!” replied Ness, successfully unlocking the door and doing a barrel roll to get out of it. That’s actually the best method on getting out safely, but Mrs. Fit slammed on the brakes, getting out immediately and checking to see if he was okay. (I’m not gonna tell her she ran over something when she stopped.)
“Oh, for Arceus’s SAKE, Ness! Do you know how badly you could’ve hurt yourself? Your neck would’ve snapped like a twig! Even my hubby wouldn’t be able to fix you, and he’s a trained nurse!” scolded Mrs. Fit, doing a check on Ness for any injuries.
“Hubby?” I asked in confusion.
“It means husband! ”replied Mrs. Fit, clearly angry at Ness. Oh. Well, I’ve actually never heard that term for husband before. But then again, no one’s ever heard the term Mr. Stalk-It Note for a stalker, now have they? I don’t think so.
“Here, Ness, I’ll help you up,” I offered. “Then we’ll bust into that court and get Mr. Game out of there!”
“No, we won’t be busting in anywhere.” replied Mrs. Fit.
“Hey, I’m sorry, okay? Fuzzy pickles! I wanted to get Mr. Game out of there! So excuse me for my childishness, fuzzy pickles!” said Ness, dusting himself off. I was p—wait, Ness said no swearing. But still, you know exactly what I mean…right?
“Mrs. Fit, will you be coming with us?” I asked.
“I don’t feel like it’s a wise decision if I come. Since I read a book on instinct and fear after my sister died, I’ve been learning to trust my instinct more. I’ll be waiting, though!” declined Mrs. Fit. I almost had to wonder if there was another reason Mrs. Fit was staying behind, and as it turns out, there was. I waited for Ness to regather himself, and then we entered the courtroom. Walking through the huge, expansive halls, I had a sudden urge to yell very distracting things, or perhaps even insult Emily, but I didn’t want to look bad. This was the EBI! I didn‘t want to make ‘em mad! The open gaps of the outer pillars brought a warm, summer-like nostalgia feeling to me. But why a courtroom? Then I remembered: This was the same courtroom where I gained custody of Mr. Game. My feet were starting to tire after 10 minutes, when we eventually arrived. The courtroom where Mr. Game was waiting for us was the first turn right, the third room on the left. Did you know the halls are so big and long that it took me half an hour to get to the courtroom? You’d understand if you lived here! But when we got in, I didn’t expect him to be crying in the corner, pushing away anyone he noticed that came close to him.
“E-E-Emily…A-Amber…n-n-nooooooo…” His voice trailed off with each sentence, as if he were crying for his mom. And technically, he was, since I’m his legal guardian. I felt bad for him all of a sudden, even though I felt awful for Mr. Game the moment I saw him on TV. It’s like he lost one of the most important people to him just like that. And he did. I’m pretty sure Emily got jailed, but I wouldn’t know because of that dream thingy. I wonder if maybe it was an adrenaline rush at the same time…? I’ll just call it an adrenaline dream for now. A dream just seems too out there, and obvious. Plus I was awake.
“Hey, Mr. Game –it’ll be alright. You’ll be okay. You have me.”I whispered softly to Mr. Game, hugging him and stroking his back. I have no idea why, but that seems to work every time. Mr. Game jolted for a second, and then turned to me and spoke.
“A-Amber? Amber! You came! I-I thought y-you would a-a-abandon me f-for my a-actions!” exclaimed Mr. Game, choking on his own tears and crying in happiness. He ran into me and hugged me super-tightly, squeezing the air out of me. Why would he think that? Mr. Game is like my adopted son! And actually, he is, but still! I would never do anything like that! What reason would I have to ditch Mr. Game? I went back into parent mode, taking the day into consideration, and what happened.
“It’s awesome to see you again, Mr. Game! How about we get home and get some dinner?” I said quietly, being careful not to startle Mr. Game. That might make him cry again.
“We even had popcorn, fuzzy pickles!” exclaimed Ness, from behind me.
“Shhh!” I scolded. “Don’t be too loud, Ness! Mr. Game’s already crying!” I paused for a moment, then turned back to Mr. Game.
“We could go to Wendy’s. It’s your favourite place to eat! Besides, you just won a court case, and it’s a high-contrast night tonight! We’ll watch the stars!” I suggested, excitedly but quiet.
“No, I never won! Emily is in jail and it is my fault! And no, no thank you, but I am grateful for the offer!” replied Mr. Game, getting up and wiping his face off before hugging me again. He seemed to be angry at something to do with him, and I can get that. But something that was his fault? I became suspicious. And on the other topic… Mr. Game turns down Wendy’s, his favourite food of the food we can eat? I knew something was up then. We never had breakfast because Ness came over when I didn’t expect him, Mr. Game got arrested before he could get lunch with us (Now I really hate Emily…), and he’s been here for the rest of the day so far, so no dinner as far as I’m aware. My BS meter was getting readings –and yes, I actually made one. I could pull it out and show it to you, if you want!
“But you haven’t eaten all day,” I replied, skeptical. “I mean, at the very least you could have something. I know there’s something in you that—” Mr. Game cut me off. I guess he was sick of me trying to persuade him into doing stuff he didn’t want to do, however weird the situation.
“I am aware, Amber. But at the moment I feel as if I am incapable of eating. The stress and the situation and the guilt –” I stopped him there. Mr. Game had just confirmed my suspicions.
“Guilt?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Amber…I need you to understand. I could not afford to tell you about this. I could not tell anyone. I knew what Mr. Quartam was going to do to himself with the gun. I just could not bring myself to tell Emily. If we could have stopped the use of firearms, then maybe Mrs. Quartam would still be alive today… but it was my fault they died, though I possessed no weapon. I should have taken the gun, destroyed it… and if I told anyone about that Tuesday night, I would have been arrested even earlier. Perhaps even jailed… with no way to escape.” confessed Mr. Game, his voice starting to crack again, and I could see the tears falling from his eyes, those silver little crescent moons. (Hence, I called him Silver Eyes Kid when I was really young and stupid.) Paired with the classic G&W nose, and that tiny smile, he looked like the Quartasian he was born as. (Even though Mr. Game wasn’t smiling. He was crying.) I was surprised by this sudden confession, especially how quick he was to tell the truth! If Mr. Game had told me about what happened, then I wouldn’t have told anyone! Not even Ness! But little did I know that the guilt he had just described would drive Mr. Game to do something I would never forget or forgive.
“Mr. Barry Game and Watch... you should have told me about this earlier! I would’ve done everything to make sure nothing happened to you. Don’t ever be afraid to tell someone about terrible accidents like this.” I assured Mr. Game. Being a kid who’s constantly afraid of being insulted or abused, I kinda get why Mr. Game refrained from confiding in someone. But that should be no reason to keep a secret, even if it’s a huge incident like a murder! Same goes for you! I may as well be teaching you something while you’re following me.
“It is just too much for me to handle. You would understand. You always do, unlike my parents. They have barely known me for a week, and I am their son.” continued Mr. Game, now crying. I then realized that I’d spent way too much time in the Onett Courtroom than I intended.
“Yep. That’s what makes us not-really-moms and best-friend-guardians so good. Anyway, we’re leaving soon. We don’t want to keep Mrs. Fit waiting too long, even though I screwed that one up a while ago!” I stated, lifting Mr. Game up and carrying him outside to the Mercedes. For 72 lbs, he’s not all that heavy… or maybe I’m just stronger than most people these days. Considering I’m not exactly human, I was probably given some qualities most people don’t have. I walked into the parking lot, easily finding Mrs. Fit’s Mercedes since it was one of the only cars in the lot, and I opened the door to the back and placed him down slowly in a seat. But before I got in, I pulled Mrs. Fit aside, privately.
“Um, Mrs. Fit? Can I talk to you outside the car?” I asked.
“Yes, of course! What is it you need, Amber?” replied Mrs. Fit, unbuckling her seatbelt and exiting through the driver-side door. We walked a little bit away from the Mercedes, making sure nobody was nearby. “So, what’s on your mind?”
“Um…what did you mean when you said it was a wise decision not to enter the Onett Courtroom with us?” I asked. I became really suspicious of her when she said that. I was reconsidering my trust in her, all because of one thing she said. Who knows, Mrs. Fit could be a criminal of fraud or something!
“You know…I guess it’s best if I told you, Amber. Remember when I told you about my sister? And how she was killed by a stalker?” said Mrs. Fit. Ahh… I remember Mrs. Fit telling me about that one. She told me about that when I told her that I wasn’t comfortable with Mr. Game and Emily being together, and that since she somehow knew about my private information, I thought she was stalking me. ...Wait a minute! She can’t have killed someone! “Well, it was her fiancé who did it. I watched it happen. But the police think it was me –and so I avoid anywhere with even slight traces of authorities. It’s a good thing I wasn’t married when I was deemed a prime suspect; they have my name as Summer Wii, as opposed to Summer Fit. I also looked very, very different. They have me as a separate person on the computers. Like Mr. Game’s case… I didn’t want to be wrongly prosecuted, Amber.” admitted Mrs. Fit. “But I fear they’ll find me. Some of them know who I am and think I’m dangerous. I’m actually very scared, Amber.” Huh. So it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I guess I jump to conclusions too fast.
“Whew… you had me worried there. But I do have another question. How do you know we’re being stalked?” I asked. Mrs. Fit gave me a stern look. She studied my face carefully.
“I saw you three out by the lockers. You were discussing a stalker of sorts. I don’t let that stuff fly for even a second. As for Judge Garland’s show, I simply had a hunch. That book has really given me a hand in life recently.” she replied, extremely seriously. Geez, I knew Mrs. Fit had experience with stalkers, but she doesn’t have to be that serious about… No. It’s a big deal. If we don’t get this all figured out, we’re all gonna die on Wednesday.
“Okay then. Let’s get going! After all, it’s a school night!” I replied. I was thankful that none of us were involved in anything shady. Mrs. Fit and I walked back to the Mercedes, hard to see in the dark summer night. Yes, it’s only the 13th. Fall’s not until the 21st. She unlocked the car, and I hopped into the middle row of seats with Mr. Game. Ness sat in shotgun. Glancing at the dashboard clock, it’s 8:03pm. Wow! I never expected the verdict to go that long. Or maybe I was just passed out a really long time. Mrs. Fit lives way on the other side of town, too, so that may have something to do with it. …Wait! It’s been exactly 24 hours since the stalker made their first move! Oh my Arceus. Time’s going much, much faster than I want it to! Why won’t it listen?! I need it to stop!
“So how’d it go, Amber?” asked Mrs. Fit, her eyes fixed on the road as she entered the freeway. “I forgot to ask.”
“It went well. I’d say that, at least. They handed Mr. Game over without second thoughts!” I replied, cheerfully. I was excited to have Mr. Game back. He’s my pride and joy, if I’m even allowed to say that myself. He’s not mine, but somewhere in my heart… he is. After all, Mr. Watch and Mrs. Game are head over heels for each other. You’ll never see them apart, unless you’ve been to the Academy at least once. Mrs. Game got some job at a Macy’s. Or was it JC Penny? No, it had to be Old Navy! Dammit, that’s what happens when you lose touch with someone!
“Oh, that’s good! I’ve got to focus right now, so how about I’ll drop Ness off first?” asked Mrs. Fit, happy that Mr. Game was back. That sounded like a good plan to me. After all, it’d give me a chance to tell Mr. Game about Ness and I. Alone.
“Sounds good! I’m going to sleep now, so wake me up when we’re there, okay?” I replied.
“Oh, I will! I will!” laughed Mrs. Fit. The high-contrast night sky was so beautiful. It reminded me of two years ago, back when I still lived on Earth. Back when Mr. Game wasn’t the person he is today. I was just a random kid going to a fine arts school in some random city I don't remember the name of: I think it was Donald Bump or something like that. I had my own home, I had great friends, and I actually had it good with money. I was doing awesome, in other words! But then there was the day: Sometime in November 2012, I was playing Minecraft on my PC. I went to close the app to do something on Microsoft Word, but then my laptop shut off, and I never hit the power button. Then, being bored, I went to play on my Nintendo 3DS, and that had died, too, even though I had it charging all night! Then I got to school, and my friend John’s iPad went weird out of nowhere. I made an impulse decision to see if I could get Siri working (even though it probably wouldn’t have done anything useful), and surprisingly, I did! But it wasn‘t Siri behind the mic. It was what appeared to be a real-life Mr. Game and Watch, who wouldn’t drop any reasons and used what I thought was a hacked Siri voice at the time. I gave him the nickname Mr. Game, and he passed out. I later (somehow) got him out of the iPad through the charger port, and revived him since (again, somehow) I got him into a Game and Watch handheld. Let’s skip a bunch of details: I flew to New York with Jay and Alexa and confronted the DeCodeHacker about how rarely any devices worked anymore. And was I ever surprised to realize I was his technology daughter; his prized creation! Then, I was shown my powers, and Mr. Game revealed himself. He confessed to what he was doing, and wanted me–me!–to help him reverse it. So I did just that, bonding with each other as we did so. But there was one last thing I had to do, or else my bond with Mr. Game would be rendered useless: I had to confront the headmaster of all of this: a lady named Tanya Missouri. She was going to trap Mr. Game into a Game and Watch handheld and set her house on fire, therefore killing Mr. Game. So I took things into my own hands. I went face-to-face with her, as I siphoned electricity to me and covered myself in a thick blanket of it, charging into Tanya and killing her once and for all. I don’t remember what happened after that. But I woke up in a hospital about a week later, having been in a coma. When I visited the Willowbark mall for the first time since the incident… What I saw almost made me cry. Mr. Game was once again living in poverty, homeless and struggling to make money for the things he needed. I assumed he’d been there as long as I was gone, because I had destroyed Tanya’s home after I killed her. But then I had a long, hard think: I could change all this. Something in me made me realize that I couldn’t ignore Mr. Game any longer. I could adopt him, since he had no family, and move to the server the DeCodeHacker found the portal to specifically for all the video game characters from the land of Nintendo of Japan: Nintendopolis. But that would come with drawbacks. I would have to give up everything I ever had here. My friends, my house, my belongings, my money, my childhood. Everything. And that would all be because of Mr. Game. But I didn’t care. I knew what the right choice was to make. I went up to Mr. Game, sitting on a frozen fountain and crying as he stared at the cash inside, told him about my decision, and off we went, making a new start here. I gave up everything for Mr. Game. And it paid off. …I’m going to sleep for a while. It’s getting late. I can tell Mr. Game later about Ness and I.
If I even get the chance to tell him myself.
“Uh, why would I say no, fuzzy pickles? Do you think I’m stupid? Why would I turn you down if this is what I wanted for us? Fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness, almost mocking me. Heh. It was pretty funny to hear Ness try to mock my voice. He failed so hard! His voice was cracking from trying to replicate my voice! I started laughing really hard.
“Dude, you sound so stupid when you try to sound like me!” I remarked. Ness looked me in the eyes.
“Stop it, Amber. Do you want this, or not?” asked Ness. I knew he was joking around, but it definitely didn’t seem like it.
“No, I want this! I want this! Maybe we should grab some cafeteria food first. We haven’t had lunch yet, remember?” I said. After all, I was a bit hungry. It only made sense to get some food.
“It’s closed. School’s over, remember? The cafeteria closed at 1:00, like usual, fuzzy pickles. You were passed out until about 3:30, and then you cried somewhere else for about fifteen minutes… You know, we can just go over to my house, like planned, fuzzy pickles! I’ve got a bunch of Doritos waiting for us there, and I picked up some Pringles for if you ever… you know, changed your mind about the whole relationship thing! Fuzzy pickles!” suggested Ness. Because you probably don’t know, I LOVE Doritos! Especially when they’re the nacho cheese kind! Mr. Game has his Wendy’s and cake, like I have my Doritos. I don’t have them often, however, since we have to be cost-efficient most of the time. We have the money, but… Ugh! I need a job… But seriously? Pringles?
“Did you seriously buy Pringles? How long have you had those?” I asked. Sometimes, I can’t even believe the kid… That’s where the whole Pringles-relationship ties come from. Ness was talking about some movie, and something about the main character and Pringles. I forgot everything he said, but then he mentioned Pringles again and made some joke about it. I don’t even remember what it was, but Ness told me to remember by knowing that if you don’t want a relationship, turn down the Pringles or something like that. I’ll have to ask him about the fuzzy pickles, though, because I still can't figure out whether that's from some Japanese romance movie or not.
“Yeah, of course. I’ve had ‘em for about maybe a month. Fuzzy pickles! Whatever. They’re my favourite, too! Let’s get going; I’ll even make popcorn for dinner!” replied Ness, grabbing me by the arm and running out the door towards his house.
“Popcorn? I've only had it once in two years, but it was awesome! That’s gonna be so cool!” I replied as my knees skidded down the halls. It’s never been Ness who drags people by the arm to get somewhere, let alone me. Usually, it’s me dragging them, but this was a first. I barely managed to keep myself upright, since Ness was going so fast, and my legs were flailing in the air as I was dragged off—of course, once I managed to get back up. My arm felt like it was about to dislocate.
“C’mon, what gives?” I cried in pain, trying to grab my shoulder but failing miserably.
“Nothing! I just want to be on time, fuzzy pickles! You know what I mean? Mr. Game’s going to make an appearance in court he shouldn’t be making, fuzzy pickles! We need to know he’s not convicted when he shouldn’t be!” replied Ness, almost laughing as I would have. He seemed to be trying again at mocking my voice. “You know it takes me forty five minutes to get to school from my house! It takes fifteen minutes to even get to your house, Amber, and you’re half an hour away!” Well…I’ve been to Ness’s house before, and it did take a bit to get there, so that seems pretty believable. But about Ness trying to mock me again… He failed again! But I couldn’t laugh. I mean, would you be able to if you’re being dragged down a bunch of roads for half an hour, and you can barely keep up, and your arm feels like it’s about to come out of its socket?
“Ness, I’d laugh at you again for trying to copy my voice, but I can’t right now when you’re dragging me down busy roads and gravel sidewalks!!” I shouted, in a playful but angry way. Ness let go of my arm at that moment, pulling out his house keys from his pocket as I fell to the ground, face-first. We’re here? I guess we arrived while I was screaming at him! That was pretty quick, actually, considering the fact that Ness lives fifteen minutes away from my house, which is half an hour from the school when walking.
“I’ll answer that when we get inside. We’re here!” replied Ness, with a giggle. He helped me up on my feet, and then we walked in the house, hand-in-hand. It felt good to have someone else who cared for me as much as Mr. Game does. It made me feel uplifted. I do everything in my care to make sure those two are healthy, and that kind of thing, so having that same kind of care was amazing. I guess that’s really all that a relationship is: love and care for one another. The first room we encountered on my visit was the living room. There was a giant HDTV placed perfectly in the middle of the room, with a coffee table slightly to the left and down. There was a couch positioned to have a clear view of the TV, lined up inch-exact. The walls were painted a exquisite, beige colour, and there were a few ferns positioned around the room. Personally I found it pretty humid.
“Whoa! How’d you get the TV?!” I asked, in admiration. It was AWESOME! But then again, I do exaggerate a lot. I’ve been to Ness’s house so many times, so to not have noticed the TV really is stupid of me. Maybe the awesome thing is that I don’t have to worry about spending money to eat or watch TV. I didn’t know, though, that I, in fact, should have been worried about spending. I didn’t know what would be to come.
“Oh wow! We were at school for a while! It’s 5:16. I’ll make the popcorn, so help yourself to all the Doritos you want!” stated Ness.
“Really?! DORITOOOOOOS–Oh, sorry! Thanks!” I replied, consuming myself in the heaven that is Doritos. (The official snack of the MLG. My old friends Alexa and Jay on Earth keep me updated.) I got up and grabbed a bag of the Nacho Cheese stuff from the kitchen, and then I walked back and grabbed the TV remote from the coffee table. For an 13-year old whose family is often working, he keeps his house very clean. How does he do it? I only do cleaning because… Sorry. Whether or not I clean my house isn‘t related to Mr. Game. I opened the bag of Doritos and pressed the power button on the TV remote, and the TV turned on to some interesting teen’s anime starring some other quartam boy who manipulates space-time to solve mysteries and travel around Nintendopolis or something like that, called…Whoops, missed it. Another girl followed behind, someone I didn’t recognize, a really punk-ish kid who you’d probably find listening to heavy metal or something. She had black hair with electric blue highlights, and ripped clothes, and she had lots of makeup on. But I also knew that the show’s voice actors were based here in Onett, and I felt like if there was one really bad influence in the world, it would probably be her. Anyway, for some reason, I felt like I knew the first character from somewhere! I think it was when Mr. Game and I were in the internet servers a few years ago, reversing all the device chaos Mr. Game caused. There was a brief space-like portal, and then another one appeared as a quartam boy dressed in fancy white clothing –I think it was a tux --and red highlights flew between the two, and disappearing. The show reminded me of this other TV show from back on Earth. I think it was Scooby-Doo or something like that. I should take more visits out there. I actually wanted to watch it… Nah. Who am I kidding? Obviously, I’m not kidding anything. Wait, how does that make sense? I pressed the numbers 47 into the remote, and shortly afterwards, the channel changed. An episode of Judge Garland was playing, but it was just about over, for the judge was checking out evidence and giving a sentence.
“…Three years in jail for battery and assault. Enjoy your day.” she remarked coldly to the defendant. Enjoy your day? ENJOY YOUR DAY?! People get sentenced and jailed on this show, and that’s what Judge Garland tells them, is to have a nice day?! That’s what I call messed up!
“Hey, Amber, dinner’s ready! I’ll be right in! I just need to make some butter!” called Ness from the kitchen. At this point, I was raking in the Doritos. Like I said before, Doritos are like heaven in a food. Except that I never actually have Doritos on a regular basis. Ness took only a little bit to prepare some butter, and then he walked into the living room. Once he saw the scene, a surprised look took over him. “You ate all the Doritos already? I was hoping you’d save some for me, fuzzy pickles…” muttered Ness, disappointed.
“What do you expect? You know I love Doritos, even though I never have them at home. We don’t ever have much food at home for me and Mr. Game. I feel so bad for him, that this all happens because I can’t find a job that’ll pay me, that there aren’t any facilities to help people like us—except for the Onett Poverty Support or whatever lousy name it had, which Fern got shut down for suspicious activity—and that I can’t really do much to change it all. Anyway, the show’s on, so shut up and sit down!” I replied loudly.
“Okay! Okay! Let’s watch the sparks fly! Fuzzy pickles!” Ness ran over from where he was and sat down, and we shovelled handfuls of popcorn in our faces and the verdict was explained. I started to see why Mr. Game was upset this morning. It must’ve been about Emily. About this. I paid every bit of attention I had to the TV, and didn't lay an eye off the screen even once. Popcorn wasn’t important like Mr. Game was.
“…When did this happen?”asked the judge. She stared down Mr. Game and Emily intently.
“Three weeks ago, on August 22th, ma’am.” replied Emily. So this happened while Mr. Game had run away from me! He knew I would NEVER forgive him! And I don’t! Why would I?
“Wasn’t that when Mr. Game was gone, fuzzy pickles?” asked Ness.
“What do you think? It’d have to be! I would never let Mr. Game do this! I learned my lesson.” I replied, turning my attention briefly to Ness and grabbing more popcorn. Focussing back on the TV, I sat on the velvet blue couch waiting anxiously for the part where Mr. Game proves innocent and Emily’s jailed. But that didn’t happen the way I expected it to. The judge started providing a brief—no, it wasn’t at all—summary of the crime. It was quite graphic, even for someone my age.
“MR. GAME HAD A GUN?! OH MY GOD!!” I screamed. …Whoops. “Oh, uh…I mean, OH MY ARCEUS!!” I corrected.
“Heh heh, I don’t care, Amber. Only Fern does, and she’s already whacked!” replied Ness.
“AND EMILY HAD A KNIFE? NO WONDER!” The easygoing vibe going on through us soon changed, however, when Mr. Game and Emily provided what they said happened.
“…I don’t believe you. Show me proof.” demanded the judge. Mr. Game started to panic. An alarming feeling came through me. No. Mr. Game never uses his camera. Looks like it’s time for me to finally get a job! …I’m not supposed to be happy about that! If you think I am, then change your mind! Ness freaked out, panicked about Mr. Game. I couldn’t say a word. I was too stunned.
“He didn’t film it! He doesn’t use his camera! No! This can’t be!” cried Ness, pulling his hat off and bending it in frustration. I could see that Ness was getting closer and closer to a complete meltdown. Mr. Game was about to be jailed for life, my only, my precious, my Mr. Game. I’d never seen Ness without his hat on. Well, I did, but whatever! He looked good without it. And before I had the chance to tell him, the TV caught my attention.
“Oh my Arceus…” Mr. Game muttered to himself. Even though I had no idea how he meant it, alarm rushed through me. I panicked. My muscles froze up, meaning I couldn’t move. I lost all focus I had on the TV, and reflected on what had just been said. My own Mr. Game’s words. What happened afterwards? I don’t know. What was Ness’s reaction? I couldn’t hear. What else did Mr. Game say? I can’t answer that, either. I was in a strange, multicoloured void, almost like telekinesis effects they use in games. Almost like Sonic CD’s sixth special stage, actually. But that game’s weird. Then, that void started transforming, creating my surroundings as I stumbled, struggling to keep upright. No one was there. I wasn’t at Ness’s house. The only thing I could see was a jail, and Ness and I were being escorted by police, through a grungy, extremely dumpy, dimly lit prison hall. The floor and walling was made of solid stone, which had a brownish-grey colour to it. The lights were burning out and had a yellow glow to them, and the policemen were the only things that looked decent in the room.
“Here he is,” said one of the policemen, showing me the cell Mr. Game was in. I was shocked. Mr. Game looked extremely pained, almost like the 5-year old he once was. He also didn’t look… like his normal self. It was almost like he was dying in there. He looked like he'd lost every characterizing feature of him, and he looked really, really pale. He was also covered in grease and grime, and his clothes were torn. He looked like a homeless person whose conditions were getting to be too much for them. I wanted to get out of whatever situation this was—with Mr. Game in hand.
“Mr. Game, w-w…. Why?” was all I could muster. I was still in shock of Mr. Game’s actions. What I didn't know was whether this was for the killing… or for something else. Somehow, I knew Emily had been put on the death sentence, so that most likely contributed to Mr. Game’s obvious depression. Seeing as there was a really worn-down mirror in the cell, I looked into it, and saw that both Ness and I looked… not too well off. My hair was messy, my torn clothes dirty, and Ness was in his pyjamas, also messy. His ballcap was also gone, and his hair messy as well. We both also wore no shoes. We were very unkempt.
“I-I…I love you, Mr. Game—” The police then pulled Ness and I away from the cell, down the hallway and to the exit. Mr. Game’s face went from depressed to horrified, crying and pleading to the officers, despite his condition.
“NO! AMBER! PLEASE, GET ME—” He sounded tired and very out of breath, and the last I saw of him was Mr. Game falling on his knees and onto the floor, laying unresponsively as if he had died… and he wasn’t breathing. The void was fading away. What was once a dumpy jail was now becoming the void from earlier… and then it started fading even more. The psychedelic backgrounds were disappearing; I felt like I was returning to my senses. My head wasn’t as light anymore, and I regained proper footing. But I wasn’t even standing, as I’d soon realize. I was lying down in the back of a car, a black Mercedes-Bens. Ness was now above me, clapping in my face and snapping.
“Hey! Amber! He won! We’re going!” yelled Ness, trying to wake me up. And it worked. I was now in the back of a car, like I said before, with a girl in her late twenties at the wheel. Grey skin, a short, brown ponytail, blue tank top: I should have recognized Mrs. Fit, but I was still recovering from my episode there. What even happened? Was I dreaming? No, I couldn’t have. I was still awake when it started. The only other conclusion I can come up with is that I got a huge flash of the Pokérus. When non-Pokemon life forms catch it, they get really sick—maybe even gonna die sick. But mine was only a flash… A dream looks like the most possible outcome, at least for now. And as I looked closely at the Mercedes wheel, I remembered it wasn’t a regular wheel, but rather a Wii Wheel. Back on Earth we used those to play Mario Kart. The landscape was awesome! The sun was setting, and today was one of those rare days when the contrast was up, making the colours the brightest and most pure they can get, so the bright orange sky popped from the other surroundings, along with its gradient into midnight blue. We don’t get days like this often. The soft, beige inside of the car set a fancy vibe, and jazz music was playing softly from the speakers. It felt familiar. I knew this setting, somehow. But from where? The dream messed up my memory!
“Amber, it’s nice to see you again! Ness called me and told me about the verdict, and he told me you guys needed a ride to the court!” Mrs. Fit’s voice. How did I not know? Only one person Ness or I knew had a Mercedes! Besides, only one teacher in the school willingly gives away their phone number to the students when asked. I do have Mr. Watch as a contact on my PokeGear, but that’s only because I’m Mr. Game’s legal guardian. Anyway, I’m so glad she was able to give us a ride! Ever since she helped Mr. Game with an injury from the first day of school, she’s given us rides when we need them, and the support of just having someone to talk to. (Asking for money makes me guilty, and besides, who am I to ask people for cash?) I went to her when I first had suspicions of Mr. Game and Emily… you know… being stuff I didn’t want them to be. But I already betrayed Mr. Game on that one, so mad as I may be, I don’t have any right to be mad at Emily.
“Yep, you know it…” I replied. I was groggy, but I wasn’t even sleeping. I must’ve passed out from the sudden adrenaline rush dream thing, but Ness picked up on this. He probably saw the entire thing, and we recently decided on being a couple, so of course Ness would ask me!
“Are you okay? You were acting really weird when they played the video on the show, fuzzy pickles. You were, like, standing up on-end for a while, and then you passed out again, so I carried you into Summer’s car. Fuzzy pickles.” asked Ness. That doesn’t really explain anything, but if Ness was able to tell me why it happened (probably the evidence reveal), then I might be able to answer better. “No—wait, yes—wait, no! Maybe! I don’t know! What did the judge say on the sentence?!” I shouted randomly. I was puzzled on my condition! What if I hurt myself without even knowing it? What if something happened to—no, Ness said Mr. Game won the case. But I don’t care what any of you say; I’m calling BS on that show. That’s not how a court works and you know it! But in that nonsense dream, before I woke up, I was starting to become re-aware of my surroundings, and Mrs. Fit and Ness were talking about me and Mr. Game and something else, which made me really uncomfortable. So I asked, and what I was told next sent me into a rage, even though I had no right to. I never expected to hear it the first time… so being told again? No. I shouldn’t have been mad at all, though.
“Heh heh, about that! I thought it was cute how Ness described the sentencing! The judge referred to Mr. Game as Emily’s boyfriend and he started jumping around a bit! He was ecstatic! They were even hugging each other when they won the case.” recalled Mrs. Fit. She piped up again a few seconds later. “Oh! Amber, I don’t mean to have startled you! I’m sorry. Basically… as far as I’m told, and by the looks of it, I think Mr. Game and Emily are back together, Amber.” My emotions flared up. Arceus, if it had to be anyone that Mr. Game chooses a destiny with, including that punk woman on that anime from earlier, then why Emily? I couldn’t think about that for long, though.
“Summer! This is where it is! There’s the court, fuzzy pickles!” exclaimed Ness. He unbuckled the seatbelt and tried to open the door, sending a worried flash down me.
“Ness! What the Nether are you doing? You’re not gonna jump outta the door, are you?!” I cried. I would NEVER do something like… sorry, that’s a lie. I loved doing that when I was eight. Must’ve been the way I rolled along the cement. Maybe even the way the air felt on my face.
“You guessed it!” replied Ness, successfully unlocking the door and doing a barrel roll to get out of it. That’s actually the best method on getting out safely, but Mrs. Fit slammed on the brakes, getting out immediately and checking to see if he was okay. (I’m not gonna tell her she ran over something when she stopped.)
“Oh, for Arceus’s SAKE, Ness! Do you know how badly you could’ve hurt yourself? Your neck would’ve snapped like a twig! Even my hubby wouldn’t be able to fix you, and he’s a trained nurse!” scolded Mrs. Fit, doing a check on Ness for any injuries.
“Hubby?” I asked in confusion.
“It means husband! ”replied Mrs. Fit, clearly angry at Ness. Oh. Well, I’ve actually never heard that term for husband before. But then again, no one’s ever heard the term Mr. Stalk-It Note for a stalker, now have they? I don’t think so.
“Here, Ness, I’ll help you up,” I offered. “Then we’ll bust into that court and get Mr. Game out of there!”
“No, we won’t be busting in anywhere.” replied Mrs. Fit.
“Hey, I’m sorry, okay? Fuzzy pickles! I wanted to get Mr. Game out of there! So excuse me for my childishness, fuzzy pickles!” said Ness, dusting himself off. I was p—wait, Ness said no swearing. But still, you know exactly what I mean…right?
“Mrs. Fit, will you be coming with us?” I asked.
“I don’t feel like it’s a wise decision if I come. Since I read a book on instinct and fear after my sister died, I’ve been learning to trust my instinct more. I’ll be waiting, though!” declined Mrs. Fit. I almost had to wonder if there was another reason Mrs. Fit was staying behind, and as it turns out, there was. I waited for Ness to regather himself, and then we entered the courtroom. Walking through the huge, expansive halls, I had a sudden urge to yell very distracting things, or perhaps even insult Emily, but I didn’t want to look bad. This was the EBI! I didn‘t want to make ‘em mad! The open gaps of the outer pillars brought a warm, summer-like nostalgia feeling to me. But why a courtroom? Then I remembered: This was the same courtroom where I gained custody of Mr. Game. My feet were starting to tire after 10 minutes, when we eventually arrived. The courtroom where Mr. Game was waiting for us was the first turn right, the third room on the left. Did you know the halls are so big and long that it took me half an hour to get to the courtroom? You’d understand if you lived here! But when we got in, I didn’t expect him to be crying in the corner, pushing away anyone he noticed that came close to him.
“E-E-Emily…A-Amber…n-n-nooooooo…” His voice trailed off with each sentence, as if he were crying for his mom. And technically, he was, since I’m his legal guardian. I felt bad for him all of a sudden, even though I felt awful for Mr. Game the moment I saw him on TV. It’s like he lost one of the most important people to him just like that. And he did. I’m pretty sure Emily got jailed, but I wouldn’t know because of that dream thingy. I wonder if maybe it was an adrenaline rush at the same time…? I’ll just call it an adrenaline dream for now. A dream just seems too out there, and obvious. Plus I was awake.
“Hey, Mr. Game –it’ll be alright. You’ll be okay. You have me.”I whispered softly to Mr. Game, hugging him and stroking his back. I have no idea why, but that seems to work every time. Mr. Game jolted for a second, and then turned to me and spoke.
“A-Amber? Amber! You came! I-I thought y-you would a-a-abandon me f-for my a-actions!” exclaimed Mr. Game, choking on his own tears and crying in happiness. He ran into me and hugged me super-tightly, squeezing the air out of me. Why would he think that? Mr. Game is like my adopted son! And actually, he is, but still! I would never do anything like that! What reason would I have to ditch Mr. Game? I went back into parent mode, taking the day into consideration, and what happened.
“It’s awesome to see you again, Mr. Game! How about we get home and get some dinner?” I said quietly, being careful not to startle Mr. Game. That might make him cry again.
“We even had popcorn, fuzzy pickles!” exclaimed Ness, from behind me.
“Shhh!” I scolded. “Don’t be too loud, Ness! Mr. Game’s already crying!” I paused for a moment, then turned back to Mr. Game.
“We could go to Wendy’s. It’s your favourite place to eat! Besides, you just won a court case, and it’s a high-contrast night tonight! We’ll watch the stars!” I suggested, excitedly but quiet.
“No, I never won! Emily is in jail and it is my fault! And no, no thank you, but I am grateful for the offer!” replied Mr. Game, getting up and wiping his face off before hugging me again. He seemed to be angry at something to do with him, and I can get that. But something that was his fault? I became suspicious. And on the other topic… Mr. Game turns down Wendy’s, his favourite food of the food we can eat? I knew something was up then. We never had breakfast because Ness came over when I didn’t expect him, Mr. Game got arrested before he could get lunch with us (Now I really hate Emily…), and he’s been here for the rest of the day so far, so no dinner as far as I’m aware. My BS meter was getting readings –and yes, I actually made one. I could pull it out and show it to you, if you want!
“But you haven’t eaten all day,” I replied, skeptical. “I mean, at the very least you could have something. I know there’s something in you that—” Mr. Game cut me off. I guess he was sick of me trying to persuade him into doing stuff he didn’t want to do, however weird the situation.
“I am aware, Amber. But at the moment I feel as if I am incapable of eating. The stress and the situation and the guilt –” I stopped him there. Mr. Game had just confirmed my suspicions.
“Guilt?” I asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”
“Amber…I need you to understand. I could not afford to tell you about this. I could not tell anyone. I knew what Mr. Quartam was going to do to himself with the gun. I just could not bring myself to tell Emily. If we could have stopped the use of firearms, then maybe Mrs. Quartam would still be alive today… but it was my fault they died, though I possessed no weapon. I should have taken the gun, destroyed it… and if I told anyone about that Tuesday night, I would have been arrested even earlier. Perhaps even jailed… with no way to escape.” confessed Mr. Game, his voice starting to crack again, and I could see the tears falling from his eyes, those silver little crescent moons. (Hence, I called him Silver Eyes Kid when I was really young and stupid.) Paired with the classic G&W nose, and that tiny smile, he looked like the Quartasian he was born as. (Even though Mr. Game wasn’t smiling. He was crying.) I was surprised by this sudden confession, especially how quick he was to tell the truth! If Mr. Game had told me about what happened, then I wouldn’t have told anyone! Not even Ness! But little did I know that the guilt he had just described would drive Mr. Game to do something I would never forget or forgive.
“Mr. Barry Game and Watch... you should have told me about this earlier! I would’ve done everything to make sure nothing happened to you. Don’t ever be afraid to tell someone about terrible accidents like this.” I assured Mr. Game. Being a kid who’s constantly afraid of being insulted or abused, I kinda get why Mr. Game refrained from confiding in someone. But that should be no reason to keep a secret, even if it’s a huge incident like a murder! Same goes for you! I may as well be teaching you something while you’re following me.
“It is just too much for me to handle. You would understand. You always do, unlike my parents. They have barely known me for a week, and I am their son.” continued Mr. Game, now crying. I then realized that I’d spent way too much time in the Onett Courtroom than I intended.
“Yep. That’s what makes us not-really-moms and best-friend-guardians so good. Anyway, we’re leaving soon. We don’t want to keep Mrs. Fit waiting too long, even though I screwed that one up a while ago!” I stated, lifting Mr. Game up and carrying him outside to the Mercedes. For 72 lbs, he’s not all that heavy… or maybe I’m just stronger than most people these days. Considering I’m not exactly human, I was probably given some qualities most people don’t have. I walked into the parking lot, easily finding Mrs. Fit’s Mercedes since it was one of the only cars in the lot, and I opened the door to the back and placed him down slowly in a seat. But before I got in, I pulled Mrs. Fit aside, privately.
“Um, Mrs. Fit? Can I talk to you outside the car?” I asked.
“Yes, of course! What is it you need, Amber?” replied Mrs. Fit, unbuckling her seatbelt and exiting through the driver-side door. We walked a little bit away from the Mercedes, making sure nobody was nearby. “So, what’s on your mind?”
“Um…what did you mean when you said it was a wise decision not to enter the Onett Courtroom with us?” I asked. I became really suspicious of her when she said that. I was reconsidering my trust in her, all because of one thing she said. Who knows, Mrs. Fit could be a criminal of fraud or something!
“You know…I guess it’s best if I told you, Amber. Remember when I told you about my sister? And how she was killed by a stalker?” said Mrs. Fit. Ahh… I remember Mrs. Fit telling me about that one. She told me about that when I told her that I wasn’t comfortable with Mr. Game and Emily being together, and that since she somehow knew about my private information, I thought she was stalking me. ...Wait a minute! She can’t have killed someone! “Well, it was her fiancé who did it. I watched it happen. But the police think it was me –and so I avoid anywhere with even slight traces of authorities. It’s a good thing I wasn’t married when I was deemed a prime suspect; they have my name as Summer Wii, as opposed to Summer Fit. I also looked very, very different. They have me as a separate person on the computers. Like Mr. Game’s case… I didn’t want to be wrongly prosecuted, Amber.” admitted Mrs. Fit. “But I fear they’ll find me. Some of them know who I am and think I’m dangerous. I’m actually very scared, Amber.” Huh. So it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. I guess I jump to conclusions too fast.
“Whew… you had me worried there. But I do have another question. How do you know we’re being stalked?” I asked. Mrs. Fit gave me a stern look. She studied my face carefully.
“I saw you three out by the lockers. You were discussing a stalker of sorts. I don’t let that stuff fly for even a second. As for Judge Garland’s show, I simply had a hunch. That book has really given me a hand in life recently.” she replied, extremely seriously. Geez, I knew Mrs. Fit had experience with stalkers, but she doesn’t have to be that serious about… No. It’s a big deal. If we don’t get this all figured out, we’re all gonna die on Wednesday.
“Okay then. Let’s get going! After all, it’s a school night!” I replied. I was thankful that none of us were involved in anything shady. Mrs. Fit and I walked back to the Mercedes, hard to see in the dark summer night. Yes, it’s only the 13th. Fall’s not until the 21st. She unlocked the car, and I hopped into the middle row of seats with Mr. Game. Ness sat in shotgun. Glancing at the dashboard clock, it’s 8:03pm. Wow! I never expected the verdict to go that long. Or maybe I was just passed out a really long time. Mrs. Fit lives way on the other side of town, too, so that may have something to do with it. …Wait! It’s been exactly 24 hours since the stalker made their first move! Oh my Arceus. Time’s going much, much faster than I want it to! Why won’t it listen?! I need it to stop!
“So how’d it go, Amber?” asked Mrs. Fit, her eyes fixed on the road as she entered the freeway. “I forgot to ask.”
“It went well. I’d say that, at least. They handed Mr. Game over without second thoughts!” I replied, cheerfully. I was excited to have Mr. Game back. He’s my pride and joy, if I’m even allowed to say that myself. He’s not mine, but somewhere in my heart… he is. After all, Mr. Watch and Mrs. Game are head over heels for each other. You’ll never see them apart, unless you’ve been to the Academy at least once. Mrs. Game got some job at a Macy’s. Or was it JC Penny? No, it had to be Old Navy! Dammit, that’s what happens when you lose touch with someone!
“Oh, that’s good! I’ve got to focus right now, so how about I’ll drop Ness off first?” asked Mrs. Fit, happy that Mr. Game was back. That sounded like a good plan to me. After all, it’d give me a chance to tell Mr. Game about Ness and I. Alone.
“Sounds good! I’m going to sleep now, so wake me up when we’re there, okay?” I replied.
“Oh, I will! I will!” laughed Mrs. Fit. The high-contrast night sky was so beautiful. It reminded me of two years ago, back when I still lived on Earth. Back when Mr. Game wasn’t the person he is today. I was just a random kid going to a fine arts school in some random city I don't remember the name of: I think it was Donald Bump or something like that. I had my own home, I had great friends, and I actually had it good with money. I was doing awesome, in other words! But then there was the day: Sometime in November 2012, I was playing Minecraft on my PC. I went to close the app to do something on Microsoft Word, but then my laptop shut off, and I never hit the power button. Then, being bored, I went to play on my Nintendo 3DS, and that had died, too, even though I had it charging all night! Then I got to school, and my friend John’s iPad went weird out of nowhere. I made an impulse decision to see if I could get Siri working (even though it probably wouldn’t have done anything useful), and surprisingly, I did! But it wasn‘t Siri behind the mic. It was what appeared to be a real-life Mr. Game and Watch, who wouldn’t drop any reasons and used what I thought was a hacked Siri voice at the time. I gave him the nickname Mr. Game, and he passed out. I later (somehow) got him out of the iPad through the charger port, and revived him since (again, somehow) I got him into a Game and Watch handheld. Let’s skip a bunch of details: I flew to New York with Jay and Alexa and confronted the DeCodeHacker about how rarely any devices worked anymore. And was I ever surprised to realize I was his technology daughter; his prized creation! Then, I was shown my powers, and Mr. Game revealed himself. He confessed to what he was doing, and wanted me–me!–to help him reverse it. So I did just that, bonding with each other as we did so. But there was one last thing I had to do, or else my bond with Mr. Game would be rendered useless: I had to confront the headmaster of all of this: a lady named Tanya Missouri. She was going to trap Mr. Game into a Game and Watch handheld and set her house on fire, therefore killing Mr. Game. So I took things into my own hands. I went face-to-face with her, as I siphoned electricity to me and covered myself in a thick blanket of it, charging into Tanya and killing her once and for all. I don’t remember what happened after that. But I woke up in a hospital about a week later, having been in a coma. When I visited the Willowbark mall for the first time since the incident… What I saw almost made me cry. Mr. Game was once again living in poverty, homeless and struggling to make money for the things he needed. I assumed he’d been there as long as I was gone, because I had destroyed Tanya’s home after I killed her. But then I had a long, hard think: I could change all this. Something in me made me realize that I couldn’t ignore Mr. Game any longer. I could adopt him, since he had no family, and move to the server the DeCodeHacker found the portal to specifically for all the video game characters from the land of Nintendo of Japan: Nintendopolis. But that would come with drawbacks. I would have to give up everything I ever had here. My friends, my house, my belongings, my money, my childhood. Everything. And that would all be because of Mr. Game. But I didn’t care. I knew what the right choice was to make. I went up to Mr. Game, sitting on a frozen fountain and crying as he stared at the cash inside, told him about my decision, and off we went, making a new start here. I gave up everything for Mr. Game. And it paid off. …I’m going to sleep for a while. It’s getting late. I can tell Mr. Game later about Ness and I.
If I even get the chance to tell him myself.
The trip home felt like a million days for me. And to answer Amber’s question, yes, I was exhausted after today and needed something edible, but I was too nervous, for my throat felt like it was knotted intensely, therefore I might choke. In addition, I felt like I could not afford for Amber to make any purchases, for some strange reason. I had a feeling that money would be important. I looked up at the sky, in awe of the bold landscape…but also with sadness. Nothing could comfort me about Emily, for I knew what I had done to her, and how I could have prevented death—or at the very least, Mrs. Quartam’s death. Any weapon other than a gun would have saved her life, though I do believe she passed for the better. It was only natural to be angry at myself, and I felt like I had to do something to free Emily. I am sure she only lashed out at Amber last week because her parents were dead, and she had to watch them go. And even though they may have been... different from normal parents, I am sure Emily loved them both very much. I was already juggling a lot of stress in my life, especially in the past, what with living in poverty for most of my life, being fooled into nearly ruining all technology in this world and almost getting myself killed in the process, my parents hypnotized and kidnapped, being picked on by everyone who feels like it, a girlfriend of which Amber disapproves, and now a stalker who wants to kill us. That in particular made me worry tremendously. What would they do to Amber and Ness? Who would they attack first? Would I be the first to go, or perhaps be left for last and close to dead, for people around these areas seem to like me in suffering? Or would it be Ness, who was a best friend of Amber? I feel they are hiding something from me, which makes me feel slightly betrayed… No. The one the stalker would go after first would be Amber. She is the only one with the ability to successfully revive us, should one of us die. That is why I am here today. We arrived soon after my reflections, and Mrs. Fit unlocked the doors. Ness unbuckled his seatbelt and crammed himself through the middle of the row of seats, before letting himself out the door.
“Have a good rest of the evening, Ness! I’ll be seeing you tomorrow!” called Mrs. Fit as Ness disappeared into the distance, reaching into his pocket. Mrs. Fit then closed the driver side door and revved the engine, pulling out of the then-empty driveway and driving off. Ness’s house grew smaller and smaller as it became further away from the Mercedes, as we entered the clear, open, mildly forested field, and it was only now that I truly took notice of the scenery that night. The sky was a deep, bright purple, with vivid blue hints and a bounty of brilliant white stars. This was the kind of sky that made me feel that I truly belonged in the world. And then I remembered: I only have tomorrow and Wednesday to live. I had to plot some way to free Emily, and quickly, so I started brainstorming. I thought about various fantasies, all of them potential choices. Would I do something only Amber could pull off flawlessly and scot-free, busting in and beating up every other cop until someone unlocks her? It would be a great way to manipulate the fear of the cops… but no. I barely escaped sentencing today, so I want to avoid experiencing police custody once again. Could I sneak in and unlock her myself? It would be something that Amber could most likely pull off, once again, and I would have to be extremely cautious, but no. That would get me arrested again, too. There seems to be no way to safely free Emily! I looked down on myself. I knew that something was wrong inside me. Something inside my little mind was not correct. I felt horrible about myself! I cannot even protect my own girlfriend from jail, when I could have changed the outcome?! But then I remembered: Emily was given a 390 Poko bail. What if I looked in Amber’s private stash of papers and found her passwords? I could find her bank PIN, and her debit card! (We cannot afford credit at this time and day.) I would go to the nearest bank, listed in a pamphlet from a travel map named Onett’s Best (in other words, one of those pamphlets that acts like a tour guide and/or map), and withdraw Amber’s entire balance from her chequing and savings –which, after the purchases we’ve made, leaves us with…390 Pokos! EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED! OH MY ARCEUS!! …Oh my, I apologize for that sudden excitement. I am not one to normally “hype” over something. (On that note, saying hype sounds extremely strange to me, as do words like can’t, it’s, and shouldn’t. The mere thought of me using those words frequently makes me cringe.) My plan will play right into my hands! Then, I would go over to the Onett EBI Police Department, and hand over all the cash, returning home with Emily in my arms, running like it was exploding, and––whoops. I am getting far too ahead of myself for my own good. But as I was saying, it sounded like the best thing I could do! I needed to redeem myself. Amber, however, would kill me herself if she caught me. Knowing that we usually end up on the… poorer side of life… if I were to cause another financial fiasco, then who knows what would come my way. I normally expect a lecture, or a verbal explosion like when Amber found out about Emily and I in the first place, but what would actually happen would catch me off guard––and more. I would have to initialize the plan when she is busy, or perhaps even during school. But to do that, I would have to play sick, or perhaps even leave school grounds during class time. Or, perhaps I could leave during lunch, which would mean I would have to sneak out quickly, and sacrifice a few things. But I did not care. I was only concerned about getting Emily out of that awful prison she was locked inside. My thoughts were then abruptly interrupted by sudden swerving, screeching noises, and a thumping sound. The passenger window shattered from the sheer force of things, sending glass shards straight into our faces. Amber was swaying with the movements of the car, the cuts on her face becoming frighteningly apparent.
“Aah! Arceusdammit! What happened?” She fought against the force of the car, trying to peer into the mirror. Once seeing her face, she started to freak out.
“Oh god, I’m bleeding! Sorry for not using the right term but I’m, like, really bleeding!” I looked at her, but even though it was hard to get a good glimpse of her, Amber was right. She got it good.
“Oh my goodness! I can see you from the back here, Amber, and you’re right more than I’d hoped! I can fix you right up once we can stop somewhere!” cried Mrs. Fit. Her voice alone showed the expression on her face. We quickly pulled over, and I could hear the commotion behind us as Mrs. Fit dashed out of the driver’s side door with her first aid kit. The lights flashed on, and the others, their faces glowed in the moonlight. “My goodness! The most I can do is to bandage you up. Thankfully, it’s not too bad. I mean, yes, it’s very bad, but not enough to send you to the hospital.”reassured Mrs. Fit, examining Amber and placing bandages over the cuts. “You might just be exaggerating a little bit.”
“Whew…Mrs. Fit, may I ask what happened? With Amber injured, and the passenger window shattered, I can only wonder.” I asked. I could feel sweat beading up onto my forehead, but I soon felt a sharp pain in a cut of some sort. Mrs. Fit motioned for me to come out of the car, and I did so as she examined me using her flashlight.
“…Mr. Game, your injury—”
“Is much worse.”I interrupted. “I know it is.”
“No, Mr. Game. At least, not in the amount of injuries…”
“So it is worse.” My forehead started to burn up from there. It was as if it had been set on fire! I leaned over and clutched my head.
“Oh dear! Are you alright? Just look up here for a sec and…” I met Mrs. Fit’s eyes. She studied my face carefully, but I could see the surprise and urgency in her face.
“My Arceus! Your forehead is cut, big time!” exclaimed Amber. “I…I think I know what this means.” Mrs. Fit told me to go back into the car, and lie down in the back.
“Amber, look after to Mr. Game for me, will you? I already barely avoided a falling telephone pole and a drunk driver. I don’t need anything else happening to him on our way.” I fell asleep and tried my best to hope that I would be out of the emergency room in just a few hours.
My dream was something I never thought could happen. It must have been a few days ago, for it was sunny out, and it was a Friday from what I could tell. Two teenagers, about thirteen years old, were running around a grass field and messing around with each other, but then the girl froze. She had light brown hair that was almost red, and was wearing a long yellow dress that seemed to be long-sleeved, along with yellow mittens and grey leggings and shoes. I failed to get a clear look at her face, but somehow, I knew who she was. The boy also stopped in his tracks. He had bold red hair––likely dyed––and a blue, tattered leather jacket with ripped dark blue jeans and brown shoes. He was wearing some sort of gold chain, but I could not get a close look…
“Jay. Remember Amber?” she asked. "I don't know why, but she suddenly comes to mind."
“How could I forget her? I was pretty much gonna die and she saved me! Tanya was one heck of a gunman…”
“But that’s not what I’m talking about! There was the Mr. Game and Watch kid too! I wonder what happened to the two of them.”
“Alexa, how do I know? They were here one day and gone the next. I’d like to say that she’s here, at school with us, but…I think she died.” Jay suddenly had a look on his face that showed he was only realizing now what could have happened.
“She’s not dead, Jay. I can feel it. Waitaminute… you wanted to be around her every second of the day, didn’t you? You talk about her way too much, and now all of a sudden you’re, like, hovering over my every move and following me everywhere? Are you using me as a replacement for Amber?!” A weird feeling passed through me.
“No, I didn‘t obsess over her! And no, you’re not a replacement! Now, on a completely different note, there’s something else I’d like to tell you, too: John says none of this crap ever happened! He said it was just some dust that fell out of the port of his iPad, and that we were acting like idiots!” he shouted. Alexa became defensive, but agitated at the same time. If I thought Emily or Amber were using me as a replacement, I would honestly lose all my trust in them. I… I would hate to see the aftermath. In fact, hearing what John had allegedly said reminded me about something Amber told me when she visited me on the roads of Earth.
“Everyone says you’re not real, Mister Silver Eyes Kid. They all tease me because you supposedly don’t exist and think I'm just making things up! Please come to school one day and show them you’re a real, living person…”
That was the last time I had seen Amber before I was taken in by Tanya.
“He just doesn’t…Hold on! He probably didn’t see anything, but we did! What if there’s some sort of thingy that keeps other people from seeing all that stuff, like the Game and Watch kid? There could be some sort of force that makes it so only certain people can see this stuff!”
“Isn’t that random? Now stop trying! I don’t even know what we’re doing, but you are free to bleep off whenever you want!” Jay raised a fist at Alexa, and she flinched before raising her fist as well. She either stood up for what she believed in, or gave up. I could not tell. But if she was sticking up for her beliefs, then I praise her for it. I still have trouble with even speaking up for myself.
“Why do I even try with you? All I’m saying is that–ARRGH! I GIVE UP!” Alexa whipped her fist into Jay’s arm, and the dream faded as the two started to fistfight.
“Urgh…this is not…” I was coming back to my senses, thank Arceus. Was I at home…? Indeed. Our house was a small one, a one-story building with white outer walls and a dull green roof in a surprisingly calm neighbourhood, except for that one house down the street that has all the flashing lights. I believe I have even seen the police down there a few times, but if I were to say anything further, I would make myself throw up from that uneasy smell down at that same house tonight. Unfortunately, the paint had been starting to peel off, and our own home overall had been starting to come apart. We would need new shelter soon… but that would have to wait for later. I felt awful, but I had my priorities, and I knew I had to make them happen before my time was up. The inside of our home was much more welcoming than the outside, with dimmed lights and a bright, warm-coloured theme. Although it never had too many things inside it, and mostly outdated electronics, it was more than enough for Amber and I. It was only here, or even at Ness’s home, that I truly felt safe from the outside world.
“Nope! It ain’t the hospital. You were sleeping the whole time! The doctor found it childishly cute.” explained Amber. I could barely reach up to my head, but when I did, I could feel a tensor bandage wrapped around my head. It was only now that I realized I was laying on my back inside my bed. Had I really lost myself that much? “They think the stitches are gonna come out, so they wrapped you up just in case. You should get to bed, Mr. Game. I know I’m gonna do that.”
“Wait! Where is Mrs. Fit?” I called, only to see that Amber had already disappeared to her bedroom. Surprisingly, it took most of my energy to scream that loud, a slightly louder than average volume. They car accident must have injured me to a great extent… or maybe I was simply exhausted. I mean, I was up at 5 am this morning, and have had nothing to eat yet today. I hoisted myself up slowly and wobbled over to the fridge, curious to see whether anything was in it. But when I opened the fridge, all I saw was a Post-It note crumpled in the top-right corner, the rest being completely empty as per usual. The last I checked (about four days ago, or longer), it was at least half-full thanks to Ness stealing his mother’s credit card and splurging for us at the Cascade Mall, a giant shopping venue that is rumoured to be one of the biggest in all of Nintendopolis. Perhaps my memory had simply played games with me. I reached in and pulled it out, my arm feeling as if it were freezing as I did so, and when I unfolded the note, its contents nearly made me pass out:
Hahaha! Looks like they got your girlfriend, eh? You may not be the one locked up in a cell, but I’ll make sure to help you feel that way –and worse. Oh, and about these threats I hold against you? I’ll stop at nothing to make all three of you suffer a long, painful death. And maybe I’ll even kidnap your girl. We’ll have to see who can pay bail faster. You can’t avoid it for long. And you know what I mean... Barry. It was just too bad I couldn’t get Amber’s bank information.
Exactly how did the stalker know that I would be the first one to open the fridge? How did they even know my name? Either they overheard me from earlier, in the science lab, or they knew my name from before. And if they did know my name, then it would have been during that horrendous week––only about three weeks ago, I believe. (The irony in that wording.) Had this person been following us the entire day?! And why did they think I knew what this stalker meant? Not only that, but they were going to try to bail Emily out of jail before me?! There was no way in hell—um, Nether—that I would even let that come close to happening!! Reading the note over would just make me either rage into a conniption fit or cry uncontrollably, but I had already crumpled the note like it had not been already, nearly tearing it to shreds. I walked back over to the hallway, going slowly so I would not pass out, and entered the bathroom to get ready for bed.
But I still wondered: Why was I always a target for someone to use? What was it about me that was so terrible to the world? Was there something I did not know about myself?
“Have a good rest of the evening, Ness! I’ll be seeing you tomorrow!” called Mrs. Fit as Ness disappeared into the distance, reaching into his pocket. Mrs. Fit then closed the driver side door and revved the engine, pulling out of the then-empty driveway and driving off. Ness’s house grew smaller and smaller as it became further away from the Mercedes, as we entered the clear, open, mildly forested field, and it was only now that I truly took notice of the scenery that night. The sky was a deep, bright purple, with vivid blue hints and a bounty of brilliant white stars. This was the kind of sky that made me feel that I truly belonged in the world. And then I remembered: I only have tomorrow and Wednesday to live. I had to plot some way to free Emily, and quickly, so I started brainstorming. I thought about various fantasies, all of them potential choices. Would I do something only Amber could pull off flawlessly and scot-free, busting in and beating up every other cop until someone unlocks her? It would be a great way to manipulate the fear of the cops… but no. I barely escaped sentencing today, so I want to avoid experiencing police custody once again. Could I sneak in and unlock her myself? It would be something that Amber could most likely pull off, once again, and I would have to be extremely cautious, but no. That would get me arrested again, too. There seems to be no way to safely free Emily! I looked down on myself. I knew that something was wrong inside me. Something inside my little mind was not correct. I felt horrible about myself! I cannot even protect my own girlfriend from jail, when I could have changed the outcome?! But then I remembered: Emily was given a 390 Poko bail. What if I looked in Amber’s private stash of papers and found her passwords? I could find her bank PIN, and her debit card! (We cannot afford credit at this time and day.) I would go to the nearest bank, listed in a pamphlet from a travel map named Onett’s Best (in other words, one of those pamphlets that acts like a tour guide and/or map), and withdraw Amber’s entire balance from her chequing and savings –which, after the purchases we’ve made, leaves us with…390 Pokos! EXACTLY WHAT I NEEDED! OH MY ARCEUS!! …Oh my, I apologize for that sudden excitement. I am not one to normally “hype” over something. (On that note, saying hype sounds extremely strange to me, as do words like can’t, it’s, and shouldn’t. The mere thought of me using those words frequently makes me cringe.) My plan will play right into my hands! Then, I would go over to the Onett EBI Police Department, and hand over all the cash, returning home with Emily in my arms, running like it was exploding, and––whoops. I am getting far too ahead of myself for my own good. But as I was saying, it sounded like the best thing I could do! I needed to redeem myself. Amber, however, would kill me herself if she caught me. Knowing that we usually end up on the… poorer side of life… if I were to cause another financial fiasco, then who knows what would come my way. I normally expect a lecture, or a verbal explosion like when Amber found out about Emily and I in the first place, but what would actually happen would catch me off guard––and more. I would have to initialize the plan when she is busy, or perhaps even during school. But to do that, I would have to play sick, or perhaps even leave school grounds during class time. Or, perhaps I could leave during lunch, which would mean I would have to sneak out quickly, and sacrifice a few things. But I did not care. I was only concerned about getting Emily out of that awful prison she was locked inside. My thoughts were then abruptly interrupted by sudden swerving, screeching noises, and a thumping sound. The passenger window shattered from the sheer force of things, sending glass shards straight into our faces. Amber was swaying with the movements of the car, the cuts on her face becoming frighteningly apparent.
“Aah! Arceusdammit! What happened?” She fought against the force of the car, trying to peer into the mirror. Once seeing her face, she started to freak out.
“Oh god, I’m bleeding! Sorry for not using the right term but I’m, like, really bleeding!” I looked at her, but even though it was hard to get a good glimpse of her, Amber was right. She got it good.
“Oh my goodness! I can see you from the back here, Amber, and you’re right more than I’d hoped! I can fix you right up once we can stop somewhere!” cried Mrs. Fit. Her voice alone showed the expression on her face. We quickly pulled over, and I could hear the commotion behind us as Mrs. Fit dashed out of the driver’s side door with her first aid kit. The lights flashed on, and the others, their faces glowed in the moonlight. “My goodness! The most I can do is to bandage you up. Thankfully, it’s not too bad. I mean, yes, it’s very bad, but not enough to send you to the hospital.”reassured Mrs. Fit, examining Amber and placing bandages over the cuts. “You might just be exaggerating a little bit.”
“Whew…Mrs. Fit, may I ask what happened? With Amber injured, and the passenger window shattered, I can only wonder.” I asked. I could feel sweat beading up onto my forehead, but I soon felt a sharp pain in a cut of some sort. Mrs. Fit motioned for me to come out of the car, and I did so as she examined me using her flashlight.
“…Mr. Game, your injury—”
“Is much worse.”I interrupted. “I know it is.”
“No, Mr. Game. At least, not in the amount of injuries…”
“So it is worse.” My forehead started to burn up from there. It was as if it had been set on fire! I leaned over and clutched my head.
“Oh dear! Are you alright? Just look up here for a sec and…” I met Mrs. Fit’s eyes. She studied my face carefully, but I could see the surprise and urgency in her face.
“My Arceus! Your forehead is cut, big time!” exclaimed Amber. “I…I think I know what this means.” Mrs. Fit told me to go back into the car, and lie down in the back.
“Amber, look after to Mr. Game for me, will you? I already barely avoided a falling telephone pole and a drunk driver. I don’t need anything else happening to him on our way.” I fell asleep and tried my best to hope that I would be out of the emergency room in just a few hours.
My dream was something I never thought could happen. It must have been a few days ago, for it was sunny out, and it was a Friday from what I could tell. Two teenagers, about thirteen years old, were running around a grass field and messing around with each other, but then the girl froze. She had light brown hair that was almost red, and was wearing a long yellow dress that seemed to be long-sleeved, along with yellow mittens and grey leggings and shoes. I failed to get a clear look at her face, but somehow, I knew who she was. The boy also stopped in his tracks. He had bold red hair––likely dyed––and a blue, tattered leather jacket with ripped dark blue jeans and brown shoes. He was wearing some sort of gold chain, but I could not get a close look…
“Jay. Remember Amber?” she asked. "I don't know why, but she suddenly comes to mind."
“How could I forget her? I was pretty much gonna die and she saved me! Tanya was one heck of a gunman…”
“But that’s not what I’m talking about! There was the Mr. Game and Watch kid too! I wonder what happened to the two of them.”
“Alexa, how do I know? They were here one day and gone the next. I’d like to say that she’s here, at school with us, but…I think she died.” Jay suddenly had a look on his face that showed he was only realizing now what could have happened.
“She’s not dead, Jay. I can feel it. Waitaminute… you wanted to be around her every second of the day, didn’t you? You talk about her way too much, and now all of a sudden you’re, like, hovering over my every move and following me everywhere? Are you using me as a replacement for Amber?!” A weird feeling passed through me.
“No, I didn‘t obsess over her! And no, you’re not a replacement! Now, on a completely different note, there’s something else I’d like to tell you, too: John says none of this crap ever happened! He said it was just some dust that fell out of the port of his iPad, and that we were acting like idiots!” he shouted. Alexa became defensive, but agitated at the same time. If I thought Emily or Amber were using me as a replacement, I would honestly lose all my trust in them. I… I would hate to see the aftermath. In fact, hearing what John had allegedly said reminded me about something Amber told me when she visited me on the roads of Earth.
“Everyone says you’re not real, Mister Silver Eyes Kid. They all tease me because you supposedly don’t exist and think I'm just making things up! Please come to school one day and show them you’re a real, living person…”
That was the last time I had seen Amber before I was taken in by Tanya.
“He just doesn’t…Hold on! He probably didn’t see anything, but we did! What if there’s some sort of thingy that keeps other people from seeing all that stuff, like the Game and Watch kid? There could be some sort of force that makes it so only certain people can see this stuff!”
“Isn’t that random? Now stop trying! I don’t even know what we’re doing, but you are free to bleep off whenever you want!” Jay raised a fist at Alexa, and she flinched before raising her fist as well. She either stood up for what she believed in, or gave up. I could not tell. But if she was sticking up for her beliefs, then I praise her for it. I still have trouble with even speaking up for myself.
“Why do I even try with you? All I’m saying is that–ARRGH! I GIVE UP!” Alexa whipped her fist into Jay’s arm, and the dream faded as the two started to fistfight.
“Urgh…this is not…” I was coming back to my senses, thank Arceus. Was I at home…? Indeed. Our house was a small one, a one-story building with white outer walls and a dull green roof in a surprisingly calm neighbourhood, except for that one house down the street that has all the flashing lights. I believe I have even seen the police down there a few times, but if I were to say anything further, I would make myself throw up from that uneasy smell down at that same house tonight. Unfortunately, the paint had been starting to peel off, and our own home overall had been starting to come apart. We would need new shelter soon… but that would have to wait for later. I felt awful, but I had my priorities, and I knew I had to make them happen before my time was up. The inside of our home was much more welcoming than the outside, with dimmed lights and a bright, warm-coloured theme. Although it never had too many things inside it, and mostly outdated electronics, it was more than enough for Amber and I. It was only here, or even at Ness’s home, that I truly felt safe from the outside world.
“Nope! It ain’t the hospital. You were sleeping the whole time! The doctor found it childishly cute.” explained Amber. I could barely reach up to my head, but when I did, I could feel a tensor bandage wrapped around my head. It was only now that I realized I was laying on my back inside my bed. Had I really lost myself that much? “They think the stitches are gonna come out, so they wrapped you up just in case. You should get to bed, Mr. Game. I know I’m gonna do that.”
“Wait! Where is Mrs. Fit?” I called, only to see that Amber had already disappeared to her bedroom. Surprisingly, it took most of my energy to scream that loud, a slightly louder than average volume. They car accident must have injured me to a great extent… or maybe I was simply exhausted. I mean, I was up at 5 am this morning, and have had nothing to eat yet today. I hoisted myself up slowly and wobbled over to the fridge, curious to see whether anything was in it. But when I opened the fridge, all I saw was a Post-It note crumpled in the top-right corner, the rest being completely empty as per usual. The last I checked (about four days ago, or longer), it was at least half-full thanks to Ness stealing his mother’s credit card and splurging for us at the Cascade Mall, a giant shopping venue that is rumoured to be one of the biggest in all of Nintendopolis. Perhaps my memory had simply played games with me. I reached in and pulled it out, my arm feeling as if it were freezing as I did so, and when I unfolded the note, its contents nearly made me pass out:
Hahaha! Looks like they got your girlfriend, eh? You may not be the one locked up in a cell, but I’ll make sure to help you feel that way –and worse. Oh, and about these threats I hold against you? I’ll stop at nothing to make all three of you suffer a long, painful death. And maybe I’ll even kidnap your girl. We’ll have to see who can pay bail faster. You can’t avoid it for long. And you know what I mean... Barry. It was just too bad I couldn’t get Amber’s bank information.
Exactly how did the stalker know that I would be the first one to open the fridge? How did they even know my name? Either they overheard me from earlier, in the science lab, or they knew my name from before. And if they did know my name, then it would have been during that horrendous week––only about three weeks ago, I believe. (The irony in that wording.) Had this person been following us the entire day?! And why did they think I knew what this stalker meant? Not only that, but they were going to try to bail Emily out of jail before me?! There was no way in hell—um, Nether—that I would even let that come close to happening!! Reading the note over would just make me either rage into a conniption fit or cry uncontrollably, but I had already crumpled the note like it had not been already, nearly tearing it to shreds. I walked back over to the hallway, going slowly so I would not pass out, and entered the bathroom to get ready for bed.
But I still wondered: Why was I always a target for someone to use? What was it about me that was so terrible to the world? Was there something I did not know about myself?
“Wake up! Wake up! We are going to Ness’s home!”
No, that wasn’t Mr. Game waking me up. (Sorry.) That was me mocking––no, sorry again, imitating––Mr. Game when he normally wakes me up. To me, he’s like a personal alarm clock that never shuts off, because if I didn’t have Mr. Game in the same house as me, then I would sleep through the whole school day. But today, it was a reverse situation.
“Urgh…Amber, five more minutes…please…” replied Mr. Game, grumbling and turning away. I found that pretty weird. Mr. Game’s usually the first one up! And to that point, the situation was usually opposite to now. I’m awful at remembering to do stuff for or with other people, when it’s not Ness or Mr. Game. I crawled over to the other side of the bed and looked him in the eyes, and noticed that he looked really pale, like Mr. Game was sick, but he wasn’t. I mean, he did have a big cut on his head, but something seemed really off about him. He almost looked… well, I dunno how to put it actually. Uh… he looked kinda ill, after what happened three weeks ago. See, Mr. Game had to have this life-saving surgery a few weeks ago because some Interspectacular jerk punched a hole right through his shoulder. I’m not kidding. But having to get that done cost about 2560 Pokos, the currency we use here, and I’ll let you guess how many Pokos I had then. (If you guessed less than two thousand five hundred sixty, then you’re right. I had fourteen and I still have to pay back my debt for that one.) But then Emily apparently started telling Mr. Game lies about me, like insulting his weight and giving her important documents. How she got the documents, I have absolutely no idea, but Mr. Game decided to lose all trust in me and ran away for a week. During that time, I'm not entirely sure of the specifics, but from my understanding Mr. Game was stuck reliving his early years on Earth. I think school had been the entire week because they were still recovering from a strike, but I just wish I knew what was happening in the week he was gone. But all this turned out to be really coincidental, because there was some event that you could win money in, and Mr. Game somehow got in, pulled out a horseshoe from his pants, and won! …Not literally! That would be just plain awful! But that’s why we’ve got 389 Pokos right now.
“Dude…you really aren’t looking too good.” I stated.
“You think? I am sleeping…” grumbled Mr. Game, turning away once again and trying to go back to sleep. And then I said something importantly random, like when Ness says Fuzzy pickles! but with an actual purpose.
“Mr. Game, did you find any Stalk-It notes yesterday?” I asked. Mr. Game jolted upright. He rubbed his eyes and reached down to the tattered indigo mat beside his bed, lifting it up and pulling a crumpled sticky note from under it.
“I did, indeed.” He handed me the note and stared at me expectantly, trying to hide any weakness. “You may leave now if you have what you desire.”
“No! Sorry, but I care about you and how you’re doing, and I wanna see what Mr. Stalk-It Note has to say now!” I shouted back. I glared at Mr. Game and studied the note carefully, soaking in every word as if I’d gone to the Olive Garden with Ness, just me and him… Oh Arceus! Pretend I never said that! That wasn’t necessary. But my hands started trembling as soon as I got to the part with the bail. Was…was Mr. Game really going to bail Emily out?
“Uh, you’re not planning on bailing Emily out, are you?” I asked, trying to hold my authority over him.
“N-no…” Mr. Game sniffled and nearly started to cry. Man, is that kid ever emotional! I can’t blame him. “A-And…now she’ll be…a hostage…N-no…” Then the doorbell rang. Again.
“Hold on. I’ll get the door, and you get ready for school, okay?” I stated. I opened the door to get out, bolted into my room to get dressed as fast as I could, went into the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth, and then answered the door once I got to it. And when I opened the door…?
“Oh thank Arceus! Amber, you need to see this, fuzzy pickles! The stalker robbed my family!” cried Ness, worriedly handing me a crumpled Stalk-It note. This time, the top corner was ripped, and the text was so smudged I almost couldn’t read it. But thanks to my (not so) advanced reading skills, I could make out what it said:
As you read this, I’m dying laughing at how easy it was to snatch all your cash. Yep. All of it. I’m surprised your mother’s PIN was what it was. I’m surprised I could even grab her wallet so easily. Now, doesn’t this remind you of a certain something? Perhaps, even a person—or two?
“Arceus…”It took a little while for me to get it completely, but it popped into my mind: The Michelins had gone broke. Even worse, it wasn’t because a life-saving surgery was required. It was because of that freaking stalker! Now I really hate Mr. Stalk-It Note!! How could they do this to my boyfriend? What would Tracy do? Speaking of, she had actually followed Ness to our house (me and Mr. Game’s). Her black hair was in a ratted mess, and she had thrown on something she wore the day before. I could tell because it was super stained. She wore a pink headband with the mint-green stained dress I mentioned before. Her belt was really crooked, and she was wearing the same boots Emily does, but what looked like a bigger size.
“Oh my Arceus! Ness, I can’t believe Mr. Stalk-It would just rob your family like that! Here, at lunchtime we can go to the bank and withdraw 100 Pokos for you! And I’ll make sure you change your mom’s PIN number! I mean, you have her card on you, right?” I cried, sympathetic for him. But why did I ask if Ness had his mom’s debit or credit on him if it was stolen?
“N-no, fuzzy pickles. I don’t. Fuzzy pickles, I wish I did, though.” he replied. There were the fuzzy pickles again.
“Why do you like fuzzy pickles so much?” I asked impulsively. The reason would make me rethink how I’ve handled it earlier. I then remembered I had to do some something I forgot to do last night before I went to bed. “I’ll be right back, Ness. I’ve gotta put Mr. Game’s laundry in the wash machine and grab something from my room, okay?” I said, walking into Mr. Game’s room without giving Ness a chance to answer. I collected the laundry from his hamper, picking it up easily and walking it to what I called the laundry room, where I dumped it all inside the wash machine. I then walked slowly to my room and quickly grabbing my PokeGear from my desk. I kinda noticed that my papers were slightly off from where I left them, and that I hadn’t seen Mr. Game since I left to answer the door. I don’t think it’s a big deal, but I actually should be kinda worried. Meh. Soon after I got back, I heard Mr. Game coming into the room, crying and starting to hug me.
“A-Amber, why…Stalker…” he sobbed.
“What’s this all about?”asked Ness, confused.
“Oh, well…The stalker’s gonna bail Emily out of jail and hold her hostage. Just another motivation to kill the guy!” I explained.
“Or girl…” Mr. Game jumped in. I didn’t need to be reminded! But as it would turn out, the whole bail thing would end much, much differently than I would’ve even wanted. Tracy started to poke Mr. Game, and Ness flipped when he realized she had followed.
“Tracy Michelin? Why the Nether did you follow me?! You are not to say a WORD about this, you got me, fuzzy pickles?!” he screamed.
“Got it, Nessten! I’m off to school now!” Tracy replied, as if it all never happened. “See you guys later!”
“L-let’s go to s-s-school.”Mr. Game sniffled again, rubbed his eyes, and tried to calm himself so he wouldn’t cry at the Academy. A good plan, if you ask me, especially for him. “Okay. This time, I’m actually ready to go, so if you are, Mr. Game, then it looks like we’re on our way!”
The three of us opened the door and casually walked outside with our backpacks, and I locked the door tightly this time. No, I don’t need to be reminded to do that. Not after Sunday. I then jogged to catch up with the others, and this time it was Mr. Game who first mentioned the stalker.
“W-who would have the heart to want to kidnap Emily?” cried Mr. Game.
“The only person that comes to mind would probably be one of the Tac, but copycats probably wouldn’t do that. Tac mind their own business! Fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness. He leaned into me with a wide grin on his face. (But really? Copycats? Wait… OH! Why do I only get it now?!) “I think Mom and Tracy are working night shifts at Escargot Express. Perhaps you and Mr. Game want to have dinner at my place tonight, fuzzy pickles?”
“Anything you wanna do, Ness, I’ll do happily!” I replied. Wait, I’m getting cheesy, aren’t I? Sorry. Mr. Game started throwing questions at me then, almost like he knew about me and Ness being in love.
“Hold on––Amber, you would never talk to Ness like that! And you certainly would not act in such a strange manner! Are you two keeping a secret from me?” asked Mr. Game, his tone getting more and more serious. Most people wouldn’t be able to take him seriously, but I‘ve known Mr. Game long enough that I’ve gotten past how ridiculous his voice sounds sometimes.
“No, Mr. Game. W-what makes you think that?” I replied. Oh, Arceus…the stammering. Dammit, no! I don’t want Mr. Game to know yet!
“Are you… I believe I am getting ahead of myself, but are you perhaps dating Ness?” he asked. Unfortunately, Ness piped up right about then. He seemed really nervous and tense all of a sudden.
“Fuzzy pickles yep! We sure are! Fuzzy pickles! Since yesterday, actually, fuzzy pickles!” he exclaimed. Ness looked at me, and knowing his mistake, he started to talk again, but not in the way I expected it…
“Fuzzy pickles fuzzy pickles fuzzy pickles…” he realized nervously. NO! Why?! Couldn’t he have SHUT UP for once?! Mr. Game’s eyes filled up with anger and rage, and he almost looked like his dad, Mr. Watch, when hypnotized as it happened.
“You hypocrite! You say I cannot have love for Emily, yet the next thing I know you have a boyfriend?! And that boyfriend is NESS MICHELIN, of all people you could have possibly picked?! How could you, Amber Tzaziki?!” he screamed, kicking me in the shin hard and rushing off, sobbing the entire way. I wanted to punch the kid right in the face! Mr. Game humiliated me in front of the public! And even worse, Ness told him when I wasn’t ready for Mr. Game to know! I had a thought in the back of my mind that it was related to the fuzzy pickles, but I denied it.
“What the Nether were you thinking?! I wasn’t ready to let him know!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. I was p—No. I stopped myself that time, but how much longer do I have to censor myself?! I wanted to just let Ness have it. I didn’t care where I was. But I had this nagging feeling that there was something else going on.
“Fuzzy pickles…fuzzy pickles! Fuzzy pickles!” he cried loudly, starting to shed tears. I had enough of this.
“I SWEAR TO ARCEUS, IF YOU SAY FUZZY PICKLES ONE MORE TIME, I WILL BREAK UP WITH YOU AND WE’LL NEVER BE FRIENDS AGAIN!!” I screeched.
“A-Amber, if that happened, you w-would want to b-b-be at least ten feet a-away from me! Y-You would have already b-broken up with me! W-W-We would have n-never been friends in t-the f-f-first place! P-Please, I’m begging you Amber, give me a chance to explain…” Ness cried angrily, as if the thing most insecure about him was being attacked. That turned out to be the case.
“Go on,” I said, “but make it quick. You have ONE try.”
“I-I –Amber, it just popped out without me knowing! It–It just happens to me sometimes and I don’t know what to do about it! I can’t control it! That’s…that’s why I say fuzzy pickles in most of my sentences. My counsellor said it was a tic disorder.” confessed Ness. Wow… I would have never thought of something like that. What an idiot I am… And now that I think about it, I think I knew this one kid with somethin’ like that. Can’t remember their name, though…
“I’ve had it since I was about six, but my parents didn’t know what to do about it. It would always get out of hand, especially with Tracy. Most of the time, she was okay with it, but there were times when she couldn’t stand it. Sometimes, well, there was a time where my PK got associated with it. That was the worst. I nearly got arrested for setting a house on fire by accident. It all went away for a while… until about three years ago… and Giygas, when the four of us had to kill him, he changed some of us for good. That’s when my tics returned. It’s never been the same since. Everyone stares at me like I’m an alien, and I have no friends except for you and Mr. Game. That’s how bad it is. My old friends couldn’t stand having me around because almost every sentence had fuzzy pickles in it.” Ness broke down and started crying really hard. I started feeling sympathy for him. I personally didn’t know what it was like to have people staring at you for things you couldn’t change so easily, but I understood thanks to Mr. Game. It must be hard to hide from something when you have people making fun of that same thing. And because Ness was crying, I almost started crying myself. There we were, in front of the Academy of the Interspectacular and the Dark, making ourselves look like emotional teenagers going through a sudden jump in hormones. (And by the way, I can’t turn 13. Or can I…? We’ll have to see when the time comes, but if I’m correct Mr. Game and I had our birthdays already this year due to a glitch the DeCodeHacker can’t fix without killing us. I wonder if it was just us.) Once we finally pulled it together, we went inside and looked for the schedule that showed us where our first class was. The billboard had been moved to the corner of the lobby, and thankfully, we beat the morning rush of random kids trying to get to class. Drumroll, please…
“Are you kidding me? Do I really have to sit through a bunch of haikus again?” I cried. “Not like I even did that in the first place yesterday.” If there was one class I hated, it was either Math or Language Arts (English to those of you actually in high school on Earth), because I can’t do multiplication for the life of me, let alone complicated addition and subtraction, and all we ever do in Lang—sorry, English—is poetry and spelling. I would rather skip that class entirely, though, because I can’t spell a lot of things. I actually don’t know how I did it when I wrote about my feelings to Ness. I took a closer look at the schedule, just to see whether I actually have to sit through a lecture on how many syllables a sentence has to have. And when I did that, I noticed that I was looking at homeroom 142, not homeroom 147.
“Whoops…Ness, never mind. Wrong class. I wonder what we actually have…” I corrected. But Ness had already beat me to the punch.
“Cooking, fuzzy pickles!” he replied. “And as far as I’m aware, this goes up until lunch.” Mr. Watch’s classroom had a tendency for having the strong scent of cookie dough and Poffins, because there’s an afterschool class on baking. I didn't think that'd be problem, though. I was more concerned about how long I'd go without getting bored or leaving the classroom.
“I wonder how long I’ll make it through?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Amber. Let’s get going.” He grabbed me by the hand and headed down the hallway and up the first staircase, taking a left turn on the third chance and waiting by the door for Mr. Game and Emily to—Oh, I’m sorry. Did I forget Emily was jailed? Nope. Not at all. I started getting bored, so I walked around a little bit in the proximity in front of the classroom, and took a drink in the water fountain, because I was really thirsty. But that should’ve been obvious, right? Then I heard Ness call to me from about three or four feet away.
“Fuzzy pickles! Amber, come here!” he cried.
“Okay, coming! Just give me a few more seconds to drink some water…” I yelled back to him before shoving my face back into the water fountain. I need to remember to take care of myself while I’m doing my best to protect Mr. Game, sustain a friendship with Ness, and do my best in school, all while getting stalked and trying to pay my debts!
“No, Amber. You need to get over here now, fuzzy pickles.” he replied. I turned around and saw Ness holding up the blank side of a sticky note, probably from Mr. Stalk-It. Did there really have to be one now, in the middle of a popular hallway when it’s starting to get busy? What if someone snooped on us?
“You’ve gotta be kidding! My Arceus, does it have to be now?!” I replied, forcing myself up and back over to room 233’s doorway. The inside of the hallways had a very clean, glassy look. The flooring was two layers of mirror-like plastic, sandwiching rainbow bits of shrapnel in between. There was a short, black balcony overshadowing the first floor, and if you search hard enough, you can probably find the secret elevator to the staff and board rooms. I’m personally still working on it so I can maybe snatch some of the food for home. It would take a load off our expenses.
“Check this out, fuzzy pickles! You’re lucky I haven’t ripped it this time!” Ness handed me a perfectly clean Stalk-It note, and I read it to myself like I did this morning:
I know you better than you know me. I know everything about you, I know your public ties, I know your schedules, and I know the best way to kill you. You’re never safe in this place called Onett, and even those you think are innocent will betray you in one way or another. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
“So what is this supposed to mean?” I whispered.
“Not sure, Amber. Fuzzy pickles. But they do seem to have been watching what we do at every moment. Fuzzy pickles. That, or they’re just trying to intimidate us.” Ness answered, also in a whisper. I looked to my side and saw Trooper again, walking by and looking sad, but also angry. He noticed me and looked me in the eyes with a look that tried to make him seem calm but didn't.
“Have you seen Kooper? I haven’t seen her since yesterday!” he asked. Before I started looking, I looked at Trooper’s shoes and realized they seemed… worn out. The green cover was peeling off slightly in some places, but underneath were tiny showings of red. I didn’t know Trooper wore red socks.
“What’s up with your shoes?” I asked first, pointing to them.
“Just look for Kooper!” he yelled back angrily.
“Hey! Take it easy, fuzzy pickles! She will! Just leave her alone!” Ness stated, standing up for me.
“I’ll do it now. Let’s see…” I never went to the cafeteria…and I didn’t see her walking home yesterday, but we left late… “Nope, sorry. I haven’t. If I could help you, I would, but I don’t know. I also haven’t seen any trails of food.” I answered, glancing quickly from side to side just in case. I’ll be the first to admit I didn’t try too hard. I couldn’t care less about Kooper right now, because us getting stalked and killed is much more important that finding your sister who will find her way back to you at lunch.
“Of course you don’t! There’s a crumb path right THERE! Do you even have eyes?!” Trooper snapped back at me, pointing at the cake crumbs. He gave me a glare and stomped away.
“What’s up with him?” Ness asked. “Fuzzy pickles.” I was trying to get better at ignoring how fuzzy pickles were such a recurrent thing with Ness, especially since he just told me why, but sometimes it just annoys the Nether outta me! Besides, that was only, like, an hour ago, so maybe I’m trying to rush myself. And on top of that, he’s my boyfriend. But that's only been for a day, so... I think I'm going too fast.
“No idea. He’s been like that since we told him he couldn’t go to Superflat City with us. Remember that, back when we had to find that article? I wonder why they’d only publish that information in a newspaper.” I responded.
“Heh heh, yeah. It didn’t—”
“Well well well, what do we have here?” Mr. Game. He had come from behind me, with an angry look still gracing his face. It felt strange to have my adopted son acting in a way that was so far away from the Mr. Game that I knew… It scared me. It was like Tanya had a strong influence on him again.
“Waiting for first class, hmmm? So am I. I came here only to see Father.” He walked into the room, and as Mr. Game opened the door, a waft of coffee and burnt sugar cookies flew in my face.
“Ness, do you think that maybe he’s short-circuiting?”I asked. A short-circuit is a breakdown of the mind that happens from lack of life necessities. As far as I’m aware, it happens when… um… Damn! I should pay more attention in Science! But anyway, the symptoms I know of can be a sudden language change (usually to either Japanese), frequent bizarre behaviours involving mirages, passing out a lot, and becoming extremely emotional, to the point of being unnatural to those around you. And unlike the last time I explained this to you (if you were even there), none of those are fake this time.
“Yeah, he probably is.”Ness replied. “But back to our topic with Trooper—”
“Maybe something happened to one of the Kamokawas. Remember when we had that sleepover while Mr. Game was gone?” I suggested. “When we played Truth or Dare and everyone had to say what meant the most to them, Trooper said that was April and Kooper. I dunno. Maybe he’s just in a bad mood.” And then an announcement rang through the school halls.
“Good morning, students of the Academy! Mr. Watch is… sick… today, and I, Mrs. Ketchum, will be filling in for him today, though I will only be doing his principal duties. Now onto the morning announcements!” rang the intercom. Huh. Mr. Watch is supposedly sick today. I’ll bet you 5 Pokos he’s actually taking today off because he’s shocked Mr. Game won the court case.
“Well then. I wonder what Mr. Game’s reaction was to that, fuzzy pickles.” replied Ness. “Otherwise, let’s get inside. The first class will be starting in about six minutes. Fuzzy pickles, we don’t want to be late!”
“You have a good point. Neither do I,” I answered, and we entered the classroom together as the first bell rang.
No, that wasn’t Mr. Game waking me up. (Sorry.) That was me mocking––no, sorry again, imitating––Mr. Game when he normally wakes me up. To me, he’s like a personal alarm clock that never shuts off, because if I didn’t have Mr. Game in the same house as me, then I would sleep through the whole school day. But today, it was a reverse situation.
“Urgh…Amber, five more minutes…please…” replied Mr. Game, grumbling and turning away. I found that pretty weird. Mr. Game’s usually the first one up! And to that point, the situation was usually opposite to now. I’m awful at remembering to do stuff for or with other people, when it’s not Ness or Mr. Game. I crawled over to the other side of the bed and looked him in the eyes, and noticed that he looked really pale, like Mr. Game was sick, but he wasn’t. I mean, he did have a big cut on his head, but something seemed really off about him. He almost looked… well, I dunno how to put it actually. Uh… he looked kinda ill, after what happened three weeks ago. See, Mr. Game had to have this life-saving surgery a few weeks ago because some Interspectacular jerk punched a hole right through his shoulder. I’m not kidding. But having to get that done cost about 2560 Pokos, the currency we use here, and I’ll let you guess how many Pokos I had then. (If you guessed less than two thousand five hundred sixty, then you’re right. I had fourteen and I still have to pay back my debt for that one.) But then Emily apparently started telling Mr. Game lies about me, like insulting his weight and giving her important documents. How she got the documents, I have absolutely no idea, but Mr. Game decided to lose all trust in me and ran away for a week. During that time, I'm not entirely sure of the specifics, but from my understanding Mr. Game was stuck reliving his early years on Earth. I think school had been the entire week because they were still recovering from a strike, but I just wish I knew what was happening in the week he was gone. But all this turned out to be really coincidental, because there was some event that you could win money in, and Mr. Game somehow got in, pulled out a horseshoe from his pants, and won! …Not literally! That would be just plain awful! But that’s why we’ve got 389 Pokos right now.
“Dude…you really aren’t looking too good.” I stated.
“You think? I am sleeping…” grumbled Mr. Game, turning away once again and trying to go back to sleep. And then I said something importantly random, like when Ness says Fuzzy pickles! but with an actual purpose.
“Mr. Game, did you find any Stalk-It notes yesterday?” I asked. Mr. Game jolted upright. He rubbed his eyes and reached down to the tattered indigo mat beside his bed, lifting it up and pulling a crumpled sticky note from under it.
“I did, indeed.” He handed me the note and stared at me expectantly, trying to hide any weakness. “You may leave now if you have what you desire.”
“No! Sorry, but I care about you and how you’re doing, and I wanna see what Mr. Stalk-It Note has to say now!” I shouted back. I glared at Mr. Game and studied the note carefully, soaking in every word as if I’d gone to the Olive Garden with Ness, just me and him… Oh Arceus! Pretend I never said that! That wasn’t necessary. But my hands started trembling as soon as I got to the part with the bail. Was…was Mr. Game really going to bail Emily out?
“Uh, you’re not planning on bailing Emily out, are you?” I asked, trying to hold my authority over him.
“N-no…” Mr. Game sniffled and nearly started to cry. Man, is that kid ever emotional! I can’t blame him. “A-And…now she’ll be…a hostage…N-no…” Then the doorbell rang. Again.
“Hold on. I’ll get the door, and you get ready for school, okay?” I stated. I opened the door to get out, bolted into my room to get dressed as fast as I could, went into the bathroom to brush my hair and teeth, and then answered the door once I got to it. And when I opened the door…?
“Oh thank Arceus! Amber, you need to see this, fuzzy pickles! The stalker robbed my family!” cried Ness, worriedly handing me a crumpled Stalk-It note. This time, the top corner was ripped, and the text was so smudged I almost couldn’t read it. But thanks to my (not so) advanced reading skills, I could make out what it said:
As you read this, I’m dying laughing at how easy it was to snatch all your cash. Yep. All of it. I’m surprised your mother’s PIN was what it was. I’m surprised I could even grab her wallet so easily. Now, doesn’t this remind you of a certain something? Perhaps, even a person—or two?
“Arceus…”It took a little while for me to get it completely, but it popped into my mind: The Michelins had gone broke. Even worse, it wasn’t because a life-saving surgery was required. It was because of that freaking stalker! Now I really hate Mr. Stalk-It Note!! How could they do this to my boyfriend? What would Tracy do? Speaking of, she had actually followed Ness to our house (me and Mr. Game’s). Her black hair was in a ratted mess, and she had thrown on something she wore the day before. I could tell because it was super stained. She wore a pink headband with the mint-green stained dress I mentioned before. Her belt was really crooked, and she was wearing the same boots Emily does, but what looked like a bigger size.
“Oh my Arceus! Ness, I can’t believe Mr. Stalk-It would just rob your family like that! Here, at lunchtime we can go to the bank and withdraw 100 Pokos for you! And I’ll make sure you change your mom’s PIN number! I mean, you have her card on you, right?” I cried, sympathetic for him. But why did I ask if Ness had his mom’s debit or credit on him if it was stolen?
“N-no, fuzzy pickles. I don’t. Fuzzy pickles, I wish I did, though.” he replied. There were the fuzzy pickles again.
“Why do you like fuzzy pickles so much?” I asked impulsively. The reason would make me rethink how I’ve handled it earlier. I then remembered I had to do some something I forgot to do last night before I went to bed. “I’ll be right back, Ness. I’ve gotta put Mr. Game’s laundry in the wash machine and grab something from my room, okay?” I said, walking into Mr. Game’s room without giving Ness a chance to answer. I collected the laundry from his hamper, picking it up easily and walking it to what I called the laundry room, where I dumped it all inside the wash machine. I then walked slowly to my room and quickly grabbing my PokeGear from my desk. I kinda noticed that my papers were slightly off from where I left them, and that I hadn’t seen Mr. Game since I left to answer the door. I don’t think it’s a big deal, but I actually should be kinda worried. Meh. Soon after I got back, I heard Mr. Game coming into the room, crying and starting to hug me.
“A-Amber, why…Stalker…” he sobbed.
“What’s this all about?”asked Ness, confused.
“Oh, well…The stalker’s gonna bail Emily out of jail and hold her hostage. Just another motivation to kill the guy!” I explained.
“Or girl…” Mr. Game jumped in. I didn’t need to be reminded! But as it would turn out, the whole bail thing would end much, much differently than I would’ve even wanted. Tracy started to poke Mr. Game, and Ness flipped when he realized she had followed.
“Tracy Michelin? Why the Nether did you follow me?! You are not to say a WORD about this, you got me, fuzzy pickles?!” he screamed.
“Got it, Nessten! I’m off to school now!” Tracy replied, as if it all never happened. “See you guys later!”
“L-let’s go to s-s-school.”Mr. Game sniffled again, rubbed his eyes, and tried to calm himself so he wouldn’t cry at the Academy. A good plan, if you ask me, especially for him. “Okay. This time, I’m actually ready to go, so if you are, Mr. Game, then it looks like we’re on our way!”
The three of us opened the door and casually walked outside with our backpacks, and I locked the door tightly this time. No, I don’t need to be reminded to do that. Not after Sunday. I then jogged to catch up with the others, and this time it was Mr. Game who first mentioned the stalker.
“W-who would have the heart to want to kidnap Emily?” cried Mr. Game.
“The only person that comes to mind would probably be one of the Tac, but copycats probably wouldn’t do that. Tac mind their own business! Fuzzy pickles!” replied Ness. He leaned into me with a wide grin on his face. (But really? Copycats? Wait… OH! Why do I only get it now?!) “I think Mom and Tracy are working night shifts at Escargot Express. Perhaps you and Mr. Game want to have dinner at my place tonight, fuzzy pickles?”
“Anything you wanna do, Ness, I’ll do happily!” I replied. Wait, I’m getting cheesy, aren’t I? Sorry. Mr. Game started throwing questions at me then, almost like he knew about me and Ness being in love.
“Hold on––Amber, you would never talk to Ness like that! And you certainly would not act in such a strange manner! Are you two keeping a secret from me?” asked Mr. Game, his tone getting more and more serious. Most people wouldn’t be able to take him seriously, but I‘ve known Mr. Game long enough that I’ve gotten past how ridiculous his voice sounds sometimes.
“No, Mr. Game. W-what makes you think that?” I replied. Oh, Arceus…the stammering. Dammit, no! I don’t want Mr. Game to know yet!
“Are you… I believe I am getting ahead of myself, but are you perhaps dating Ness?” he asked. Unfortunately, Ness piped up right about then. He seemed really nervous and tense all of a sudden.
“Fuzzy pickles yep! We sure are! Fuzzy pickles! Since yesterday, actually, fuzzy pickles!” he exclaimed. Ness looked at me, and knowing his mistake, he started to talk again, but not in the way I expected it…
“Fuzzy pickles fuzzy pickles fuzzy pickles…” he realized nervously. NO! Why?! Couldn’t he have SHUT UP for once?! Mr. Game’s eyes filled up with anger and rage, and he almost looked like his dad, Mr. Watch, when hypnotized as it happened.
“You hypocrite! You say I cannot have love for Emily, yet the next thing I know you have a boyfriend?! And that boyfriend is NESS MICHELIN, of all people you could have possibly picked?! How could you, Amber Tzaziki?!” he screamed, kicking me in the shin hard and rushing off, sobbing the entire way. I wanted to punch the kid right in the face! Mr. Game humiliated me in front of the public! And even worse, Ness told him when I wasn’t ready for Mr. Game to know! I had a thought in the back of my mind that it was related to the fuzzy pickles, but I denied it.
“What the Nether were you thinking?! I wasn’t ready to let him know!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. I was p—No. I stopped myself that time, but how much longer do I have to censor myself?! I wanted to just let Ness have it. I didn’t care where I was. But I had this nagging feeling that there was something else going on.
“Fuzzy pickles…fuzzy pickles! Fuzzy pickles!” he cried loudly, starting to shed tears. I had enough of this.
“I SWEAR TO ARCEUS, IF YOU SAY FUZZY PICKLES ONE MORE TIME, I WILL BREAK UP WITH YOU AND WE’LL NEVER BE FRIENDS AGAIN!!” I screeched.
“A-Amber, if that happened, you w-would want to b-b-be at least ten feet a-away from me! Y-You would have already b-broken up with me! W-W-We would have n-never been friends in t-the f-f-first place! P-Please, I’m begging you Amber, give me a chance to explain…” Ness cried angrily, as if the thing most insecure about him was being attacked. That turned out to be the case.
“Go on,” I said, “but make it quick. You have ONE try.”
“I-I –Amber, it just popped out without me knowing! It–It just happens to me sometimes and I don’t know what to do about it! I can’t control it! That’s…that’s why I say fuzzy pickles in most of my sentences. My counsellor said it was a tic disorder.” confessed Ness. Wow… I would have never thought of something like that. What an idiot I am… And now that I think about it, I think I knew this one kid with somethin’ like that. Can’t remember their name, though…
“I’ve had it since I was about six, but my parents didn’t know what to do about it. It would always get out of hand, especially with Tracy. Most of the time, she was okay with it, but there were times when she couldn’t stand it. Sometimes, well, there was a time where my PK got associated with it. That was the worst. I nearly got arrested for setting a house on fire by accident. It all went away for a while… until about three years ago… and Giygas, when the four of us had to kill him, he changed some of us for good. That’s when my tics returned. It’s never been the same since. Everyone stares at me like I’m an alien, and I have no friends except for you and Mr. Game. That’s how bad it is. My old friends couldn’t stand having me around because almost every sentence had fuzzy pickles in it.” Ness broke down and started crying really hard. I started feeling sympathy for him. I personally didn’t know what it was like to have people staring at you for things you couldn’t change so easily, but I understood thanks to Mr. Game. It must be hard to hide from something when you have people making fun of that same thing. And because Ness was crying, I almost started crying myself. There we were, in front of the Academy of the Interspectacular and the Dark, making ourselves look like emotional teenagers going through a sudden jump in hormones. (And by the way, I can’t turn 13. Or can I…? We’ll have to see when the time comes, but if I’m correct Mr. Game and I had our birthdays already this year due to a glitch the DeCodeHacker can’t fix without killing us. I wonder if it was just us.) Once we finally pulled it together, we went inside and looked for the schedule that showed us where our first class was. The billboard had been moved to the corner of the lobby, and thankfully, we beat the morning rush of random kids trying to get to class. Drumroll, please…
“Are you kidding me? Do I really have to sit through a bunch of haikus again?” I cried. “Not like I even did that in the first place yesterday.” If there was one class I hated, it was either Math or Language Arts (English to those of you actually in high school on Earth), because I can’t do multiplication for the life of me, let alone complicated addition and subtraction, and all we ever do in Lang—sorry, English—is poetry and spelling. I would rather skip that class entirely, though, because I can’t spell a lot of things. I actually don’t know how I did it when I wrote about my feelings to Ness. I took a closer look at the schedule, just to see whether I actually have to sit through a lecture on how many syllables a sentence has to have. And when I did that, I noticed that I was looking at homeroom 142, not homeroom 147.
“Whoops…Ness, never mind. Wrong class. I wonder what we actually have…” I corrected. But Ness had already beat me to the punch.
“Cooking, fuzzy pickles!” he replied. “And as far as I’m aware, this goes up until lunch.” Mr. Watch’s classroom had a tendency for having the strong scent of cookie dough and Poffins, because there’s an afterschool class on baking. I didn't think that'd be problem, though. I was more concerned about how long I'd go without getting bored or leaving the classroom.
“I wonder how long I’ll make it through?” I asked.
“I don’t know, Amber. Let’s get going.” He grabbed me by the hand and headed down the hallway and up the first staircase, taking a left turn on the third chance and waiting by the door for Mr. Game and Emily to—Oh, I’m sorry. Did I forget Emily was jailed? Nope. Not at all. I started getting bored, so I walked around a little bit in the proximity in front of the classroom, and took a drink in the water fountain, because I was really thirsty. But that should’ve been obvious, right? Then I heard Ness call to me from about three or four feet away.
“Fuzzy pickles! Amber, come here!” he cried.
“Okay, coming! Just give me a few more seconds to drink some water…” I yelled back to him before shoving my face back into the water fountain. I need to remember to take care of myself while I’m doing my best to protect Mr. Game, sustain a friendship with Ness, and do my best in school, all while getting stalked and trying to pay my debts!
“No, Amber. You need to get over here now, fuzzy pickles.” he replied. I turned around and saw Ness holding up the blank side of a sticky note, probably from Mr. Stalk-It. Did there really have to be one now, in the middle of a popular hallway when it’s starting to get busy? What if someone snooped on us?
“You’ve gotta be kidding! My Arceus, does it have to be now?!” I replied, forcing myself up and back over to room 233’s doorway. The inside of the hallways had a very clean, glassy look. The flooring was two layers of mirror-like plastic, sandwiching rainbow bits of shrapnel in between. There was a short, black balcony overshadowing the first floor, and if you search hard enough, you can probably find the secret elevator to the staff and board rooms. I’m personally still working on it so I can maybe snatch some of the food for home. It would take a load off our expenses.
“Check this out, fuzzy pickles! You’re lucky I haven’t ripped it this time!” Ness handed me a perfectly clean Stalk-It note, and I read it to myself like I did this morning:
I know you better than you know me. I know everything about you, I know your public ties, I know your schedules, and I know the best way to kill you. You’re never safe in this place called Onett, and even those you think are innocent will betray you in one way or another. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
“So what is this supposed to mean?” I whispered.
“Not sure, Amber. Fuzzy pickles. But they do seem to have been watching what we do at every moment. Fuzzy pickles. That, or they’re just trying to intimidate us.” Ness answered, also in a whisper. I looked to my side and saw Trooper again, walking by and looking sad, but also angry. He noticed me and looked me in the eyes with a look that tried to make him seem calm but didn't.
“Have you seen Kooper? I haven’t seen her since yesterday!” he asked. Before I started looking, I looked at Trooper’s shoes and realized they seemed… worn out. The green cover was peeling off slightly in some places, but underneath were tiny showings of red. I didn’t know Trooper wore red socks.
“What’s up with your shoes?” I asked first, pointing to them.
“Just look for Kooper!” he yelled back angrily.
“Hey! Take it easy, fuzzy pickles! She will! Just leave her alone!” Ness stated, standing up for me.
“I’ll do it now. Let’s see…” I never went to the cafeteria…and I didn’t see her walking home yesterday, but we left late… “Nope, sorry. I haven’t. If I could help you, I would, but I don’t know. I also haven’t seen any trails of food.” I answered, glancing quickly from side to side just in case. I’ll be the first to admit I didn’t try too hard. I couldn’t care less about Kooper right now, because us getting stalked and killed is much more important that finding your sister who will find her way back to you at lunch.
“Of course you don’t! There’s a crumb path right THERE! Do you even have eyes?!” Trooper snapped back at me, pointing at the cake crumbs. He gave me a glare and stomped away.
“What’s up with him?” Ness asked. “Fuzzy pickles.” I was trying to get better at ignoring how fuzzy pickles were such a recurrent thing with Ness, especially since he just told me why, but sometimes it just annoys the Nether outta me! Besides, that was only, like, an hour ago, so maybe I’m trying to rush myself. And on top of that, he’s my boyfriend. But that's only been for a day, so... I think I'm going too fast.
“No idea. He’s been like that since we told him he couldn’t go to Superflat City with us. Remember that, back when we had to find that article? I wonder why they’d only publish that information in a newspaper.” I responded.
“Heh heh, yeah. It didn’t—”
“Well well well, what do we have here?” Mr. Game. He had come from behind me, with an angry look still gracing his face. It felt strange to have my adopted son acting in a way that was so far away from the Mr. Game that I knew… It scared me. It was like Tanya had a strong influence on him again.
“Waiting for first class, hmmm? So am I. I came here only to see Father.” He walked into the room, and as Mr. Game opened the door, a waft of coffee and burnt sugar cookies flew in my face.
“Ness, do you think that maybe he’s short-circuiting?”I asked. A short-circuit is a breakdown of the mind that happens from lack of life necessities. As far as I’m aware, it happens when… um… Damn! I should pay more attention in Science! But anyway, the symptoms I know of can be a sudden language change (usually to either Japanese), frequent bizarre behaviours involving mirages, passing out a lot, and becoming extremely emotional, to the point of being unnatural to those around you. And unlike the last time I explained this to you (if you were even there), none of those are fake this time.
“Yeah, he probably is.”Ness replied. “But back to our topic with Trooper—”
“Maybe something happened to one of the Kamokawas. Remember when we had that sleepover while Mr. Game was gone?” I suggested. “When we played Truth or Dare and everyone had to say what meant the most to them, Trooper said that was April and Kooper. I dunno. Maybe he’s just in a bad mood.” And then an announcement rang through the school halls.
“Good morning, students of the Academy! Mr. Watch is… sick… today, and I, Mrs. Ketchum, will be filling in for him today, though I will only be doing his principal duties. Now onto the morning announcements!” rang the intercom. Huh. Mr. Watch is supposedly sick today. I’ll bet you 5 Pokos he’s actually taking today off because he’s shocked Mr. Game won the court case.
“Well then. I wonder what Mr. Game’s reaction was to that, fuzzy pickles.” replied Ness. “Otherwise, let’s get inside. The first class will be starting in about six minutes. Fuzzy pickles, we don’t want to be late!”
“You have a good point. Neither do I,” I answered, and we entered the classroom together as the first bell rang.
When Amber told me to get ready for school, I knew I had my chance to find the bank credentials. I quickly threw on my tank top and shorts from yesterday and hurried into her room, scanning as quickly as possible for the cabinet where Amber keeps all her important documents.
“Where is it?” I muttered to myself. Glancing sideways, I noticed there were a few small stacks of papers on Amber’s desk, so I hurried over to check for the documents I needed. I picked up the stacks and started to look through them.
“Hey, Mr. Game! When’ll you be ready?” called Amber from the living room. “Ness is here! He kinda wants to see you, too!” Oh no, oh no, oh no. I was running out of time! I was frightened.
“P-Please…E-E-Emily…” I responded, pretending as if I were about to cry. Amber didn’t say anything back. She continued to talk to Ness about the note last night. Whew. I kept shuffling documents through my hands, but almost every single one of them was a drawing. No! Now I will never—What is this? In my hand, at the very top of the pile, there was a map Amber drew in her hand showing where everything was. And on the back of that sheet, there was this note:
Documents are in the binder behind my bed. Gotta remember that! Each tab represents a different section. Medical records are at the very front. Behind is all the government crap. The third section is for banking. It also has my debit card in there in case I forget. Fourth section is for the house, so bills and stuff. And finally, the last part is for anything I haven’t done yet. I should really think about abeling those tabs soon.
This was exactly what I needed! I dropped the papers and went directly for the binder…but I ran into yet another problem.
“I’ll be right back, Ness. I’ve gotta put Mr. Game’s laundry in the wash machine and grab something from my room, okay?” Amber told Ness. Shoot. I cannot be caught doing this! I scrambled through the pages of the binder and found what I was looking, and then I pulled the page from its binder cover and folded it nicely, shoving it in my pocket. I sighed in relief. I should be fine to leave now.
“Okay, laundry done! Just lemme grab my PokeGear from my room!” said Amber. Wait—I have to clean everything! This is bad! I rushed to finish everything, messily stacking everything back together and putting away the binder before running back into my room when Amber could not see me. Oh my Arceus… I did it… I did it! I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, and then I finally came out from the hallway of rooms to visit. We talked a little and then left for school, when I found out Amber was in love with Ness.
“You hypocrite! You say I cannot have love for Emily, yet the next thing I know you have a boyfriend?! And that boyfriend is NESS MICHELIN, of all people you could have possibly picked?! How could you, Amber Tzaziki?!” I shouted. I was simply so confused. Amber always refused to date or anything of the like! I thought back to when she and I first met Ness and his sister, Tracy. Amber had been adamant in catching him so she could meet her video game idol. I never thought it would ever come to this! And to think her first words about Ness in Onett were these:
“Ugh. No, I don’t think he’s hot! I just think I know him from somewhere. And against your point, we’re following him! Don’t get lost trying to follow me!”
I had no time to think about anything. I have had it with Amber and Ness!
“You will pay for this, Amber Tzaziki.” I threatened as I ran away from the two of them. They promptly began to fight, meaning I had more time to reach the Academy of the Interspectculars and the Dark and find my first class. Finding a hill away from everyone else, I sat myself down onto the grass and pulled out the key items from my pockets. (You would not know I had them because my clothing blends in fairly well with my skin colour. I like it that way because it makes me less noticeable to those around me.) Inside was the paper and Amber’s debit card. Unfolding the paper, I looked at them carefully and tried to memorize the writing:
Royal Bank of Onett – because one is better than two, three, or four
Client Name: Amber Tzaziki
PIN: 4263
I still cannot believe I managed to pull it off! I should not have been able to grab this all in time, but somehow, I did. And now, part of me feels terrible for abusing Amber’s forgiveness. I knew if I went ahead with this, terrible things would come from it. But I was ready to take the consequences I needed to, even though that consequence would cause something I never thought would happen. I was starting to get a clear image of how I would free Emily. I would attend my first classes (or class) to lower suspicion, the best class being Science because Amber has issues with dissections. When lunchtime comes, I will leave for the Onett Bank, and withdraw Amber’s entire balance, and then head straight for the Jail for Onett’s Guilty, dumping the Pokos onto the front desk and exiting with Emily Quartam, my one and only. I am determined to make that the case. Yesterday, I declared I was going to change things for myself, so to not follow through with that would make me a desperate loser like Amber likes to call others. I then noticed a Post-It note fluttering through the air, gliding slowly through the midsummer sky as it fell to the ground. Snatching it straight from the air, I un-crumpled it and realized it was meant for me:
As this reaches you, it is 8:34 am. Emily will be mine at 12:00 pm. Make your choices wisely, Barry. Time is very little for you. Don’t think I’ll be lenient, either.
Oh no… Lunch begins at 11:47 am. To get to the Royal Bank of Onett from the Academy takes only about six minutes, but to get from the bank to the Onett Penitentiary takes twenty minutes on foot. That throws me off the tracks much farther than I need to be. I would have to adjust my schedule to fit the time crunch… which also meant I would have to miss a class. But what good does staying in class do if I will only be picked on? At that time, a boy approached me, having seen the Post-It Note fly through the sky and to me. He looked around my age or younger, with short brown hair and long sideburns. His bangs were spiked, and he wore a red tee shirt with a teal number one on it, and gray shorts that looked as if they'd been through many different events. His shoes were blue with white highlights, nearly hiding his short green socks, and in one hand, he held a gingerbread cookie, and in the other, a stuffed husky that showed obvious signs of how old and well-used it had been. His appearance resembled that of Benjamin the Killager, a Lamina-native who had supposedly killed someone in their past.
“What's that? Can I see?” he asked, pointing to the Post-It note. He had an innocent charm that admittedly almost made me give it to him… but no. Sorry, no. As innocent he may seem now, I cannot tell this boy about the stalker. What will he do if I say no? His seemingly innocent demeanour scared me. I was afraid he might attack me, as with everyone else of which their desires I cannot satiate.
“I am sorry, but I cannot let you see this. Confidential information,” I declined. The boy tried again, coming closer and trying to peer over my shoulder. I quickly crumpled the note and moved it where the boy couldn't see it, but he was insistent.
“Can see that?” he asked, a bit more angry than the last time.
“I just told you no! I cannot let you see this.” I replied, raising my voice. The boy tensed his fists around his cookie, crushing it into crumbles.
“Let me see that!” he shouted, starting to breathe heavily. There was a girl behind him, with short pink hair flicked to the sides. She wore a pink short-sleeved dress with a daisy on it, and striped white and blue tights with red shoes.
“Calm down, Benji! He said no. Leave him alone!” she scolded, pulling the boy away from me. He started to regain himself. Hmm. So the boy’s name is Benjamin… as in Benjamin the Killager? No wonder I was scared. I would have to ask about the rumours, at the very least.
“Sorry about that. Benjamin has a few… social issues. By the way, my name’s Sakura Anaman!” she apologized. “This is Benjamin Cloviet.”
“Nice to meet you. You may call me Mr. Game,” I greeted. Sakura seemed to be kind enough. She did not look like someone who had intentions on hurting me. However, it was Benjamin who had me concerned for my safety. After all, people say he has murdered someone...
“This may not be any of my business, but are the Killager rumours true? Has Benjamin really killed someone?” Benjamin's eyes seemed to flash with pain for a brief moment, but it was so fast I believe I was simply seeing things.
“Nope! Never kill anyone! Can't hurt!” answered Benjamin. He seemed to have a strange way of talking: a perfect Nookville accent with hints of a French accent in it, but with broken English. He hugged his stuffed husky tightly and promptly ran up to Sakura, hugging her as well. “Can’t hurt, Sakura!”
“Umm… why is he being… strange?” I asked.
“Oh, sorry! Um... I don't know if Benji would be too happy with me answering that,” Sakura explained. "But I can tell you this: If that redhead chick was here, she wouldn't exactly be the nicest about it. Come talk to me one-on-one and we can discuss it if you like." Oh. Um... I do not exactly know if this is a matter I should be involving myself in. If I said something hurtful or offensive without realizing it, I could lose out on making another friend or two. After all, I have met people with many differences over the years. If Amber were here in place of me, I am sure she would start going off on a hurtful tangent. Was that who Sakura was referring to as a redhead chick?
“I see. Um, I must head off to class now, so may I ask what your homeroom is? We may have our classes together,” I replied.
“Room 147! I like Watch’s cooking! Want cookies! Cookies!” Benjamin exclaimed as he ran off towards the Academy, spreading his arms out widely and jumping excitedly as he disappeared into the horizon.
“Hey, you know that girl Amber? The redhead chick I mentioned earlier?” Sakura asked me with an annoyed tone. Oh no. Here we go again with the hatred on Amber...
“Um, yes. She is my legal guardian.” I replied.
“You know her in that way? Well, she’s a jerk. A complete, total, jerk. When you see her again, tell her I’m out to get her,” she finished, walking away after Benjamin and dragging her feet. Admittedly, all that was fairly awkward. To have some kid walk up to you, threaten you, and then… It is unexplainable. Will they be helpful to Amber and I? Most likely not, since Sakura already seems to have some form of hatred for Amber. But Benjamin does not seem to understand this hatred Sakura has. Maybe he will treat us with kindness, as I will to him. I then remembered I had to go see my classes for today, since they have not released a proper schedule yet, so I ran into the main lobby to find out. Finding the billboard, it was easy to find Room 147, for it was the very first homeroom number on the sheet.
Home economics. During the cooking unit? I reacted to myself. Ugh… why? I cannot cook for my life. I have tried before, in my classes back in Superflat City, but I always ended up charring everything to the point of inedibility due to not knowing the conversion between Fahrenheit and Celsius and finicky ovens. I guess I will just have to bear it for now. Looking for my second class, I scanned the sheet, but there were no other classes before lunch.
“There is no class before lunch but home economics?” I asked the person next to me… a familiar face. It was Paula Polestar. Three weeks ago, she was the one who decided to pick on me everyday in the cafeteria. I wanted to seek help, but Paula had threatened to hurt Amber and Emily should I have gone through with it. I have not spoken to her since, for I fear she will make hurtful remarks about me once again. She had a red bow propped up in her hair neatly, and a plain pink dress with pleats in it (or so I think I think it is called). Her sleeves were puffed, and she had long white socks that made her lilac... what did Emily call them... Mary-Janes stand out. Emily often tells me about the latest fashion trends and why she wishes the popular girls would give her a chance to explain her ideas, but though I cannot understand a single word she speaks about it, I listen because it makes me feel good to have someone who even wants to talk with me. Then, of course, there are Amber, Ness, and Tracy, but all Tracy does is poke me and the other two are around me so much they are basically my family.
“Oh, they’re stalling time for an assembly this afternoon. It’s the last thing of the day, but I’ve heard they’re going pretty big with—Barry? It’s you!” she started to explain, before realizing who I was. “Have things been going well since you died and Amber brought you back?” How was I supposed to answer that? I had died temporarily, after all!
“Good…I suppose. I am presuming you watched Judge Garland yesterday?” I replied. “I think you would have, but I cannot say for sure because you have telepathy.”
“Oh, almost everyone in the school watched it, myself included. They’re sad that Emily got jailed, but everyone’s glad you guys aren’t really murderers. Especially you.” Paula answered. Why were they glad I was not dangerous? I mean nothing to most people! “I’m going to get to class now. My homeroom didn’t change, but I think that’s actually a good thing,” she stated, walking towards the gym. She turned back for a moment. “Oh, and Barry… Sorry about three weeks ago. I only meant the best for you and Amber.” She still calls me Barry! I hate that! But at the very least, she did not insult me. I wondered if Paula actually meant what she said, if she was actually remorseful for bullying me, and whether she really did mean for the best. I walked hurriedly down the hallway and up the first staircase I saw, taking the third left and arriving at my class. Amber and Ness were waiting by the door, looking over a Post-It Note and talking about something. I was still very angry at Amber for keeping a secret from me, and being a hypocrite, and I wanted nothing to do with her at this moment in time.
“Well well well, what do we have here?” I said, in an angry tone. “Waiting for first class, hmmm? I came here only to see Father.” I opened the door to the classroom, and as I walked in, I saw a face I never thought I would ever see; a face I did not recognize. The man in front of me was clearly from Lamina. He had silver hair that fell in his face and skin that looked almost orange, but a little yellow as well. His blue T-shirt with a red and black checkered one on it looked a lot like Benjamin's own shirt, and he wore grey jeans, but seemed to be barefoot or in sandals.
“Why, hello there! You're here early,” the teacher said. “I’ll be filling in for Mr. Watch today.” Who was this teacher? It was strange to me seeing a substitute in a classroom. Teachers rarely take sick days here at the Academy. In the way my father would, he had prepared gingerbread cookies for the class.
"My name is Mr. Jeremy Baker. I'm actually a student teacher looking to go into Chemistry 11, which is probably why you're giving me that confused look, but I'm subbing here today because whoever normally teaches this class asked me to." So this was who this teacher was... Huh. He seemed rather clueless about the class to me. I took a seat in the front row and noticed Benjamin sitting in a chair next to the cookie tray, taking a cookie for himself and devouring it. He turned around and saw me, nodding and pointing to said cookies.
“See? See? I told you! Cookies!” he exclaimed. “Sakura won’t know! Comes late!” Although I was tempted by the sight of food, I did not need any cookies at the moment. I am merely interested in finding the time to escape class on time so I can save Emily. I turned back to Mr. Baker, who was now sitting at Father's desk playing with a chemistry set.
"May I ask what the lesson plan for today is, if you are willing to solicit that information?” I asked. Mr. Baker picked up a binder, opening it and flipping to a certain page before lowering it and answering.
“Mr. Watch has only told me that the TV remote will be useful. Do you know what that means? I don’t.” he said, confused. But while he did not know what Father had meant, I certainly did. My mission would be much more challenging than before, on top of everything else! Why?!
“Oh, I know exactly what he wants you to do. See, the TVs have a VCR attached, and if I am correct, Mr. Watch should have a tape in there with the entire series of Cookmaster Teen Edition on it.” I explained. I avoided mentioning the fact that he was my father, for Mr. Baker may take it seriously and force me to stay in class. But now, rescuing Emily will be near impossible. Father decided today was the day he was going to showcase what he did for a living before teaching? Father used to be a very famous cook. He managed to obtain a job on the most famous youth cooking competition show in Quartasia as one of the main judges, and during that job he met Mother for the first time, having been a contestant. She did not win, but she won in the fact that she had met her future husband. The bell rang as I was finally able to gather myself, and Amber and Ness were the first ones in. They looked slightly worried, but when they saw me, Ness pulled Amber away, so I knew I would not have to converse with them. That was a relief. Soon after, the other students in my homeroom piled in, doing typical teenage things and sitting down by their friends. Mr. Baker watched worriedly as he fumbled with the TV remote.
“Oh no… You there. Could you give me a hand?” he mumbled, pointing to me.
“Sure. What is it you need help with?” I asked. Walking back to Father’s desk, I found our substitute desperately mashing buttons, pointing to the TV and stressing over getting today’s lesson even started.
“I can’t seem to get the TV working… I’m pointing the remote at it and everything,” stated Mr. Baker. He handed me the remote. “Can you see if I’m doing something wrong?” I briefly scanned the remote, flipping it over to its backside and opening the battery case. And when I looked inside, I found no batteries.
“Perhaps you should try checking whether batteries are inside the remote next time. That is what the issue seems to be.” I answered, handing back the remote and heading back to my desk. It was only then that Mr. Baker was able to figure out how to start the day’s lesson. “All right, students! As you may know already, Mr. Watch couldn’t make it to work today, so he prepared a special VCR tape and left me in charge of the lesson,” he started, forgetting to introduce himself. Benjamin looked up at the TV and seemed to be confused, as if something did not make sense to him.
“Why VCR?” called Benjamin. He seems to ask about everything…
“Oh, um, it was already there, I guess,” replied Mr. Baker, rushing through the menus and mashing yet more buttons on the remote. The TV flickered for a few moments, the video grainy while the TV warmed up, but soon the first episode was rolling just fine. I knew exactly how every episode started: The top twenty-four contestants would run into the kitchen battlegrounds, every one of them overly excited. This was followed by a brief blurb about the show, its prizing for being deemed the very best chef out of everyone, and the judges. My father, referred to as James Cook—perhaps to make his name more literal to those watching—was focused upon as the head judge amongst two other teen chefs I had never heard of. He seemed to have it perfect on set, for a smile was almost always on his face, and he would sometimes even cook amongst the contestants as a challenge for himself. His childhood seemed to be that of paradise. I would never normally utter such words in any situation, but… Damn it. I wish life was good for me like it was for Father.
“Now who wants some gingerbread cookies?” Mr. Baker asked, holding up the tray high enough so everyone could see what was on it. The entire class nearly erupted with noise, most people praising him for supposedly knowing what Mr. Watch did like the back of his hand. But this made me angry, for I could not focus on the TV show and its audio. And I snapped.
“SHUT UP! I AM TRYING TO WATCH THE TELEVISION, IF YOU DO NOT MIND!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. There was silence for a short while.
“What a jerk. Why don’t you kick him out for that?” stated a student, an Inkling that had transferred from Inkling Immersion to our side of the Academy.
“I can’t kick him out for one thing, Melissa. Barry, you should know better than to scream like that,” Mr. Baker explained to her, before turning to scold me. “There are other classes going on, you know. And everyone else here is trying to watch the show as well.” W-what… That is why I got angry! Is he completely oblivious?
“But that is why—”
“Not now, Barry. Just watch the TV show.” He interrupted. Ugh… Sometimes, people just do not have proper logic for punishments. At least I was not actually kicked put. The four contestants competing in the episode came onto the screen. Each had a short explanation of where they were from and why they decided to pursue cooking as a profession. And the second of those four in the episode was Mother. Her name before marriage was Brittney Abura-Gemu, and she wanted to go into cooking because she wanted to help the less fortunate. My mother was a very charitable person before falling under the influence of the Quartam Scepter. It made me feel good to know my parents truly had good hearts. As the episode played and the first mystery box was opened, the contestants rushed off to their stations and Father joined in the cooking himself. But after gathering his ingredients, he did not start to cook, but rather get to know the other contestants. The kitchen was a wide, gray area with four different stations for cooking. To the right of the last station, there was a free-roam pantry, and in front of the stations was the judges’ table. The floor was concrete. Nervously, Father approached Mother and started to ask about the dish she was going to make with the ingredients.
“Um, hello there, Brittany. W-what are you planning to do with the mystery box ingredients?” he asked on the show, extremely nervous. He was slightly twitchy for the entire episode, until he eliminated Mother in the entrée round for raw pork chops. The room I myself happened to be in a kitchen space, with six cooking stations in the back of the room. In front of that were desks like the ones in the English room: granite-coloured lids you could lift up to store things inside, with gray table legs holding it upright. Like nearly every desk in a high school, chewed gum had been stuck to the underside, and offensive graffiti was written on the inside of the desks. The floor was a beige and pale orange tile set, and the cupboards and overhanging wooden frame was made of a light yellow birch wood. Most students were on their PokéGears texting or surfing the internet, but Amber and Ness were whispering to each other.
“…He’s had enough for a while. I wish he knew when to take a break, fuzzy pickles!” muttered Ness to Amber.
“Just use one of your PSI powers. You can put people to sleep with one, right?” Amber replied. Ness shook his head.
“Maybe, if I have enough power. Fuzzy pickles, I don’t run off an energy outlet! Fuzzy pickles!” Their conversation became quieter, preventing me from fully listening in, but I felt like something was about to happen. Had I known exactly what they were talking about, I would have left the room in an attempt to avoid an incident. Nonetheless, I decided to watch the cooking show for a few more minutes. At this moment in time, the first contestant was being eliminated for his lack of seasoning and culinary taste for a fish sticks appetizer. Benjamin had started to stare obsessively at Ness with a mystified look in his eyes, of whom seemed to be having a headache, and Mr. Baker was confiscating PokéGears from unruly students. A sparkling noise began to fill the room, posing a mystery to me. What could that be? I thought to myself. Surely this cannot be the television! I looked behind me, once again at Ness. His pointer and middle fingers were pressing on his forehead, and in his other hand, which was resting on Amber’s shoulder, a gray ball of energy started to form. PSI powers at a time like this? The ball grew to about the size of an orange, and Ness lifted the pressure off his forehead. It floated lightly above his pointer and middle fingers, which were pressed together.
“You’re actually gonna do it?” Amber asked.
“Yes. He deserves the rest,” Ness responded. Ness raised his arm, and made a throwing motion towards my eyes—
I am dreaming again. Ness had put me to sleep! My plan to bail out Emily is in—wait… A vision?… A young boy sat atop a tree in the middle of a forest, on the highest branch. He cried heavily, his clothes torn and stained with blood, and he held a bloody axe in his hands. Somehow, I knew the day and time: It was April 27, 2008, at 11:02 am. The boy rubbed his eyes for a while and shoved his face into his hands.
“Where y-you? C-Come b-b-back... please...” he sobbed. From lower down, a young man with black hair, a tan fedora, a blue business suit, and a red tie and grey pants was climbing up the tree, being careful not to lose his grip and fall down––something he had almost failed when he started embarking up the bark of the tree. He approached the branch where the boy was perched and attempted to gain his attention.
“Hey, are you okay?” asked the man. He seemed to have trouble gripping onto the tree.
The boy tried to back up, but couldn’t. He started to flip his lid, becoming frightened by the man’s attire. He appeared to be a policeman, even to myself. “NO! NO! POLICEMAN GO AWAY! YOU NEVER CATCH ME!” The man sighed and tried to comfort the boy, taking off his shiny gold badge.
“Benjamin Cloviet, I’m not a policeman. I haven’t been chasing you through night and day. I’m just here to help make sure you’re proven innocent.”
“GO AWAY! GO AWAY!” So this is Benjamin in his past? Why am I seeing this? Is this a dream or a sort of flashback?
The man wasn’t getting anywhere fast. His outfit had frightened Benjamin, causing him to mistake the man for a policeman. A young girl was still down on the ground, but she had quite the voice and yelled up to him.
“Hey Al! Try presenting that cookie from your breakfast! That’ll get him calm again!” Hmm... so the man is named Al. Why is this name familiar...? What exactly did the girl mean by presenting, and how would this man even do that?
“What do you mean, I have to present it? Can you explain that?”
“Silly lawyer! Just show him what you need him to talk about, and depending on what it is, he’ll tell you what he knows!” Al pulled out his suitcase and pulled out a gingerbread cookie, sighing and handing it to young Benjamin.
“Look at me, alright? I’m not here to hurt you. See? I even brought you a gingerbread cookie––your favorite!”
Benjamin’s eyes lit up upon seeing the cookie brought just for him, despite still heavily crying. He grabbed it fiercely from Al’s hands and devoured it. It could have easily been less than fifteen seconds before he was finished.
“T-Thank you. A-Are you policeman?”
“N-No. I just said I wasn’t. My name is Al Catraz; I’m a defense attorney. I’m here to help you.”
“Help? How? How help me?”
“Well, I understand this might be a hard thing for you to talk about, but your parents died last night, right?”
“...” Benjamin stayed quiet. The same pain I thought I had seen flashed through his eyes fiercely.
“I don’t have any autopsy reports yet. I don’t even have any evidence. But I’m going to find it and I’m going to prove you weren’t the one who killed them.” The two looked at each other, seeming to communicate mutual agreement, before Benjamin spoke up again.
“Help get down. Help get down from tree." Al started to think to himself before being caught off-guard by the object next to Benjamin. Propped up next to Benjamin was a sharp, silver axe. It was actually clean for the most part, but the very edge was caked with blood. There was no way anything would be able to wash it off, even by sticking it into a tree or washing it.
“WHY IS THERE AN AXE STAINED WITH BLOOD NEXT TO YOU?!” Al screamed, horrified. Once again, he almost fell to his death, but he grabbed onto yet another branch and watched his life flash before his eyes. Regaining his composure, he got back up and continued to stare at Benjamin and the axe.
“Um... umm, uhh...” Benjamin started to get nervous. Why was he cracking under pressure so early?
“What is it about that axe? Did they use that to kill your parents?”
“Mmph... Nuuuuuhh...” Benjamin was close to tears again. He was ready to break down on the spot. Al knew he hit the right spot when this happened. “USED IT! USED IT TO KILL MOMMY AND DADDY!! Waaahahhahhh...”
I felt quite terrible seeing Benjamin cry. He must've been scarred pretty badly by whatever he had seen. Now Al had to carry him down to safety, which I did not see as too big a challenge.
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Your friend Sakura’s waiting for you at the bottom. Why don’t we go see her?”
He picked up Benjamin and the axe, and slowly tried to make his way back down. The next thing I knew, I was watching Al, Benjamin, and two others, all of whom were in a 2006 Ford Focus. Al seemed to have just recovered from breathing in too much smoke, as his breaths were heavy and rather fast, and since Benjamin did not seem to be pre-occupied, I presume he thought it would be a good time to ask him a few questions.
“Hey Benjamin, can you tell me a bit about yourself?” asked Al, turning around to look Benjamin in the eyes.
“...Benji.” What was that going to tell Al? I myself could not even understand where that response came from.
“Uhh... can you tell me about yourself?”
“Benji.” The girl stepped in this time, knowing Al was not going to stay calm for long if he did not know why Benjamin was not answering.
“Silly lawyer! He just doesn’t like it when you call him by his full name! Just call him Benji. You gave him the cookie, so he’ll talk to you,” she explained.
“Ahh, I get it now! Thanks, Sakura.” He nodded and turned back to Benjamin. So the girl was Sakura, too... Why do I have the feeling this is important? “So Benji, can you tell me a bit about yourself?”
“Seven years old. Go to Tom Nook Elementary. Not sure name of teacher class. ...Nothing important say.”
“I’m sure there’s something you like, right? Everything you say is important to me.” Al seemed to be trying his best to comfort Benjamin, which made me proud. I knew the feeling of having to be comforted too many times...
“Like making stories and daydreaming. Staring at clouds and staring at stars. Getting out of world, into big make-believe world, away from everyone.”
Al thought about Benjamin’s answer. It was not like that of normal people. The way he spoke also seemed to be like that of his present-day counterpart. Was there a reason I was seeing these events? Do I have something to do with Benjamin in the future? Did Ness's PSI forge this?
“Cool!” Al did not seem sure what he should do next. He stared Benjamin down with a comforting look, before Benjamin's expression went blank. His eyes filled with a mystical clairvoyance I had only seen once before.
“...I look into eyes, and I can read minds. Can do with any. You want know about night of murder?”
“Of course! I think your little power is really spectacular, too!” Al was trying to be friendly to Benjamin so he could get info out of him, but I had a feeling the two would come to be close friends.
“It was close 9:45 at night. Mommy and Daddy have lots people over. All eating dinner, me at table by TV. I go outside to get Pedro, but when come back in... SLASH!! Daddy falls to ground dead. Man come in behind and started kill. Other people run outside; don’t come back. Mommy jumps out of seat. Screams loud. Axeman swings and leans over. SLASH!! Mommy falls to ground dead. I... I can’t remember happened after.” Benjamin was close to crying again. The poor boy had seen his parents’ death and had nowhere to run to. He seemed quite terrified. I know how it feels, seeing things you should not have. Seeing death, seeing injury... Movies only sugarcoat how painful the events actually are.
“You don’t remember anything else?”
“No.”
“Then why did we find you all the way in Viridian Forest? It’s an hour long drive from Nookville! Who knows how long it would be walking?” Benjamin hung his head low. He seemed to remember something, for his eyes suddenly went wide and he looked up at Al with a scared face.
“Remember what happened after. Pinned to wall, man holding scary thing next to here.” Benjamin pointed to where his heart was. “Suddenly, backed off. Made bang and arm started hurting really bad. Fell over and screamed. Don’t remember happened after, but ran out through porch door and on side of road. Kept running. Never tired.”
“Huh. And how long do you think it took to get to Viridian Forest?”
“Umm, half hour maybe.”
It was then when the dream started to fade. I was starting to regain my senses after my unintentional slumber, and my surroundings were coming back to me. Blearily, I fumbled fro my PokéGear, and I nearly panicked when I saw how much time I had left to complete my mission.
The time, you ask? 11:01 am.
“Where is it?” I muttered to myself. Glancing sideways, I noticed there were a few small stacks of papers on Amber’s desk, so I hurried over to check for the documents I needed. I picked up the stacks and started to look through them.
“Hey, Mr. Game! When’ll you be ready?” called Amber from the living room. “Ness is here! He kinda wants to see you, too!” Oh no, oh no, oh no. I was running out of time! I was frightened.
“P-Please…E-E-Emily…” I responded, pretending as if I were about to cry. Amber didn’t say anything back. She continued to talk to Ness about the note last night. Whew. I kept shuffling documents through my hands, but almost every single one of them was a drawing. No! Now I will never—What is this? In my hand, at the very top of the pile, there was a map Amber drew in her hand showing where everything was. And on the back of that sheet, there was this note:
Documents are in the binder behind my bed. Gotta remember that! Each tab represents a different section. Medical records are at the very front. Behind is all the government crap. The third section is for banking. It also has my debit card in there in case I forget. Fourth section is for the house, so bills and stuff. And finally, the last part is for anything I haven’t done yet. I should really think about abeling those tabs soon.
This was exactly what I needed! I dropped the papers and went directly for the binder…but I ran into yet another problem.
“I’ll be right back, Ness. I’ve gotta put Mr. Game’s laundry in the wash machine and grab something from my room, okay?” Amber told Ness. Shoot. I cannot be caught doing this! I scrambled through the pages of the binder and found what I was looking, and then I pulled the page from its binder cover and folded it nicely, shoving it in my pocket. I sighed in relief. I should be fine to leave now.
“Okay, laundry done! Just lemme grab my PokeGear from my room!” said Amber. Wait—I have to clean everything! This is bad! I rushed to finish everything, messily stacking everything back together and putting away the binder before running back into my room when Amber could not see me. Oh my Arceus… I did it… I did it! I went into the bathroom and brushed my teeth, and then I finally came out from the hallway of rooms to visit. We talked a little and then left for school, when I found out Amber was in love with Ness.
“You hypocrite! You say I cannot have love for Emily, yet the next thing I know you have a boyfriend?! And that boyfriend is NESS MICHELIN, of all people you could have possibly picked?! How could you, Amber Tzaziki?!” I shouted. I was simply so confused. Amber always refused to date or anything of the like! I thought back to when she and I first met Ness and his sister, Tracy. Amber had been adamant in catching him so she could meet her video game idol. I never thought it would ever come to this! And to think her first words about Ness in Onett were these:
“Ugh. No, I don’t think he’s hot! I just think I know him from somewhere. And against your point, we’re following him! Don’t get lost trying to follow me!”
I had no time to think about anything. I have had it with Amber and Ness!
“You will pay for this, Amber Tzaziki.” I threatened as I ran away from the two of them. They promptly began to fight, meaning I had more time to reach the Academy of the Interspectculars and the Dark and find my first class. Finding a hill away from everyone else, I sat myself down onto the grass and pulled out the key items from my pockets. (You would not know I had them because my clothing blends in fairly well with my skin colour. I like it that way because it makes me less noticeable to those around me.) Inside was the paper and Amber’s debit card. Unfolding the paper, I looked at them carefully and tried to memorize the writing:
Royal Bank of Onett – because one is better than two, three, or four
Client Name: Amber Tzaziki
PIN: 4263
I still cannot believe I managed to pull it off! I should not have been able to grab this all in time, but somehow, I did. And now, part of me feels terrible for abusing Amber’s forgiveness. I knew if I went ahead with this, terrible things would come from it. But I was ready to take the consequences I needed to, even though that consequence would cause something I never thought would happen. I was starting to get a clear image of how I would free Emily. I would attend my first classes (or class) to lower suspicion, the best class being Science because Amber has issues with dissections. When lunchtime comes, I will leave for the Onett Bank, and withdraw Amber’s entire balance, and then head straight for the Jail for Onett’s Guilty, dumping the Pokos onto the front desk and exiting with Emily Quartam, my one and only. I am determined to make that the case. Yesterday, I declared I was going to change things for myself, so to not follow through with that would make me a desperate loser like Amber likes to call others. I then noticed a Post-It note fluttering through the air, gliding slowly through the midsummer sky as it fell to the ground. Snatching it straight from the air, I un-crumpled it and realized it was meant for me:
As this reaches you, it is 8:34 am. Emily will be mine at 12:00 pm. Make your choices wisely, Barry. Time is very little for you. Don’t think I’ll be lenient, either.
Oh no… Lunch begins at 11:47 am. To get to the Royal Bank of Onett from the Academy takes only about six minutes, but to get from the bank to the Onett Penitentiary takes twenty minutes on foot. That throws me off the tracks much farther than I need to be. I would have to adjust my schedule to fit the time crunch… which also meant I would have to miss a class. But what good does staying in class do if I will only be picked on? At that time, a boy approached me, having seen the Post-It Note fly through the sky and to me. He looked around my age or younger, with short brown hair and long sideburns. His bangs were spiked, and he wore a red tee shirt with a teal number one on it, and gray shorts that looked as if they'd been through many different events. His shoes were blue with white highlights, nearly hiding his short green socks, and in one hand, he held a gingerbread cookie, and in the other, a stuffed husky that showed obvious signs of how old and well-used it had been. His appearance resembled that of Benjamin the Killager, a Lamina-native who had supposedly killed someone in their past.
“What's that? Can I see?” he asked, pointing to the Post-It note. He had an innocent charm that admittedly almost made me give it to him… but no. Sorry, no. As innocent he may seem now, I cannot tell this boy about the stalker. What will he do if I say no? His seemingly innocent demeanour scared me. I was afraid he might attack me, as with everyone else of which their desires I cannot satiate.
“I am sorry, but I cannot let you see this. Confidential information,” I declined. The boy tried again, coming closer and trying to peer over my shoulder. I quickly crumpled the note and moved it where the boy couldn't see it, but he was insistent.
“Can see that?” he asked, a bit more angry than the last time.
“I just told you no! I cannot let you see this.” I replied, raising my voice. The boy tensed his fists around his cookie, crushing it into crumbles.
“Let me see that!” he shouted, starting to breathe heavily. There was a girl behind him, with short pink hair flicked to the sides. She wore a pink short-sleeved dress with a daisy on it, and striped white and blue tights with red shoes.
“Calm down, Benji! He said no. Leave him alone!” she scolded, pulling the boy away from me. He started to regain himself. Hmm. So the boy’s name is Benjamin… as in Benjamin the Killager? No wonder I was scared. I would have to ask about the rumours, at the very least.
“Sorry about that. Benjamin has a few… social issues. By the way, my name’s Sakura Anaman!” she apologized. “This is Benjamin Cloviet.”
“Nice to meet you. You may call me Mr. Game,” I greeted. Sakura seemed to be kind enough. She did not look like someone who had intentions on hurting me. However, it was Benjamin who had me concerned for my safety. After all, people say he has murdered someone...
“This may not be any of my business, but are the Killager rumours true? Has Benjamin really killed someone?” Benjamin's eyes seemed to flash with pain for a brief moment, but it was so fast I believe I was simply seeing things.
“Nope! Never kill anyone! Can't hurt!” answered Benjamin. He seemed to have a strange way of talking: a perfect Nookville accent with hints of a French accent in it, but with broken English. He hugged his stuffed husky tightly and promptly ran up to Sakura, hugging her as well. “Can’t hurt, Sakura!”
“Umm… why is he being… strange?” I asked.
“Oh, sorry! Um... I don't know if Benji would be too happy with me answering that,” Sakura explained. "But I can tell you this: If that redhead chick was here, she wouldn't exactly be the nicest about it. Come talk to me one-on-one and we can discuss it if you like." Oh. Um... I do not exactly know if this is a matter I should be involving myself in. If I said something hurtful or offensive without realizing it, I could lose out on making another friend or two. After all, I have met people with many differences over the years. If Amber were here in place of me, I am sure she would start going off on a hurtful tangent. Was that who Sakura was referring to as a redhead chick?
“I see. Um, I must head off to class now, so may I ask what your homeroom is? We may have our classes together,” I replied.
“Room 147! I like Watch’s cooking! Want cookies! Cookies!” Benjamin exclaimed as he ran off towards the Academy, spreading his arms out widely and jumping excitedly as he disappeared into the horizon.
“Hey, you know that girl Amber? The redhead chick I mentioned earlier?” Sakura asked me with an annoyed tone. Oh no. Here we go again with the hatred on Amber...
“Um, yes. She is my legal guardian.” I replied.
“You know her in that way? Well, she’s a jerk. A complete, total, jerk. When you see her again, tell her I’m out to get her,” she finished, walking away after Benjamin and dragging her feet. Admittedly, all that was fairly awkward. To have some kid walk up to you, threaten you, and then… It is unexplainable. Will they be helpful to Amber and I? Most likely not, since Sakura already seems to have some form of hatred for Amber. But Benjamin does not seem to understand this hatred Sakura has. Maybe he will treat us with kindness, as I will to him. I then remembered I had to go see my classes for today, since they have not released a proper schedule yet, so I ran into the main lobby to find out. Finding the billboard, it was easy to find Room 147, for it was the very first homeroom number on the sheet.
Home economics. During the cooking unit? I reacted to myself. Ugh… why? I cannot cook for my life. I have tried before, in my classes back in Superflat City, but I always ended up charring everything to the point of inedibility due to not knowing the conversion between Fahrenheit and Celsius and finicky ovens. I guess I will just have to bear it for now. Looking for my second class, I scanned the sheet, but there were no other classes before lunch.
“There is no class before lunch but home economics?” I asked the person next to me… a familiar face. It was Paula Polestar. Three weeks ago, she was the one who decided to pick on me everyday in the cafeteria. I wanted to seek help, but Paula had threatened to hurt Amber and Emily should I have gone through with it. I have not spoken to her since, for I fear she will make hurtful remarks about me once again. She had a red bow propped up in her hair neatly, and a plain pink dress with pleats in it (or so I think I think it is called). Her sleeves were puffed, and she had long white socks that made her lilac... what did Emily call them... Mary-Janes stand out. Emily often tells me about the latest fashion trends and why she wishes the popular girls would give her a chance to explain her ideas, but though I cannot understand a single word she speaks about it, I listen because it makes me feel good to have someone who even wants to talk with me. Then, of course, there are Amber, Ness, and Tracy, but all Tracy does is poke me and the other two are around me so much they are basically my family.
“Oh, they’re stalling time for an assembly this afternoon. It’s the last thing of the day, but I’ve heard they’re going pretty big with—Barry? It’s you!” she started to explain, before realizing who I was. “Have things been going well since you died and Amber brought you back?” How was I supposed to answer that? I had died temporarily, after all!
“Good…I suppose. I am presuming you watched Judge Garland yesterday?” I replied. “I think you would have, but I cannot say for sure because you have telepathy.”
“Oh, almost everyone in the school watched it, myself included. They’re sad that Emily got jailed, but everyone’s glad you guys aren’t really murderers. Especially you.” Paula answered. Why were they glad I was not dangerous? I mean nothing to most people! “I’m going to get to class now. My homeroom didn’t change, but I think that’s actually a good thing,” she stated, walking towards the gym. She turned back for a moment. “Oh, and Barry… Sorry about three weeks ago. I only meant the best for you and Amber.” She still calls me Barry! I hate that! But at the very least, she did not insult me. I wondered if Paula actually meant what she said, if she was actually remorseful for bullying me, and whether she really did mean for the best. I walked hurriedly down the hallway and up the first staircase I saw, taking the third left and arriving at my class. Amber and Ness were waiting by the door, looking over a Post-It Note and talking about something. I was still very angry at Amber for keeping a secret from me, and being a hypocrite, and I wanted nothing to do with her at this moment in time.
“Well well well, what do we have here?” I said, in an angry tone. “Waiting for first class, hmmm? I came here only to see Father.” I opened the door to the classroom, and as I walked in, I saw a face I never thought I would ever see; a face I did not recognize. The man in front of me was clearly from Lamina. He had silver hair that fell in his face and skin that looked almost orange, but a little yellow as well. His blue T-shirt with a red and black checkered one on it looked a lot like Benjamin's own shirt, and he wore grey jeans, but seemed to be barefoot or in sandals.
“Why, hello there! You're here early,” the teacher said. “I’ll be filling in for Mr. Watch today.” Who was this teacher? It was strange to me seeing a substitute in a classroom. Teachers rarely take sick days here at the Academy. In the way my father would, he had prepared gingerbread cookies for the class.
"My name is Mr. Jeremy Baker. I'm actually a student teacher looking to go into Chemistry 11, which is probably why you're giving me that confused look, but I'm subbing here today because whoever normally teaches this class asked me to." So this was who this teacher was... Huh. He seemed rather clueless about the class to me. I took a seat in the front row and noticed Benjamin sitting in a chair next to the cookie tray, taking a cookie for himself and devouring it. He turned around and saw me, nodding and pointing to said cookies.
“See? See? I told you! Cookies!” he exclaimed. “Sakura won’t know! Comes late!” Although I was tempted by the sight of food, I did not need any cookies at the moment. I am merely interested in finding the time to escape class on time so I can save Emily. I turned back to Mr. Baker, who was now sitting at Father's desk playing with a chemistry set.
"May I ask what the lesson plan for today is, if you are willing to solicit that information?” I asked. Mr. Baker picked up a binder, opening it and flipping to a certain page before lowering it and answering.
“Mr. Watch has only told me that the TV remote will be useful. Do you know what that means? I don’t.” he said, confused. But while he did not know what Father had meant, I certainly did. My mission would be much more challenging than before, on top of everything else! Why?!
“Oh, I know exactly what he wants you to do. See, the TVs have a VCR attached, and if I am correct, Mr. Watch should have a tape in there with the entire series of Cookmaster Teen Edition on it.” I explained. I avoided mentioning the fact that he was my father, for Mr. Baker may take it seriously and force me to stay in class. But now, rescuing Emily will be near impossible. Father decided today was the day he was going to showcase what he did for a living before teaching? Father used to be a very famous cook. He managed to obtain a job on the most famous youth cooking competition show in Quartasia as one of the main judges, and during that job he met Mother for the first time, having been a contestant. She did not win, but she won in the fact that she had met her future husband. The bell rang as I was finally able to gather myself, and Amber and Ness were the first ones in. They looked slightly worried, but when they saw me, Ness pulled Amber away, so I knew I would not have to converse with them. That was a relief. Soon after, the other students in my homeroom piled in, doing typical teenage things and sitting down by their friends. Mr. Baker watched worriedly as he fumbled with the TV remote.
“Oh no… You there. Could you give me a hand?” he mumbled, pointing to me.
“Sure. What is it you need help with?” I asked. Walking back to Father’s desk, I found our substitute desperately mashing buttons, pointing to the TV and stressing over getting today’s lesson even started.
“I can’t seem to get the TV working… I’m pointing the remote at it and everything,” stated Mr. Baker. He handed me the remote. “Can you see if I’m doing something wrong?” I briefly scanned the remote, flipping it over to its backside and opening the battery case. And when I looked inside, I found no batteries.
“Perhaps you should try checking whether batteries are inside the remote next time. That is what the issue seems to be.” I answered, handing back the remote and heading back to my desk. It was only then that Mr. Baker was able to figure out how to start the day’s lesson. “All right, students! As you may know already, Mr. Watch couldn’t make it to work today, so he prepared a special VCR tape and left me in charge of the lesson,” he started, forgetting to introduce himself. Benjamin looked up at the TV and seemed to be confused, as if something did not make sense to him.
“Why VCR?” called Benjamin. He seems to ask about everything…
“Oh, um, it was already there, I guess,” replied Mr. Baker, rushing through the menus and mashing yet more buttons on the remote. The TV flickered for a few moments, the video grainy while the TV warmed up, but soon the first episode was rolling just fine. I knew exactly how every episode started: The top twenty-four contestants would run into the kitchen battlegrounds, every one of them overly excited. This was followed by a brief blurb about the show, its prizing for being deemed the very best chef out of everyone, and the judges. My father, referred to as James Cook—perhaps to make his name more literal to those watching—was focused upon as the head judge amongst two other teen chefs I had never heard of. He seemed to have it perfect on set, for a smile was almost always on his face, and he would sometimes even cook amongst the contestants as a challenge for himself. His childhood seemed to be that of paradise. I would never normally utter such words in any situation, but… Damn it. I wish life was good for me like it was for Father.
“Now who wants some gingerbread cookies?” Mr. Baker asked, holding up the tray high enough so everyone could see what was on it. The entire class nearly erupted with noise, most people praising him for supposedly knowing what Mr. Watch did like the back of his hand. But this made me angry, for I could not focus on the TV show and its audio. And I snapped.
“SHUT UP! I AM TRYING TO WATCH THE TELEVISION, IF YOU DO NOT MIND!” I shouted at the top of my lungs. There was silence for a short while.
“What a jerk. Why don’t you kick him out for that?” stated a student, an Inkling that had transferred from Inkling Immersion to our side of the Academy.
“I can’t kick him out for one thing, Melissa. Barry, you should know better than to scream like that,” Mr. Baker explained to her, before turning to scold me. “There are other classes going on, you know. And everyone else here is trying to watch the show as well.” W-what… That is why I got angry! Is he completely oblivious?
“But that is why—”
“Not now, Barry. Just watch the TV show.” He interrupted. Ugh… Sometimes, people just do not have proper logic for punishments. At least I was not actually kicked put. The four contestants competing in the episode came onto the screen. Each had a short explanation of where they were from and why they decided to pursue cooking as a profession. And the second of those four in the episode was Mother. Her name before marriage was Brittney Abura-Gemu, and she wanted to go into cooking because she wanted to help the less fortunate. My mother was a very charitable person before falling under the influence of the Quartam Scepter. It made me feel good to know my parents truly had good hearts. As the episode played and the first mystery box was opened, the contestants rushed off to their stations and Father joined in the cooking himself. But after gathering his ingredients, he did not start to cook, but rather get to know the other contestants. The kitchen was a wide, gray area with four different stations for cooking. To the right of the last station, there was a free-roam pantry, and in front of the stations was the judges’ table. The floor was concrete. Nervously, Father approached Mother and started to ask about the dish she was going to make with the ingredients.
“Um, hello there, Brittany. W-what are you planning to do with the mystery box ingredients?” he asked on the show, extremely nervous. He was slightly twitchy for the entire episode, until he eliminated Mother in the entrée round for raw pork chops. The room I myself happened to be in a kitchen space, with six cooking stations in the back of the room. In front of that were desks like the ones in the English room: granite-coloured lids you could lift up to store things inside, with gray table legs holding it upright. Like nearly every desk in a high school, chewed gum had been stuck to the underside, and offensive graffiti was written on the inside of the desks. The floor was a beige and pale orange tile set, and the cupboards and overhanging wooden frame was made of a light yellow birch wood. Most students were on their PokéGears texting or surfing the internet, but Amber and Ness were whispering to each other.
“…He’s had enough for a while. I wish he knew when to take a break, fuzzy pickles!” muttered Ness to Amber.
“Just use one of your PSI powers. You can put people to sleep with one, right?” Amber replied. Ness shook his head.
“Maybe, if I have enough power. Fuzzy pickles, I don’t run off an energy outlet! Fuzzy pickles!” Their conversation became quieter, preventing me from fully listening in, but I felt like something was about to happen. Had I known exactly what they were talking about, I would have left the room in an attempt to avoid an incident. Nonetheless, I decided to watch the cooking show for a few more minutes. At this moment in time, the first contestant was being eliminated for his lack of seasoning and culinary taste for a fish sticks appetizer. Benjamin had started to stare obsessively at Ness with a mystified look in his eyes, of whom seemed to be having a headache, and Mr. Baker was confiscating PokéGears from unruly students. A sparkling noise began to fill the room, posing a mystery to me. What could that be? I thought to myself. Surely this cannot be the television! I looked behind me, once again at Ness. His pointer and middle fingers were pressing on his forehead, and in his other hand, which was resting on Amber’s shoulder, a gray ball of energy started to form. PSI powers at a time like this? The ball grew to about the size of an orange, and Ness lifted the pressure off his forehead. It floated lightly above his pointer and middle fingers, which were pressed together.
“You’re actually gonna do it?” Amber asked.
“Yes. He deserves the rest,” Ness responded. Ness raised his arm, and made a throwing motion towards my eyes—
I am dreaming again. Ness had put me to sleep! My plan to bail out Emily is in—wait… A vision?… A young boy sat atop a tree in the middle of a forest, on the highest branch. He cried heavily, his clothes torn and stained with blood, and he held a bloody axe in his hands. Somehow, I knew the day and time: It was April 27, 2008, at 11:02 am. The boy rubbed his eyes for a while and shoved his face into his hands.
“Where y-you? C-Come b-b-back... please...” he sobbed. From lower down, a young man with black hair, a tan fedora, a blue business suit, and a red tie and grey pants was climbing up the tree, being careful not to lose his grip and fall down––something he had almost failed when he started embarking up the bark of the tree. He approached the branch where the boy was perched and attempted to gain his attention.
“Hey, are you okay?” asked the man. He seemed to have trouble gripping onto the tree.
The boy tried to back up, but couldn’t. He started to flip his lid, becoming frightened by the man’s attire. He appeared to be a policeman, even to myself. “NO! NO! POLICEMAN GO AWAY! YOU NEVER CATCH ME!” The man sighed and tried to comfort the boy, taking off his shiny gold badge.
“Benjamin Cloviet, I’m not a policeman. I haven’t been chasing you through night and day. I’m just here to help make sure you’re proven innocent.”
“GO AWAY! GO AWAY!” So this is Benjamin in his past? Why am I seeing this? Is this a dream or a sort of flashback?
The man wasn’t getting anywhere fast. His outfit had frightened Benjamin, causing him to mistake the man for a policeman. A young girl was still down on the ground, but she had quite the voice and yelled up to him.
“Hey Al! Try presenting that cookie from your breakfast! That’ll get him calm again!” Hmm... so the man is named Al. Why is this name familiar...? What exactly did the girl mean by presenting, and how would this man even do that?
“What do you mean, I have to present it? Can you explain that?”
“Silly lawyer! Just show him what you need him to talk about, and depending on what it is, he’ll tell you what he knows!” Al pulled out his suitcase and pulled out a gingerbread cookie, sighing and handing it to young Benjamin.
“Look at me, alright? I’m not here to hurt you. See? I even brought you a gingerbread cookie––your favorite!”
Benjamin’s eyes lit up upon seeing the cookie brought just for him, despite still heavily crying. He grabbed it fiercely from Al’s hands and devoured it. It could have easily been less than fifteen seconds before he was finished.
“T-Thank you. A-Are you policeman?”
“N-No. I just said I wasn’t. My name is Al Catraz; I’m a defense attorney. I’m here to help you.”
“Help? How? How help me?”
“Well, I understand this might be a hard thing for you to talk about, but your parents died last night, right?”
“...” Benjamin stayed quiet. The same pain I thought I had seen flashed through his eyes fiercely.
“I don’t have any autopsy reports yet. I don’t even have any evidence. But I’m going to find it and I’m going to prove you weren’t the one who killed them.” The two looked at each other, seeming to communicate mutual agreement, before Benjamin spoke up again.
“Help get down. Help get down from tree." Al started to think to himself before being caught off-guard by the object next to Benjamin. Propped up next to Benjamin was a sharp, silver axe. It was actually clean for the most part, but the very edge was caked with blood. There was no way anything would be able to wash it off, even by sticking it into a tree or washing it.
“WHY IS THERE AN AXE STAINED WITH BLOOD NEXT TO YOU?!” Al screamed, horrified. Once again, he almost fell to his death, but he grabbed onto yet another branch and watched his life flash before his eyes. Regaining his composure, he got back up and continued to stare at Benjamin and the axe.
“Um... umm, uhh...” Benjamin started to get nervous. Why was he cracking under pressure so early?
“What is it about that axe? Did they use that to kill your parents?”
“Mmph... Nuuuuuhh...” Benjamin was close to tears again. He was ready to break down on the spot. Al knew he hit the right spot when this happened. “USED IT! USED IT TO KILL MOMMY AND DADDY!! Waaahahhahhh...”
I felt quite terrible seeing Benjamin cry. He must've been scarred pretty badly by whatever he had seen. Now Al had to carry him down to safety, which I did not see as too big a challenge.
“Hey, it’s okay. Don’t cry. Your friend Sakura’s waiting for you at the bottom. Why don’t we go see her?”
He picked up Benjamin and the axe, and slowly tried to make his way back down. The next thing I knew, I was watching Al, Benjamin, and two others, all of whom were in a 2006 Ford Focus. Al seemed to have just recovered from breathing in too much smoke, as his breaths were heavy and rather fast, and since Benjamin did not seem to be pre-occupied, I presume he thought it would be a good time to ask him a few questions.
“Hey Benjamin, can you tell me a bit about yourself?” asked Al, turning around to look Benjamin in the eyes.
“...Benji.” What was that going to tell Al? I myself could not even understand where that response came from.
“Uhh... can you tell me about yourself?”
“Benji.” The girl stepped in this time, knowing Al was not going to stay calm for long if he did not know why Benjamin was not answering.
“Silly lawyer! He just doesn’t like it when you call him by his full name! Just call him Benji. You gave him the cookie, so he’ll talk to you,” she explained.
“Ahh, I get it now! Thanks, Sakura.” He nodded and turned back to Benjamin. So the girl was Sakura, too... Why do I have the feeling this is important? “So Benji, can you tell me a bit about yourself?”
“Seven years old. Go to Tom Nook Elementary. Not sure name of teacher class. ...Nothing important say.”
“I’m sure there’s something you like, right? Everything you say is important to me.” Al seemed to be trying his best to comfort Benjamin, which made me proud. I knew the feeling of having to be comforted too many times...
“Like making stories and daydreaming. Staring at clouds and staring at stars. Getting out of world, into big make-believe world, away from everyone.”
Al thought about Benjamin’s answer. It was not like that of normal people. The way he spoke also seemed to be like that of his present-day counterpart. Was there a reason I was seeing these events? Do I have something to do with Benjamin in the future? Did Ness's PSI forge this?
“Cool!” Al did not seem sure what he should do next. He stared Benjamin down with a comforting look, before Benjamin's expression went blank. His eyes filled with a mystical clairvoyance I had only seen once before.
“...I look into eyes, and I can read minds. Can do with any. You want know about night of murder?”
“Of course! I think your little power is really spectacular, too!” Al was trying to be friendly to Benjamin so he could get info out of him, but I had a feeling the two would come to be close friends.
“It was close 9:45 at night. Mommy and Daddy have lots people over. All eating dinner, me at table by TV. I go outside to get Pedro, but when come back in... SLASH!! Daddy falls to ground dead. Man come in behind and started kill. Other people run outside; don’t come back. Mommy jumps out of seat. Screams loud. Axeman swings and leans over. SLASH!! Mommy falls to ground dead. I... I can’t remember happened after.” Benjamin was close to crying again. The poor boy had seen his parents’ death and had nowhere to run to. He seemed quite terrified. I know how it feels, seeing things you should not have. Seeing death, seeing injury... Movies only sugarcoat how painful the events actually are.
“You don’t remember anything else?”
“No.”
“Then why did we find you all the way in Viridian Forest? It’s an hour long drive from Nookville! Who knows how long it would be walking?” Benjamin hung his head low. He seemed to remember something, for his eyes suddenly went wide and he looked up at Al with a scared face.
“Remember what happened after. Pinned to wall, man holding scary thing next to here.” Benjamin pointed to where his heart was. “Suddenly, backed off. Made bang and arm started hurting really bad. Fell over and screamed. Don’t remember happened after, but ran out through porch door and on side of road. Kept running. Never tired.”
“Huh. And how long do you think it took to get to Viridian Forest?”
“Umm, half hour maybe.”
It was then when the dream started to fade. I was starting to regain my senses after my unintentional slumber, and my surroundings were coming back to me. Blearily, I fumbled fro my PokéGear, and I nearly panicked when I saw how much time I had left to complete my mission.
The time, you ask? 11:01 am.
After Ness put Mr. Game to sleep, I started to think about when to leave for the bank. I only got here in mid-August, so you can’t expect me to know where everything is quite yet. Ness has also only been in Onett for a short while—since about March, to be exact—so he also doesn’t know Onett like the back of his hand yet. It’s a really big city, and seven months isn't really going to do much.
“Umm… You know that bank trip we were gonna make?” I asked Ness, being careful not to disturb the class.
“Yeah. What about it, fuzzy pickles?” replied Ness, also in a whisper.
“When are we gonna leave to do that? I mean, the sooner the better,” I finished. “We have to get you that money so your family can at least sustain themselves for a few days. Your mom doesn’t get the paycheck until Saturday, anyway.”
“Fuzzy pickles, you're right. We also need to get to your house to get your debit card, and the police station to report my mama’s wallet missing, fuzzy pickles.” Ness responded. I lifted up the desk lid to hopefully find a pencil and a lined sheet of paper, but to my dismay, I only found swear words written on the bottom. Ick. It’s just lazy and disgusting for people to leave that stuff there. I’d never—sorry, that’d be lying again. Sometimes I can get a little carried away.
“So… if we want to get all that money stuff done, we have to leave now,” I concluded. “It would be helpful if I could draw everything out first, though. Can you look in your desk, Ness?” Ness cleared everything off his desk and into his backpack, lifting up the lid carefully. The desk he had was slightly less offensive than the one I had, and it had what we were looking for, so he took out the supplies and handed them to me.
“So if we’re here, and the bank’s over here,” I said, “it should take about fifteen minutes to get there.” Ness put his hand on his chin in a puzzle-solving manner, searching his shorts pockets for a spare pencil, but by the look on his face when he stopped looking, he found something more important than a pencil.
“Oh… Oh my Arceus, Amber… Fuzzy pickles!” he almost shouted, before putting his hands over his mouth. He went back into his pocket and pulled out a piece of notebook paper. Reading it to himself first, his lip started quivering as he moved his arm towards me. “Read this, fuzzy pickles.” I took it from his hands, and its contents weren't exactly the most reassuring thing:
9/14/2014
By the time you read this, your father has been killed. Ness Michelin, I know you don’t understand why… but if I were to let him live, your PSI would become too strong. Dangerously strong. Your father was the only one who would be able to properly train you. Now, you are the only one who can train your sister, Tracy, and she has much untapped potential in the ways of PSI… but as it looks now, you will never get the chance. I have her and your mother hostage. Tracy never made it to school this morning.
The Eggman Empire has not died yet.
“Holy crap! What?!” I cried. “How—how d-did you—”
“I don’t know. Fuzzy pickles! There was nothing in my pockets this morning! I’m not even too sure what I’ve put in them recently! Fuzzy pickles, we need to get this to the police!” Ness replied, frantic and trying to contain himself. It was a surprise he wasn't getting in trouble from that Mr. Baker guy.
“But then what about the withdraw? You family needs the money!” I questioned.
“Amber. We’ll be fine. My mama has enough to live off of right now. Tracy could be killed!” He started muttering to himself in Japanese and stumbled out of the room, and I decided now was the time to move it.
“Uhh, Mr. Baker, can I go to the bathroom?” I asked, trying to get out the safe way even though I don't normally take precautions. He wasn’t paying attention, so I abused that and snuck out of class. Alright, I’m gonna say this now: That’s not Mr. Stalk-It’s writing. That’s Dr. Eggman’s. Back when I worked for the Dark Egg Legion, I’d always find myself snooping in his personal documents, and when we were assigned a mission, he would write it out for me so I wouldn’t forget. Why would he have any business with Tracy, though? She doesn’t even know how to use PSI! I don’t think she can! When I got out of class, Ness was leaning over the balcony, tears streaming from his eyes though they were open. I figured my best option for getting out of the Academy now was talking Ness into recollecting himself like I would Mr. Game, so I did just that.
“Ness, we should get going. If we turn in this evidence, they have a better chance of getting Tracy back!” I explained. Ness wouldn’t hear it from me. He tried to hold back his tears but only ended up choking on them.
“Fuzzy pickles… Amber, do you know what it’s like to suddenly have your entire family ripped away from you? It tears you apart, fuzzy pickles! First, Papa’s killed, then Mama won’t talk anymore because of Papa’s death, and now Tracy’s been kidnapped and will probably be killed?! YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A FAMILY! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE FOR ME, HAVING TO DEAL WITH THIS!" Ness had completely snapped, something I'd never seen him do. I felt bad, but his outburst startled me a little bit.
"But I do have a family! I have you and Mr. Game!" I shouted back at him. My family might not be what you'd call a proper family, but it's what I've grown accustomed to and it means the world to me. A normal life... normal... what did a normal life even mean?
"Amber, look, I come from a family that's spoilt, fuzzy pickles. I come from a land of riches, I come from a land where we always got what we wanted, I come from a land where everyone loved each other and that is the normal. And now, it's changing, and I feel like every Arceusdamn thing is coming apart!"
“You always seem perfectly fine to me, though! When your dad died, you were upset for, like, a day and then you went back to normal! ” I replied. “I don’t get it. If you were actually upset, then how are you keeping it a secret?”
“I’m not Mr. Game! Just because he can’t hide his feelings well at all doesn’t mean I can’t, fuzzy pickles!” Ness answered. He broke down while still looking over the balcony. His tears were falling to the floor below us, and he blew up again in an emotional rage.
“AMBER, I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I CAN TAKE IT ANYMORE! I'M GOING TO END UP LIKE YOU AND MR. GAME, AND I'M GOING TO BLOW PAST MY ARCEUSDAMN LIMIT! I'M GOING TO END UP LIKE YOU AND MR. GAME AND I'M GOING TO... I'M GOING TO...”
Ness turned around and hugged me tightly, crying heavily and hyperventilating. I did the only thing I knew to do, hugging him back… but this time, feeling more like a girlfriend than a parent. I’m so used to acting like a parent that it comes naturally now. To think I was once causing other people the pain Ness is experiencing now just horrifies me when I think about it! I might have nightmares from now on! Ness kept crying into my shoulder, with PSI sparks starting to emit from his hands. They started forming int—ant—cin—Dammit! They started to form detailed patterns in the sky in front of me, before exploding with colour and lightning. Ness’s crying started to slow down after this happened, lifting himself away from me and taking off his ballcap. "Fuzzy pickles, just—just… stay.” he cried. “Don’t leave me.” he said, wiping away tears and putting his hat on my head. “I want you to wear this for now. It looks cool on you.”
“Thanks! Hey, this is kinda cool. Maybe we should get going now,” I responded. “Gimme a second and we’ll be outta here at the speed of sound—literally!” I dug around in my skirt pockets until I found my collection of images I could copy powers from, pulling them out and looking for the one of Sonic. I think I briefly explained this on Sunday, but who cares? When the DeCodeHacker was coding my human model and abilities, he gave me the superpower to copy the superpowers of other famous video game characters, like Kirby’s Copy Ability. I just have to look at the official artwork for Sonic, for example, and I’ll be able to use his super speed for half an hour. I know, it’s a short amount of time, but it’s actually a lot when you’re the one needing the superpower. However, if I use super speed today, I won’t be able to use it again until… what’s the time… 10:32 am tomorrow. It only lasts 24 hours. I can still use other superpowers after my speed’s up, so I could just be cheap and copy Tails’s flight when that’s done.
“Alright, I’ve got the power in cue. Grab my hand, Ness!” I exclaimed, which probably wasn’t a good idea because we’re trying to ditch class right now. “One… two…” I dashed forward, but ended up tripping. Ness landed on top of me, quickly getting up and dusting himself off.
“C’mon, Amber! Fuzzy pickles, we’re heading out, not falling down!” he laughed. “Fuzzy pickles, just run to the end of the hallway and back as fast as you can. I’ll time it on my PokéGear.” That seemed to be a fair way to test the power, but the last time I tried using Sonic’s power, I tripped because I’d already used it that day. Was tripping a way of telling me when I couldn’t use Sonic’s speed?
“Alright, here we go!” I exclaimed again, running as fast as I could down the halls. Time was going really slowly for some reason, so maybe I’m coming down with something. When I got back, Ness nodded his head in disappointment.
“Were you actually running as fast as you could?” he asked. Why would Ness deny that I was?
“Of course! I’m not gonna mess around in the time we’ve got!” I answered in a sassy tone. We stared each other down for a few seconds, and then I facepalmed. “It’s not working, is it?” I asked.
“Fuzzy pickles, you would be right. When did you last copy speed?” Ness asked back. Uhh… I didn’t use it yesterday. I didn’t copy any powers yesterday. I think I used it last week ago in some endurance thing to rack up a bunch of laps. Then I picked up Mr. Game, who was having trouble because he hadn’t slept the night before, and lapped people a few more times.
“I think it was last week in that new endurance thing. There’s no reason as to why I can’t use it now, so that’s really weird.” I replied.
“Two things now: One, we’ve got square dancing tomorrow, so let’s hope that goes well. And two, let’s go ask Sonic himself why I can’t copy his speed!” I grabbed Ness by the wrist and started dragging him down the halls to Sonic’s classroom, which was a bit further down the hall on the first floor. Wearing Ness’s hat is pretty cool. I think I’m gonna steal it from his head every now and then just so I can wear it! When we arrived in the history classroom (since Sonic teaches it; he’s learned a lot about Mobius during his adventures and is literally a student teacher of Mario), Mario was busy watching over the class take exams while Sonic was sitting at the teacher’s desk bored. I walked in casually, much to the dismay of Ness, and went over to Sonic.
“Hey Sonic,” I whispered. “Can we talk to you outside?”
“Mario’s got it under control,” Sonic answered. He got up out of the leather chair and walked out of the classroom, leaning against the wall close to the door. “What can I help you with?” he asked.
“So, uh, have I ever told you about my superpower?” I asked, just to make sure Sonic understood what I was going to ask.
“No, actually, I haven’t. I dunno what it’s got to do with me, but could you explain?” he replied.
“Oh, it’s got everything to do with you right now,” I assured him as I started explaining. When I finished, Ness jumped in with the question.
“Now that you know what she can do, fuzzy pickles, Amber’s trying to copy your speed but can’t, even though she is ready to use the power. Why is that, fuzzy pickles? Did you lose your speed?” he asked. Sonic winced and pointed down to his shoes… which looked the same as his Power Sneakers for the most part. The only difference was that there was the white stripes were grey, and the soles looked like plastic.
“These look like ‘em, but they aren’t. I got Tails to make a fake temporary pair last week, because one day when I woke up, my shoes went missing. It was the weirdest thing!” Sonic started to explain. “It’s not that I don’t have my speed without them. It's just that those shoes are the only ones that don’t wear out within five seconds when I start runnin’. The real shoes do have a little bit of speed in ‘em, though, so whoever stole ‘em can run around at a hundred n’ fifty miles per hour tops! It’s widely believed my shoes are the source of my speed, so maybe that’s why.” Wait… stolen?
“Are you sure they were stolen? Maybe you misplaced them or something.” I asked.
“Yeah, I could’ve sworn those shoes were on my feet when I went to bed that night! The window was broken, too!” he proclaimed. “That's what I said when I locked the door Sunday Night. I hope we can get them back for you! In the meanwhile, we’ve gotta go back to class, so bye!” I stated, finishing our conversation. Sonic went back in the classroom, and me and Ness darted out of the Academy’s front doors.
“I can’t believe someone would do that to Sonic, fuzzy pickles! Maybe you could copy Tails’s flight?” Ness suggested. I pulled out my stash of art again and found Tails, staring at the image long enough to copy the power. Ness watched in awe as two yellow fuzzy white-tipped tails formed from code in my back, and I grabbed Ness’s hands, jumping and initiating flight.
“Police office, right?” I asked.
“That would be it, so yes! You know where you’re going?” Ness replied.
“Of course I do! Don’t question my knowledge!” I yelled, flying higher until I could achieve max speed. Flying is pretty fun. You can go just about anywhere, but it’s also dangerous because you’ll fall to your death if the power runs out. It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the police station this time, since we cut across a lake to arrive, but our question period with Sonic really set us back. Are we even gonna get back in time for lunch? We walked in and went up to the front desk.
“Uh, excuse me! We found something important!” I called. One of the policemen turned around and walked up to the desk, ready to take our evidence. “Ness, you wanna handle this one? I don't think I should interfere,” I whispered. Ness turned to me and nodded.
“Thank you, Amber. I will handle it.” he said. He turned around to the policeman and started explaining. “I… was in Home Economics with my friend, fuzzy pickles, and when I looked in my pockets, I found something that hadn’t been in there before this morning. It was an anonymous note, which said they kidnapped my sister, Tracy Michelin, fuzzy pickles, and explained why they killed my otōsan.” Ness continued to speak in Japanese, starting to cry a little while he was explaining his situation at home. I’m assuming otōsan means dad? It seems like the right word, but I’m clueless with Nintendopolis’s second language. Ness finished talking as he handed the policeman the letter, watching him like a hawk to make sure he didn't do anything to it.
“We’ve received other tips about this incident this morning, actually. This was the missing piece of the puzzle. Now we know who the kidnapper is and why they’re doing it. Thank you, Ness,” stated the officer. He hurried off to the back room as we headed out. I suddenly wondered why Ness never seemed to be home, and why he never seemed to have any sort of life outside hanging with me and Mr. Game.
“Is that why you’re never at home? Because of your whole family situation?” I asked, hoping I hadn't triggered something painful in Ness.
“No, fuzzy pickles. There’s two reasons: that, and being around your family, though it’s mainly your family. Fuzzy pickles, I want to help you and Mr. Game every way I can.” Ness finished. I feel like I can understand what what he’s going through is like. Ugh. Suddenly, I heard an excited squeal coming from Ness.
“Amber! Amber! I remember more of it! The song’s fourth piece!” Ness exclaimed. “I think it was when I told you this morning about the fuzzy pickles, fuzzy pickles!” Wow, the irony in that statement. I'm never going to get why exactly Ness says fuzzy pickles instead of anything else, but I guess he can't do anything about it.
“Oh my Arceus, really? Awesome! Maybe when we get to your house tonight, you can play it!” I replied. See, back when Ness was ridding the world of Giygas, he needed to find all eight pieces to a song for some reason. But when the fuzzy pickles came back, he forgot the song. Now, it looks like he’s remembering parts of the song when milestones happen, like when Ness confessed to me about his tic disorder. I wonder what’ll happen when he remembers the entire song. I jumped up and initiated flight again after we exited the bank, grabbing Ness’s arms and flying towards the bank.
“Where are we going, fuzzy pickles?” asked Ness.
“To the bank, we’re getting the Pokos for you, remember?” I answered.
“Right! Keep going, then. Fuzzy pickles! I was hoping we could head back to school for lunch, but I think we’ll be fine for now.” A quick tip for if you ever grow tails and fly: Don’t exhaust yourself lifting someone. You’ll get tired while flying. From my house, it takes about thirty-five minutes to get to the bank, and from the Academy, it’s twenty, so it shouldn’t take too long to get there. When the bank came into view, many people were bustling in the shops around it, including that Benjamin kid and a few Quartasians. Wait, I think it was just one. Was it? I can’t remember. But the Quartasian went in for five minutes, came back out, and started running. That looked a bit shady, but we don’t have any time to go back to the police department. Oh well, you can’t get them all. I heard a buzzing sound behind me. “Amber, has it almost been half an hour? We’re losing altitude!” yelled Ness. I looked behind me and saw that the tails were fading!
“Oh no, it has! We need to get down fast!” I cried. I stopped propelling and let us fall slowly to the ground, touching down near the entrance to the bank. “Well, we’re here. Once we get the Pokos, we can go back and eat!” I stated. We walked inside the building, a professional-looking place with periwinkle blue walls and pink tulips in pots hanging over the tellers. Off to the left, there was a small area with dark blue comfy chairs and a small TV set onto cooking shows. The floor was made of grey tiles, and there weren’t many people in the lineups, so me and Ness stepped in line and waited until we could check my bank account with a teller.
“Hello!” we greeted as we stepped up to the front desk. “Uhh, I’d like to withdraw 100 Pokos from my bank account, please!” I finished. The teller nodded and turned to his computer, typing furiously to get the result. “Gimme a second and it can be done,” he replied. Me and Ness waited for a few minutes while search results came up. “Your name is…?” he questioned.
“Oh, it’s Amber Tzaziki,” I responded. “If I’m not the only one, my PIN is 4263.”
“Four, two… G… A… M E.” muttered Ness to himself. He came closer and whispered. “You PIN is GAME. Fuzzy pickles, what would it be without Mr. Game, Amber?” That was actually a tough question. Mr. Game’s filled an awfully big hole in my life.
“Uhh, it’d be… um… uhh…” I tried to find an answer but couldn’t.
“…I remember now, the day your family was taken from you. It was the first time I had seen anyone that upset. Fuzzy pickles. You disappeared and came back, determined to get your life’s purpose back. And you got it back, fuzzy pickles. But how long will it last?” stated Ness. He had a stern look in his eyes, almost like he was reading my mind. In my heart, I knew he was. It was his nature to try to help people. "Sorry about exploding on you earlier, by the way. I really didn't mean it, fuzzy pickles."
“Stop using telepathy on me! Even if you do know what’s going on in there, you’ll never understand it!” I demanded. At that moment, the teller finished his search and provided the results.
“Miss Tzaziki, it appears you have nothing deposited in your account. If you still want the 100 Pokos, it’ll have to be a loan,” he said. Wait… what the f—
“WHAT?! I SWEAR I HAD 390 POKOS IN THERE! WHAT THE NETHER HAPPENED TO IT ALL?!” I screamed. Ness zapped me with tiny PSI Thunder sparks, and I flinched for a moment. I was ready to punch the first person who p—Yes, I know to be polite—who ticked me off! “NESS, DON’T DO IT AGAIN!” I shouted.
“When was the last recorded activity in the account, fuzzy pickles?” asked Ness. He tried to keep himself from crying, and was doing a pretty good job of it. “Let’s see here… it was about ten minutes ago.” answered the teller. The stalker had attacked me like he did Ness!
But as I would later learn, it wasn’t Ness. It was a threat I hadn’t ever expected. A threat I shouldn't have even expected to do what they did.
“Umm… You know that bank trip we were gonna make?” I asked Ness, being careful not to disturb the class.
“Yeah. What about it, fuzzy pickles?” replied Ness, also in a whisper.
“When are we gonna leave to do that? I mean, the sooner the better,” I finished. “We have to get you that money so your family can at least sustain themselves for a few days. Your mom doesn’t get the paycheck until Saturday, anyway.”
“Fuzzy pickles, you're right. We also need to get to your house to get your debit card, and the police station to report my mama’s wallet missing, fuzzy pickles.” Ness responded. I lifted up the desk lid to hopefully find a pencil and a lined sheet of paper, but to my dismay, I only found swear words written on the bottom. Ick. It’s just lazy and disgusting for people to leave that stuff there. I’d never—sorry, that’d be lying again. Sometimes I can get a little carried away.
“So… if we want to get all that money stuff done, we have to leave now,” I concluded. “It would be helpful if I could draw everything out first, though. Can you look in your desk, Ness?” Ness cleared everything off his desk and into his backpack, lifting up the lid carefully. The desk he had was slightly less offensive than the one I had, and it had what we were looking for, so he took out the supplies and handed them to me.
“So if we’re here, and the bank’s over here,” I said, “it should take about fifteen minutes to get there.” Ness put his hand on his chin in a puzzle-solving manner, searching his shorts pockets for a spare pencil, but by the look on his face when he stopped looking, he found something more important than a pencil.
“Oh… Oh my Arceus, Amber… Fuzzy pickles!” he almost shouted, before putting his hands over his mouth. He went back into his pocket and pulled out a piece of notebook paper. Reading it to himself first, his lip started quivering as he moved his arm towards me. “Read this, fuzzy pickles.” I took it from his hands, and its contents weren't exactly the most reassuring thing:
9/14/2014
By the time you read this, your father has been killed. Ness Michelin, I know you don’t understand why… but if I were to let him live, your PSI would become too strong. Dangerously strong. Your father was the only one who would be able to properly train you. Now, you are the only one who can train your sister, Tracy, and she has much untapped potential in the ways of PSI… but as it looks now, you will never get the chance. I have her and your mother hostage. Tracy never made it to school this morning.
The Eggman Empire has not died yet.
“Holy crap! What?!” I cried. “How—how d-did you—”
“I don’t know. Fuzzy pickles! There was nothing in my pockets this morning! I’m not even too sure what I’ve put in them recently! Fuzzy pickles, we need to get this to the police!” Ness replied, frantic and trying to contain himself. It was a surprise he wasn't getting in trouble from that Mr. Baker guy.
“But then what about the withdraw? You family needs the money!” I questioned.
“Amber. We’ll be fine. My mama has enough to live off of right now. Tracy could be killed!” He started muttering to himself in Japanese and stumbled out of the room, and I decided now was the time to move it.
“Uhh, Mr. Baker, can I go to the bathroom?” I asked, trying to get out the safe way even though I don't normally take precautions. He wasn’t paying attention, so I abused that and snuck out of class. Alright, I’m gonna say this now: That’s not Mr. Stalk-It’s writing. That’s Dr. Eggman’s. Back when I worked for the Dark Egg Legion, I’d always find myself snooping in his personal documents, and when we were assigned a mission, he would write it out for me so I wouldn’t forget. Why would he have any business with Tracy, though? She doesn’t even know how to use PSI! I don’t think she can! When I got out of class, Ness was leaning over the balcony, tears streaming from his eyes though they were open. I figured my best option for getting out of the Academy now was talking Ness into recollecting himself like I would Mr. Game, so I did just that.
“Ness, we should get going. If we turn in this evidence, they have a better chance of getting Tracy back!” I explained. Ness wouldn’t hear it from me. He tried to hold back his tears but only ended up choking on them.
“Fuzzy pickles… Amber, do you know what it’s like to suddenly have your entire family ripped away from you? It tears you apart, fuzzy pickles! First, Papa’s killed, then Mama won’t talk anymore because of Papa’s death, and now Tracy’s been kidnapped and will probably be killed?! YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A FAMILY! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE FOR ME, HAVING TO DEAL WITH THIS!" Ness had completely snapped, something I'd never seen him do. I felt bad, but his outburst startled me a little bit.
"But I do have a family! I have you and Mr. Game!" I shouted back at him. My family might not be what you'd call a proper family, but it's what I've grown accustomed to and it means the world to me. A normal life... normal... what did a normal life even mean?
"Amber, look, I come from a family that's spoilt, fuzzy pickles. I come from a land of riches, I come from a land where we always got what we wanted, I come from a land where everyone loved each other and that is the normal. And now, it's changing, and I feel like every Arceusdamn thing is coming apart!"
“You always seem perfectly fine to me, though! When your dad died, you were upset for, like, a day and then you went back to normal! ” I replied. “I don’t get it. If you were actually upset, then how are you keeping it a secret?”
“I’m not Mr. Game! Just because he can’t hide his feelings well at all doesn’t mean I can’t, fuzzy pickles!” Ness answered. He broke down while still looking over the balcony. His tears were falling to the floor below us, and he blew up again in an emotional rage.
“AMBER, I DON'T EVEN KNOW IF I CAN TAKE IT ANYMORE! I'M GOING TO END UP LIKE YOU AND MR. GAME, AND I'M GOING TO BLOW PAST MY ARCEUSDAMN LIMIT! I'M GOING TO END UP LIKE YOU AND MR. GAME AND I'M GOING TO... I'M GOING TO...”
Ness turned around and hugged me tightly, crying heavily and hyperventilating. I did the only thing I knew to do, hugging him back… but this time, feeling more like a girlfriend than a parent. I’m so used to acting like a parent that it comes naturally now. To think I was once causing other people the pain Ness is experiencing now just horrifies me when I think about it! I might have nightmares from now on! Ness kept crying into my shoulder, with PSI sparks starting to emit from his hands. They started forming int—ant—cin—Dammit! They started to form detailed patterns in the sky in front of me, before exploding with colour and lightning. Ness’s crying started to slow down after this happened, lifting himself away from me and taking off his ballcap. "Fuzzy pickles, just—just… stay.” he cried. “Don’t leave me.” he said, wiping away tears and putting his hat on my head. “I want you to wear this for now. It looks cool on you.”
“Thanks! Hey, this is kinda cool. Maybe we should get going now,” I responded. “Gimme a second and we’ll be outta here at the speed of sound—literally!” I dug around in my skirt pockets until I found my collection of images I could copy powers from, pulling them out and looking for the one of Sonic. I think I briefly explained this on Sunday, but who cares? When the DeCodeHacker was coding my human model and abilities, he gave me the superpower to copy the superpowers of other famous video game characters, like Kirby’s Copy Ability. I just have to look at the official artwork for Sonic, for example, and I’ll be able to use his super speed for half an hour. I know, it’s a short amount of time, but it’s actually a lot when you’re the one needing the superpower. However, if I use super speed today, I won’t be able to use it again until… what’s the time… 10:32 am tomorrow. It only lasts 24 hours. I can still use other superpowers after my speed’s up, so I could just be cheap and copy Tails’s flight when that’s done.
“Alright, I’ve got the power in cue. Grab my hand, Ness!” I exclaimed, which probably wasn’t a good idea because we’re trying to ditch class right now. “One… two…” I dashed forward, but ended up tripping. Ness landed on top of me, quickly getting up and dusting himself off.
“C’mon, Amber! Fuzzy pickles, we’re heading out, not falling down!” he laughed. “Fuzzy pickles, just run to the end of the hallway and back as fast as you can. I’ll time it on my PokéGear.” That seemed to be a fair way to test the power, but the last time I tried using Sonic’s power, I tripped because I’d already used it that day. Was tripping a way of telling me when I couldn’t use Sonic’s speed?
“Alright, here we go!” I exclaimed again, running as fast as I could down the halls. Time was going really slowly for some reason, so maybe I’m coming down with something. When I got back, Ness nodded his head in disappointment.
“Were you actually running as fast as you could?” he asked. Why would Ness deny that I was?
“Of course! I’m not gonna mess around in the time we’ve got!” I answered in a sassy tone. We stared each other down for a few seconds, and then I facepalmed. “It’s not working, is it?” I asked.
“Fuzzy pickles, you would be right. When did you last copy speed?” Ness asked back. Uhh… I didn’t use it yesterday. I didn’t copy any powers yesterday. I think I used it last week ago in some endurance thing to rack up a bunch of laps. Then I picked up Mr. Game, who was having trouble because he hadn’t slept the night before, and lapped people a few more times.
“I think it was last week in that new endurance thing. There’s no reason as to why I can’t use it now, so that’s really weird.” I replied.
“Two things now: One, we’ve got square dancing tomorrow, so let’s hope that goes well. And two, let’s go ask Sonic himself why I can’t copy his speed!” I grabbed Ness by the wrist and started dragging him down the halls to Sonic’s classroom, which was a bit further down the hall on the first floor. Wearing Ness’s hat is pretty cool. I think I’m gonna steal it from his head every now and then just so I can wear it! When we arrived in the history classroom (since Sonic teaches it; he’s learned a lot about Mobius during his adventures and is literally a student teacher of Mario), Mario was busy watching over the class take exams while Sonic was sitting at the teacher’s desk bored. I walked in casually, much to the dismay of Ness, and went over to Sonic.
“Hey Sonic,” I whispered. “Can we talk to you outside?”
“Mario’s got it under control,” Sonic answered. He got up out of the leather chair and walked out of the classroom, leaning against the wall close to the door. “What can I help you with?” he asked.
“So, uh, have I ever told you about my superpower?” I asked, just to make sure Sonic understood what I was going to ask.
“No, actually, I haven’t. I dunno what it’s got to do with me, but could you explain?” he replied.
“Oh, it’s got everything to do with you right now,” I assured him as I started explaining. When I finished, Ness jumped in with the question.
“Now that you know what she can do, fuzzy pickles, Amber’s trying to copy your speed but can’t, even though she is ready to use the power. Why is that, fuzzy pickles? Did you lose your speed?” he asked. Sonic winced and pointed down to his shoes… which looked the same as his Power Sneakers for the most part. The only difference was that there was the white stripes were grey, and the soles looked like plastic.
“These look like ‘em, but they aren’t. I got Tails to make a fake temporary pair last week, because one day when I woke up, my shoes went missing. It was the weirdest thing!” Sonic started to explain. “It’s not that I don’t have my speed without them. It's just that those shoes are the only ones that don’t wear out within five seconds when I start runnin’. The real shoes do have a little bit of speed in ‘em, though, so whoever stole ‘em can run around at a hundred n’ fifty miles per hour tops! It’s widely believed my shoes are the source of my speed, so maybe that’s why.” Wait… stolen?
“Are you sure they were stolen? Maybe you misplaced them or something.” I asked.
“Yeah, I could’ve sworn those shoes were on my feet when I went to bed that night! The window was broken, too!” he proclaimed. “That's what I said when I locked the door Sunday Night. I hope we can get them back for you! In the meanwhile, we’ve gotta go back to class, so bye!” I stated, finishing our conversation. Sonic went back in the classroom, and me and Ness darted out of the Academy’s front doors.
“I can’t believe someone would do that to Sonic, fuzzy pickles! Maybe you could copy Tails’s flight?” Ness suggested. I pulled out my stash of art again and found Tails, staring at the image long enough to copy the power. Ness watched in awe as two yellow fuzzy white-tipped tails formed from code in my back, and I grabbed Ness’s hands, jumping and initiating flight.
“Police office, right?” I asked.
“That would be it, so yes! You know where you’re going?” Ness replied.
“Of course I do! Don’t question my knowledge!” I yelled, flying higher until I could achieve max speed. Flying is pretty fun. You can go just about anywhere, but it’s also dangerous because you’ll fall to your death if the power runs out. It didn’t take long for us to arrive at the police station this time, since we cut across a lake to arrive, but our question period with Sonic really set us back. Are we even gonna get back in time for lunch? We walked in and went up to the front desk.
“Uh, excuse me! We found something important!” I called. One of the policemen turned around and walked up to the desk, ready to take our evidence. “Ness, you wanna handle this one? I don't think I should interfere,” I whispered. Ness turned to me and nodded.
“Thank you, Amber. I will handle it.” he said. He turned around to the policeman and started explaining. “I… was in Home Economics with my friend, fuzzy pickles, and when I looked in my pockets, I found something that hadn’t been in there before this morning. It was an anonymous note, which said they kidnapped my sister, Tracy Michelin, fuzzy pickles, and explained why they killed my otōsan.” Ness continued to speak in Japanese, starting to cry a little while he was explaining his situation at home. I’m assuming otōsan means dad? It seems like the right word, but I’m clueless with Nintendopolis’s second language. Ness finished talking as he handed the policeman the letter, watching him like a hawk to make sure he didn't do anything to it.
“We’ve received other tips about this incident this morning, actually. This was the missing piece of the puzzle. Now we know who the kidnapper is and why they’re doing it. Thank you, Ness,” stated the officer. He hurried off to the back room as we headed out. I suddenly wondered why Ness never seemed to be home, and why he never seemed to have any sort of life outside hanging with me and Mr. Game.
“Is that why you’re never at home? Because of your whole family situation?” I asked, hoping I hadn't triggered something painful in Ness.
“No, fuzzy pickles. There’s two reasons: that, and being around your family, though it’s mainly your family. Fuzzy pickles, I want to help you and Mr. Game every way I can.” Ness finished. I feel like I can understand what what he’s going through is like. Ugh. Suddenly, I heard an excited squeal coming from Ness.
“Amber! Amber! I remember more of it! The song’s fourth piece!” Ness exclaimed. “I think it was when I told you this morning about the fuzzy pickles, fuzzy pickles!” Wow, the irony in that statement. I'm never going to get why exactly Ness says fuzzy pickles instead of anything else, but I guess he can't do anything about it.
“Oh my Arceus, really? Awesome! Maybe when we get to your house tonight, you can play it!” I replied. See, back when Ness was ridding the world of Giygas, he needed to find all eight pieces to a song for some reason. But when the fuzzy pickles came back, he forgot the song. Now, it looks like he’s remembering parts of the song when milestones happen, like when Ness confessed to me about his tic disorder. I wonder what’ll happen when he remembers the entire song. I jumped up and initiated flight again after we exited the bank, grabbing Ness’s arms and flying towards the bank.
“Where are we going, fuzzy pickles?” asked Ness.
“To the bank, we’re getting the Pokos for you, remember?” I answered.
“Right! Keep going, then. Fuzzy pickles! I was hoping we could head back to school for lunch, but I think we’ll be fine for now.” A quick tip for if you ever grow tails and fly: Don’t exhaust yourself lifting someone. You’ll get tired while flying. From my house, it takes about thirty-five minutes to get to the bank, and from the Academy, it’s twenty, so it shouldn’t take too long to get there. When the bank came into view, many people were bustling in the shops around it, including that Benjamin kid and a few Quartasians. Wait, I think it was just one. Was it? I can’t remember. But the Quartasian went in for five minutes, came back out, and started running. That looked a bit shady, but we don’t have any time to go back to the police department. Oh well, you can’t get them all. I heard a buzzing sound behind me. “Amber, has it almost been half an hour? We’re losing altitude!” yelled Ness. I looked behind me and saw that the tails were fading!
“Oh no, it has! We need to get down fast!” I cried. I stopped propelling and let us fall slowly to the ground, touching down near the entrance to the bank. “Well, we’re here. Once we get the Pokos, we can go back and eat!” I stated. We walked inside the building, a professional-looking place with periwinkle blue walls and pink tulips in pots hanging over the tellers. Off to the left, there was a small area with dark blue comfy chairs and a small TV set onto cooking shows. The floor was made of grey tiles, and there weren’t many people in the lineups, so me and Ness stepped in line and waited until we could check my bank account with a teller.
“Hello!” we greeted as we stepped up to the front desk. “Uhh, I’d like to withdraw 100 Pokos from my bank account, please!” I finished. The teller nodded and turned to his computer, typing furiously to get the result. “Gimme a second and it can be done,” he replied. Me and Ness waited for a few minutes while search results came up. “Your name is…?” he questioned.
“Oh, it’s Amber Tzaziki,” I responded. “If I’m not the only one, my PIN is 4263.”
“Four, two… G… A… M E.” muttered Ness to himself. He came closer and whispered. “You PIN is GAME. Fuzzy pickles, what would it be without Mr. Game, Amber?” That was actually a tough question. Mr. Game’s filled an awfully big hole in my life.
“Uhh, it’d be… um… uhh…” I tried to find an answer but couldn’t.
“…I remember now, the day your family was taken from you. It was the first time I had seen anyone that upset. Fuzzy pickles. You disappeared and came back, determined to get your life’s purpose back. And you got it back, fuzzy pickles. But how long will it last?” stated Ness. He had a stern look in his eyes, almost like he was reading my mind. In my heart, I knew he was. It was his nature to try to help people. "Sorry about exploding on you earlier, by the way. I really didn't mean it, fuzzy pickles."
“Stop using telepathy on me! Even if you do know what’s going on in there, you’ll never understand it!” I demanded. At that moment, the teller finished his search and provided the results.
“Miss Tzaziki, it appears you have nothing deposited in your account. If you still want the 100 Pokos, it’ll have to be a loan,” he said. Wait… what the f—
“WHAT?! I SWEAR I HAD 390 POKOS IN THERE! WHAT THE NETHER HAPPENED TO IT ALL?!” I screamed. Ness zapped me with tiny PSI Thunder sparks, and I flinched for a moment. I was ready to punch the first person who p—Yes, I know to be polite—who ticked me off! “NESS, DON’T DO IT AGAIN!” I shouted.
“When was the last recorded activity in the account, fuzzy pickles?” asked Ness. He tried to keep himself from crying, and was doing a pretty good job of it. “Let’s see here… it was about ten minutes ago.” answered the teller. The stalker had attacked me like he did Ness!
But as I would later learn, it wasn’t Ness. It was a threat I hadn’t ever expected. A threat I shouldn't have even expected to do what they did.
It was not long after my unexpected slumber that I knew I had to get my plan into motion. I was not going to let the stalker take one of the most important people away from me, and not in a time like this. Rising from my desk so as to not disturb the other students, I forced the question to leave the classroom out.
“Umm, Mr. Baker…” I began to ask, attempting to look Mr. Baker in the eyes through my guilt of having to skip class. Mr. Baker was fiddling with a file folder and its contents at Father’s desk. He appeared to have not heard me and continued with his fumbling. “Excuse me?” I tried again.
“Oh, um, what do you need?” mumbled Mr. Baker in response, barely having paid attention to what I had said. He pulled out a stack of papers from the folder and shuffled through them slowly. Upon a closer look, I noticed their similarity to field trip forms. Like I needed to deal with another one of those. Normally, I play sick on the day they happen so that I can avoid being singled out for being extremely poor and having to stay behind in the classroom, but some of the Inkling Immersion students have noticed a pattern and have started teasing me about it, which means I might need a new ploy soon.
“May I please step out of the classroom for a while?”
“Oh, uh huh. Just don’t be too long. Make sure you close the door when you leave,” replied Mr. Baker in a concentrated daze. How was I getting so lucky? I feel slightly remorseful now, for Mr. Baker does not know what he is allowing me to do! Why was I even going ahead with this? Being careful as to not disturb the other students, I slowly tiptoed out of the room, carefully scanning my surroundings before I left. I noticed many of my peers had by now lost interest in the tapes, throwing paper airplanes and texting with each other from either side of the room. Seeing this disinterest in Father’s works made me feel disheartened. He was someone I cherished deeply, and everything of his that I have the chance to keep or see, I keep close to my heart. The one person I noticed had continued watching the films was Benjamin, who instead stared blankly into the television screen. He picked up the stuffed husky on his desk and held it close to him before turning around and staring at me with a mystical, wide-eyed look in his face. Embarrassed, I quickly turned away and hurried on my way, dashing down the hallway against my normal behaviour. However, I realized something unexpected, and to an extent, frightening was behind me when I heard a female voice behind me.
“Benji, where are you going?! You can’t go leaving class like this!” scolded Sakura from behind me. She stopped on the stairs for a moment to pull something out, but Benjamin, who was far ahead of her, would not stop. He kept running forward with a determined look on his face.
“I see something… Bad things happen…” he muttered under his breath, jumping down the stairs when he was about five steps to the floor and continuing to pursue me. His voice almost seemed to shake for a moment. Knowing that I would be caught at my current pace, I had no choice to push myself further and sprint, the scenery of rainbow shrapnel and see-through classroom walls blurring as I ran by. I turned on the first right and went down the stairs, taking the second left available and dashing out into the office lobby. Why was something dangerous constantly doomed to happen as events set themselves up for the best outcome? It is like the world wants me to suffer the agony of being so close but yet so far from my goals! As I looked behind me to check the distance between Benjamin and myself, I noticed the serious, unwavering look on his face, as if he were insistent on getting something from me. I kept running through the halls and detoured into the library, hoping to have lost the two running after me by running in between the aisles to confuse the duo, and thankfully, that is what happened. I hid behind a bookshelf near the back of the room and listened for any conversations Benjamin and Sakura had through the wall, as they had moved towards the corner, most likely so Sakura could scold Benjamin without humiliating him. It seemed as if people looked down on him to begin with, like people do with me. I almost felt bad for him, knowing someone else experienced the torment I experienced on a daily basis.
“Where he go?” asked Benjamin, looking around his surroundings and getting slightly panicked. Sakura quieted him as he started to whine quietly.
“I don’t know, Benji. I think I saw him go into the library, but I’m not sure.”
“Can check library?” Sakura shook her head as if she were irritated, sighing.
“No, we have to get back to class! You can’t just run off like this and expect to get away with it!”
“But… bad things… Bad things happen if leave alone…” Benjamin continued to look around, eventually running into the library himself and ignoring any resistance from Sakura, forcing her to follow. This was not good at all. I ordered myself to keep calm as he ravaged through the aisles of books in search of me. As he approached my hiding spot, however, Benjamin turned away to read the back synopsis of a popular novel (of which the title mentioned a sort of elemental collection, possibly a spectrum), so I saw an opportunity to escape. I dashed away from the bookcase and out through the exit to find myself outside the Academy, now faced with the challenge of running to the bank without getting lost or being caught by the two students chasing me. As I sprinted down the sidewalk in the sunshine, I noticed Sakura behind me trying to hold back Benjamin. He had found me and insisted on pursuing me. Ugh… I felt myself panicking and took a detour down a rather suspicious alley. I really do not feel safe here at all… I feel something about this alley… What is the street name? This reminds me of Superflat––Auugh! I snagged my right foot on an uneven piece of concrete sidewalk tiling, hitting the concrete with my elbows out and lying helplessly as Benjamin and Sakura surrounded me.
“Why are you here…?” I asked, brushing myself off and getting back up. I felt myself starting to crack under the pressure of being confronted about my classroom leave.
“Benjamin, you better explain yourself! This better be worth skipping class!” scolded Sakura, glaring at him. Benjamin refocused his attention to the ground.
“Saw bad things happen if leave,” he muttered softly. “Get hurt if let get money…” I was astounded. This boy somehow knew I was going to withdraw the money from Amber’s bank account! What had I done to tell him that?! How did he know for sure that I would be injured if I was allowed to bail out Emily, too? The future could go any way!
“H-How did you k-k-know?!” I exclaimed in shock. It was hard to believe someone could even remotely get that idea. For all they know, I could be running to the next city or simply going to an appointment. I could also be bailing out my girlfriend, but how one would get that idea, I would not be able to tell you.
“Saw eyes, and saw secrets. Saw the plans…” At this point, Benjamin was at a level of accurate clairvoyance that made me feel extremely unsettled. How could I feel comfortable knowing I was around someone who looked into my eyes and learned of my mission to bail Emily? How could one even do as such?
“You looked into my eyes… and saw my plans?” I asked, hoping to have probed a little further into the matter. I felt my throat tensing up as I heard the answer.
“I look in eyes, and I can read minds. I see secrets, locked away…” Benjamin stared fiercely into my eyes, and I had the uneasy feeling that even more was going to be revealed. I nervously reached for the edges of my tank top and pulled on them as I felt my eyes widening in fear. I had a reason to be afraid, too.
“Why bail out? Why steal money?” Benjamin seemed concerned now. He held his stuffed husky close to his chest at this point, giving me a curious look. “Money not make better.”
“Huh?” I blurted, having not understood a word of his second sentence.
“He’s saying money won’t make things better. It won’t fix your problems,” replied Sakura, as if she knew exactly what I was asking about. She knew exactly what Benjamin had tried to say, which surprised me a little. How come Benjamin could not speak in fluid sentences? I went to ask, but I was interrupted almost instantly.
“Stop there; I know what you’re gonna ask. Benji’s got something called autism. It’s different for everyone with it, and it makes some things harder for him—like talking—but it doesn’t make him any less than us, so don’t go making any hurtful comments like that Arceusdamn jerk Amber!” Sakura’s voice started to crack, getting loud enough to start screeching. Benjamin suddenly looked as if he had been stabbed in the back by a family member and started to yell at Sakura. Was this something I was not supposed to know? Was I supposed to respond to the situation at hand?
“Why you tell him?!” he cried, lashing out with a punch before bursting into tears and kneeling onto the grassy soil, causing Sakura to start arguing with him about something. I felt slightly embarrassed to have been in the crossfire of an argument over something I was not entirely sure what to say about. Having something appearing to be a secret thrown into your face suddenly followed by a commotion of two people fighting is not exactly something I would expect to happen normally. However, it created an opportunity to continue my plan to bail Emily unnoticed! Before I left, Sakura reached into her pocket and handed me a scrap piece of paper.
“Here, Benjamin wanted you to have this,” she said while gritting her teeth. I snatched the paper quickly and shoved it into my pocket before running off too fast for me to thank Sakura at all, although I did feel slightly guilty not making an effort to do as such. My urge to be a hero was impairing my mannerisms, and it is not making me feel the best about my choices. When I had been stopped by Benjamin and Sakura, I just so happened to have been a block away from the bank, so I sprinted across the road dangerously into oncoming traffic, barely escaping a traffic accident, and ran inside the bank as fast as I could, approaching an ATM.
All you have to do is this, I told myself. Get the Pokos and get Emily. If I can succeed with that, I can finally be the hero… I punched in Amber’s PIN as I inserted her debit card into the slot next to the screen, watching in awe as the 20 Poko bills started raining out. It was only now that I remembered the sheet Sakura had given me. Why would Benjamin want to give me something? I have barely spoken with him before today, and generally tend to forget he is in my classes, although I am kind to him when I run into him and he waves hello. I pulled out the note and unfolded it, finding something quite surprising to me inside:
Hey there, Barry. I know it’s probably a bit surprising that I’ve given this to you out of nowhere, and the way I’ve written this probably isn’t what you’re expecting from me, but I want to tell you something. I’m really grateful for how you’ve treated me like a normal person every time we pass by in the hallways, or we’re by each other in the lunch line. Below is my PokéGear number, so send me a text and we can become friends then. ^v^
2846-124-7753
Much to Benjamin’s prediction, the note surprised me a lot. The two of us had barely interacted, and now he wanted me to have his PokéGear number? The fact that he struggled with speech and yet could write just like a normal person or better intrigued me. Why did Benjamin want to be my friend? Does he pity me? I carefully put the note back into my pocket and grabbed the Pokos that had been dispensed, before turning around and seeing a mysterious person in a black cloak. I could not identify anything about them, which frightened me. Somehow, I felt the same awful vibe I felt in the science lab yesterday. Could this be…?
“…” Silently, they seemed to tense up before I saw a robe-covered fist fly into my face, feeling myself flying into the wall nearby.
“Auuuuuugh!” I cried. I slammed into the wall and slumped to the floor, only now realizing the Pokos I had withdrawn had been stolen from me. I must have dropped them when I was punched! How could my day get worse than this?! I cannot let myself lose everything I worked for today just to have it stolen! I hastily gave chase, running out of the bank and to the sidewalk, where I saw the cloaked being standing still, waiting for me to approach.
“Don’t deny it. You know I’ve got what you want.” The cloaked figure seemed to almost be taunting me, flashing the Pokos at me in my mind. Their voice was high-pitched and sounded like that of a young child, although I thought it was more of a man’s voice. I lost my mind and immediately rushed the being, jumping him when I got close enough and instantly pulled him to the ground, punching him as many times as I could in the face. The cloak seemed to have a sort of pin, however, so the facial features were not revealed through the cloak coming off. They then quickly managed to roll over and start punching me, and I winced as each hit came upon me. Their punches were quite strong, and I felt myself weakening. Gathering the little strength I had left, I kicked the cloaked figure, but it had no damaging effect on them, merely unbalancing them for a moment before they continued their onslaught. Fearing I was doomed to another trip to the emergency room, I looked around me for anything I could use as a sort of weapon and found a rock, picking it up and slamming it into the mysterious being’s head, thankfully slightly injuring them. They dropped the Pokos they had stolen and laid off for a minute, allowing me to regain my breath for a few moments, before the cloaked being gave one last kick and ran off, exposing a small amount of themselves, which was hair… Blonde hair. Medium length… blonde hair…
“You wouldn’t mess with me if you knew who the Nether I was!!” screamed the figure before disappearing into the shadows, whose voice seemed to sound more female now. Was… was that really who I think it was? It cannot have been… Shaken, I seized a broken bike on the side of the road and cycled my way to the Onett Juvenile Jail, where I would finally succeed in bailing out Emily. My wounds would have to wait until later, when I bailed Emily out and got her home safely. Parking the bike and not caring if it were stolen or not, I strode carefully into the building and slid the money I had withdrawn under the glass and through to the attendant working the station. The police station looked exactly how I imagined it. The walls and concrete pillars were painted with beige and brown tones, the officers working the counters surrounded in a glass barrier and armed with a pistol in case a criminal came in. The lights were dimming and were giving off a more yellow light, making the people sitting in chairs waiting to be assisted with reports seem even scarier and sketchy than they were before. The officers stared at me with an unblinking eye, as if to say I were poor and a disgrace, and I felt unwelcome. Nonetheless, I pushed forward and cleared my throat to speak.
“I am here to bail Emily Quartam,” I declared firmly. The attendant quietly put the Pokos into a drawer and tightly grabbed my arms, leading me down the cells to where Emily was locked up. The way I was being grabbed reminded me horribly of when I was handcuffed yesterday, making me shiver in nervousness and fear what was coming ahead. Emily had been crying hard and had her face buried into her hands, as if she wanted to hide away from the world and never come back. No one would ever understand Emily had not truly meant harm. No one would know the girl I knew in her, the girl hidden under the violent picture media had painted of her. She turned her face away from the wall as she heard us approaching, and when she saw me, her face instantly lit up with excitement.
“B-Barry… It’s you!!” she cried, rising to her feet and grabbing the cell bars. “Why are you here? Why are you bailing me?!”
“I-I could never l-leave you locked u-u-up like this,” I replied with a warm smile, tears forming in my eyes and stuttering occurring due to my nervousness due to being around Emily. The policeman pulled a small key from his pocket and unlocked the jail cell holding my precious girlfriend, and we instantaneously hugged tightly as Emily broke free. I felt ecstatic to have Emily back. Without her, I do not know where I would be today, or if recent events would have ever happened. She had caused the court incident. She caused me to gain the Pokos I had; caused Amber to break us up; caused me to bail her out. Without her, although the times have constantly been tragic in my life even with her around, I would have not even half the self-esteem I had today.
“H-How am I going t-t-to get home? I c-can’t let A-Amber see me…” Emily was crying into my shoulder, and I tried my best to comfort her, despite my subpar abilities at keeping myself substantially comforted.
“Emily, I promise I will get you home without them seeing you,” I pledged, my voice trembling. Tears were welling up in my eyes, and I had to push myself to my emotional limits to prevent myself from breaking down. How could I have possibly done this to Amber? How could I have betrayed her so much? To bail out my own girlfriend, and to steal the money of the girl who saved my life to do as such? What did she do to deserve this? Oh, right––Amber started dating Ness without telling me! She deserves it! But what did Emily do to deserve this? Why was I even here?! I hastily lifted Emily into my arms and started running out of the jail despite my fatigue, running out into the open just as I had imagined it: running as if the building had been exploding, carrying Emily in my arms and being victorious. It was only now that I felt like a true hero… something I wanted for my entire life. I hurried through the streets, running through oncoming traffic and crashing into other people and knocking them down, eventually arriving at a hill that brought too many memories for me back. Merely thinking about them almost forced me into crying, something I did not want to show to Emily. Crying in front of her would make me look weak, and although I was already an emotionally weak person by nature, I wanted to be my best for Emily, and breaking down would not be something I would allow myself to do. I had to show my girlfriend I was a hero, a strong hero. Crying would have to wait until solitude arrived.
“Here, Emily. No one can see you if you walk down this path.” The hill was quite grassy, with vivid green grass and half-shriveled dandelions scattered around the soil. The sun was shining brightly on the field, and further down directly in front of me was an ivy-lined alleyway, leading to a housing complex and a backroad on the way to the Academy. Emily’s home awaited her down that alley, on a side road ten minutes from the housing complex. Her house was painted a lavish purple on the outside, having been tended to well, unlike our home. Also unlike our home, Emily’s home had multiple floors, and not only a computer that was decent and recent, but she also had comfortable bedding and a fridge that stayed full, or at the very least half-filled. She at least can avoid the extreme poverty I live!
“T-Thank you, Barry…” Emily hugged me tightly one last time before hurrying off towards the alleyway, hiding her face as to not show her tears. I looked around me to make sure no one was watching, seeing the bright field and the sky seeming to hold hope and destiny… and I could not hold my feelings back anymore. I feel to my knees on the velvet-like grass, busting into tears and hiding my face in my hands. What had I just done?! Why had I bailed out Emily? How did I bail out Emily? Why did I betray Amber? Why did I hate myself for the things I insisted would make me a hero?! I cannot deal with this anymore!! As I lifted myself up from the hill while still crying heavily, a Post-It Note fluttered in the air in my direction, seeming to have come from down the alley. Down the alley… I dashed over and snatched the note out of the air, unfolding it and finding something that made me hate myself even more, as if I could not regret my actions more than I already did:
I’m glad you realize the terrible mistake you made. You’re an idiot for having made the choices you did! You’ll never become the hero you wish to be! You’re a Dark, and will always be! Just because the writing doesn’t look like Emily’s doesn’t mean it isn’t hers, for the record... Heh.
H-How… How… I cannot… How would that be? How can one even change their writing style? What was this note trying to imply? Suddenly, I felt a small vibration inside my pocket, my PokéGear alerting me to a text. Slowly pulling it out and unlocking it, I found a message I never expected to find this soon.
Hey Barry, it’s Benjamin. Sorry about that meltdown earlier. I wasn’t expecting Sakura to drop that information like she did. Anyways, where have you gone, and what are you doing? You sort of went towards the bank and disappeared. The lunch bell already went, too, and I think Amber’s getting worried about you. By the way, I managed to get your PokéGear number through Amber, so don’t be surprised by this message.
Great, now others were raising their suspicion of my disappearance. Time to fake another excuse! I tried my hardest to make up a response and typed it in on the finicky phone keyboard, which consisted of twelve keys and worked like a home line phone. My typing on such keyboards was surprisingly fast, for I have adapted to them over the years, mainly when texting Amber for backup after being bullied by other classmates.
i had to go to a doctors appt. not sure when im getting back to school but i should be back before it ends
I sighed in relief and put the phone back into my pocket, slowly walking back to the Academy through the alley and starting to regret my choices to a great extent.
Had I really been so ill-advised? Was the stalker really who I thought it was? They were right. What an idiot I was.
“Umm, Mr. Baker…” I began to ask, attempting to look Mr. Baker in the eyes through my guilt of having to skip class. Mr. Baker was fiddling with a file folder and its contents at Father’s desk. He appeared to have not heard me and continued with his fumbling. “Excuse me?” I tried again.
“Oh, um, what do you need?” mumbled Mr. Baker in response, barely having paid attention to what I had said. He pulled out a stack of papers from the folder and shuffled through them slowly. Upon a closer look, I noticed their similarity to field trip forms. Like I needed to deal with another one of those. Normally, I play sick on the day they happen so that I can avoid being singled out for being extremely poor and having to stay behind in the classroom, but some of the Inkling Immersion students have noticed a pattern and have started teasing me about it, which means I might need a new ploy soon.
“May I please step out of the classroom for a while?”
“Oh, uh huh. Just don’t be too long. Make sure you close the door when you leave,” replied Mr. Baker in a concentrated daze. How was I getting so lucky? I feel slightly remorseful now, for Mr. Baker does not know what he is allowing me to do! Why was I even going ahead with this? Being careful as to not disturb the other students, I slowly tiptoed out of the room, carefully scanning my surroundings before I left. I noticed many of my peers had by now lost interest in the tapes, throwing paper airplanes and texting with each other from either side of the room. Seeing this disinterest in Father’s works made me feel disheartened. He was someone I cherished deeply, and everything of his that I have the chance to keep or see, I keep close to my heart. The one person I noticed had continued watching the films was Benjamin, who instead stared blankly into the television screen. He picked up the stuffed husky on his desk and held it close to him before turning around and staring at me with a mystical, wide-eyed look in his face. Embarrassed, I quickly turned away and hurried on my way, dashing down the hallway against my normal behaviour. However, I realized something unexpected, and to an extent, frightening was behind me when I heard a female voice behind me.
“Benji, where are you going?! You can’t go leaving class like this!” scolded Sakura from behind me. She stopped on the stairs for a moment to pull something out, but Benjamin, who was far ahead of her, would not stop. He kept running forward with a determined look on his face.
“I see something… Bad things happen…” he muttered under his breath, jumping down the stairs when he was about five steps to the floor and continuing to pursue me. His voice almost seemed to shake for a moment. Knowing that I would be caught at my current pace, I had no choice to push myself further and sprint, the scenery of rainbow shrapnel and see-through classroom walls blurring as I ran by. I turned on the first right and went down the stairs, taking the second left available and dashing out into the office lobby. Why was something dangerous constantly doomed to happen as events set themselves up for the best outcome? It is like the world wants me to suffer the agony of being so close but yet so far from my goals! As I looked behind me to check the distance between Benjamin and myself, I noticed the serious, unwavering look on his face, as if he were insistent on getting something from me. I kept running through the halls and detoured into the library, hoping to have lost the two running after me by running in between the aisles to confuse the duo, and thankfully, that is what happened. I hid behind a bookshelf near the back of the room and listened for any conversations Benjamin and Sakura had through the wall, as they had moved towards the corner, most likely so Sakura could scold Benjamin without humiliating him. It seemed as if people looked down on him to begin with, like people do with me. I almost felt bad for him, knowing someone else experienced the torment I experienced on a daily basis.
“Where he go?” asked Benjamin, looking around his surroundings and getting slightly panicked. Sakura quieted him as he started to whine quietly.
“I don’t know, Benji. I think I saw him go into the library, but I’m not sure.”
“Can check library?” Sakura shook her head as if she were irritated, sighing.
“No, we have to get back to class! You can’t just run off like this and expect to get away with it!”
“But… bad things… Bad things happen if leave alone…” Benjamin continued to look around, eventually running into the library himself and ignoring any resistance from Sakura, forcing her to follow. This was not good at all. I ordered myself to keep calm as he ravaged through the aisles of books in search of me. As he approached my hiding spot, however, Benjamin turned away to read the back synopsis of a popular novel (of which the title mentioned a sort of elemental collection, possibly a spectrum), so I saw an opportunity to escape. I dashed away from the bookcase and out through the exit to find myself outside the Academy, now faced with the challenge of running to the bank without getting lost or being caught by the two students chasing me. As I sprinted down the sidewalk in the sunshine, I noticed Sakura behind me trying to hold back Benjamin. He had found me and insisted on pursuing me. Ugh… I felt myself panicking and took a detour down a rather suspicious alley. I really do not feel safe here at all… I feel something about this alley… What is the street name? This reminds me of Superflat––Auugh! I snagged my right foot on an uneven piece of concrete sidewalk tiling, hitting the concrete with my elbows out and lying helplessly as Benjamin and Sakura surrounded me.
“Why are you here…?” I asked, brushing myself off and getting back up. I felt myself starting to crack under the pressure of being confronted about my classroom leave.
“Benjamin, you better explain yourself! This better be worth skipping class!” scolded Sakura, glaring at him. Benjamin refocused his attention to the ground.
“Saw bad things happen if leave,” he muttered softly. “Get hurt if let get money…” I was astounded. This boy somehow knew I was going to withdraw the money from Amber’s bank account! What had I done to tell him that?! How did he know for sure that I would be injured if I was allowed to bail out Emily, too? The future could go any way!
“H-How did you k-k-know?!” I exclaimed in shock. It was hard to believe someone could even remotely get that idea. For all they know, I could be running to the next city or simply going to an appointment. I could also be bailing out my girlfriend, but how one would get that idea, I would not be able to tell you.
“Saw eyes, and saw secrets. Saw the plans…” At this point, Benjamin was at a level of accurate clairvoyance that made me feel extremely unsettled. How could I feel comfortable knowing I was around someone who looked into my eyes and learned of my mission to bail Emily? How could one even do as such?
“You looked into my eyes… and saw my plans?” I asked, hoping to have probed a little further into the matter. I felt my throat tensing up as I heard the answer.
“I look in eyes, and I can read minds. I see secrets, locked away…” Benjamin stared fiercely into my eyes, and I had the uneasy feeling that even more was going to be revealed. I nervously reached for the edges of my tank top and pulled on them as I felt my eyes widening in fear. I had a reason to be afraid, too.
“Why bail out? Why steal money?” Benjamin seemed concerned now. He held his stuffed husky close to his chest at this point, giving me a curious look. “Money not make better.”
“Huh?” I blurted, having not understood a word of his second sentence.
“He’s saying money won’t make things better. It won’t fix your problems,” replied Sakura, as if she knew exactly what I was asking about. She knew exactly what Benjamin had tried to say, which surprised me a little. How come Benjamin could not speak in fluid sentences? I went to ask, but I was interrupted almost instantly.
“Stop there; I know what you’re gonna ask. Benji’s got something called autism. It’s different for everyone with it, and it makes some things harder for him—like talking—but it doesn’t make him any less than us, so don’t go making any hurtful comments like that Arceusdamn jerk Amber!” Sakura’s voice started to crack, getting loud enough to start screeching. Benjamin suddenly looked as if he had been stabbed in the back by a family member and started to yell at Sakura. Was this something I was not supposed to know? Was I supposed to respond to the situation at hand?
“Why you tell him?!” he cried, lashing out with a punch before bursting into tears and kneeling onto the grassy soil, causing Sakura to start arguing with him about something. I felt slightly embarrassed to have been in the crossfire of an argument over something I was not entirely sure what to say about. Having something appearing to be a secret thrown into your face suddenly followed by a commotion of two people fighting is not exactly something I would expect to happen normally. However, it created an opportunity to continue my plan to bail Emily unnoticed! Before I left, Sakura reached into her pocket and handed me a scrap piece of paper.
“Here, Benjamin wanted you to have this,” she said while gritting her teeth. I snatched the paper quickly and shoved it into my pocket before running off too fast for me to thank Sakura at all, although I did feel slightly guilty not making an effort to do as such. My urge to be a hero was impairing my mannerisms, and it is not making me feel the best about my choices. When I had been stopped by Benjamin and Sakura, I just so happened to have been a block away from the bank, so I sprinted across the road dangerously into oncoming traffic, barely escaping a traffic accident, and ran inside the bank as fast as I could, approaching an ATM.
All you have to do is this, I told myself. Get the Pokos and get Emily. If I can succeed with that, I can finally be the hero… I punched in Amber’s PIN as I inserted her debit card into the slot next to the screen, watching in awe as the 20 Poko bills started raining out. It was only now that I remembered the sheet Sakura had given me. Why would Benjamin want to give me something? I have barely spoken with him before today, and generally tend to forget he is in my classes, although I am kind to him when I run into him and he waves hello. I pulled out the note and unfolded it, finding something quite surprising to me inside:
Hey there, Barry. I know it’s probably a bit surprising that I’ve given this to you out of nowhere, and the way I’ve written this probably isn’t what you’re expecting from me, but I want to tell you something. I’m really grateful for how you’ve treated me like a normal person every time we pass by in the hallways, or we’re by each other in the lunch line. Below is my PokéGear number, so send me a text and we can become friends then. ^v^
2846-124-7753
Much to Benjamin’s prediction, the note surprised me a lot. The two of us had barely interacted, and now he wanted me to have his PokéGear number? The fact that he struggled with speech and yet could write just like a normal person or better intrigued me. Why did Benjamin want to be my friend? Does he pity me? I carefully put the note back into my pocket and grabbed the Pokos that had been dispensed, before turning around and seeing a mysterious person in a black cloak. I could not identify anything about them, which frightened me. Somehow, I felt the same awful vibe I felt in the science lab yesterday. Could this be…?
“…” Silently, they seemed to tense up before I saw a robe-covered fist fly into my face, feeling myself flying into the wall nearby.
“Auuuuuugh!” I cried. I slammed into the wall and slumped to the floor, only now realizing the Pokos I had withdrawn had been stolen from me. I must have dropped them when I was punched! How could my day get worse than this?! I cannot let myself lose everything I worked for today just to have it stolen! I hastily gave chase, running out of the bank and to the sidewalk, where I saw the cloaked being standing still, waiting for me to approach.
“Don’t deny it. You know I’ve got what you want.” The cloaked figure seemed to almost be taunting me, flashing the Pokos at me in my mind. Their voice was high-pitched and sounded like that of a young child, although I thought it was more of a man’s voice. I lost my mind and immediately rushed the being, jumping him when I got close enough and instantly pulled him to the ground, punching him as many times as I could in the face. The cloak seemed to have a sort of pin, however, so the facial features were not revealed through the cloak coming off. They then quickly managed to roll over and start punching me, and I winced as each hit came upon me. Their punches were quite strong, and I felt myself weakening. Gathering the little strength I had left, I kicked the cloaked figure, but it had no damaging effect on them, merely unbalancing them for a moment before they continued their onslaught. Fearing I was doomed to another trip to the emergency room, I looked around me for anything I could use as a sort of weapon and found a rock, picking it up and slamming it into the mysterious being’s head, thankfully slightly injuring them. They dropped the Pokos they had stolen and laid off for a minute, allowing me to regain my breath for a few moments, before the cloaked being gave one last kick and ran off, exposing a small amount of themselves, which was hair… Blonde hair. Medium length… blonde hair…
“You wouldn’t mess with me if you knew who the Nether I was!!” screamed the figure before disappearing into the shadows, whose voice seemed to sound more female now. Was… was that really who I think it was? It cannot have been… Shaken, I seized a broken bike on the side of the road and cycled my way to the Onett Juvenile Jail, where I would finally succeed in bailing out Emily. My wounds would have to wait until later, when I bailed Emily out and got her home safely. Parking the bike and not caring if it were stolen or not, I strode carefully into the building and slid the money I had withdrawn under the glass and through to the attendant working the station. The police station looked exactly how I imagined it. The walls and concrete pillars were painted with beige and brown tones, the officers working the counters surrounded in a glass barrier and armed with a pistol in case a criminal came in. The lights were dimming and were giving off a more yellow light, making the people sitting in chairs waiting to be assisted with reports seem even scarier and sketchy than they were before. The officers stared at me with an unblinking eye, as if to say I were poor and a disgrace, and I felt unwelcome. Nonetheless, I pushed forward and cleared my throat to speak.
“I am here to bail Emily Quartam,” I declared firmly. The attendant quietly put the Pokos into a drawer and tightly grabbed my arms, leading me down the cells to where Emily was locked up. The way I was being grabbed reminded me horribly of when I was handcuffed yesterday, making me shiver in nervousness and fear what was coming ahead. Emily had been crying hard and had her face buried into her hands, as if she wanted to hide away from the world and never come back. No one would ever understand Emily had not truly meant harm. No one would know the girl I knew in her, the girl hidden under the violent picture media had painted of her. She turned her face away from the wall as she heard us approaching, and when she saw me, her face instantly lit up with excitement.
“B-Barry… It’s you!!” she cried, rising to her feet and grabbing the cell bars. “Why are you here? Why are you bailing me?!”
“I-I could never l-leave you locked u-u-up like this,” I replied with a warm smile, tears forming in my eyes and stuttering occurring due to my nervousness due to being around Emily. The policeman pulled a small key from his pocket and unlocked the jail cell holding my precious girlfriend, and we instantaneously hugged tightly as Emily broke free. I felt ecstatic to have Emily back. Without her, I do not know where I would be today, or if recent events would have ever happened. She had caused the court incident. She caused me to gain the Pokos I had; caused Amber to break us up; caused me to bail her out. Without her, although the times have constantly been tragic in my life even with her around, I would have not even half the self-esteem I had today.
“H-How am I going t-t-to get home? I c-can’t let A-Amber see me…” Emily was crying into my shoulder, and I tried my best to comfort her, despite my subpar abilities at keeping myself substantially comforted.
“Emily, I promise I will get you home without them seeing you,” I pledged, my voice trembling. Tears were welling up in my eyes, and I had to push myself to my emotional limits to prevent myself from breaking down. How could I have possibly done this to Amber? How could I have betrayed her so much? To bail out my own girlfriend, and to steal the money of the girl who saved my life to do as such? What did she do to deserve this? Oh, right––Amber started dating Ness without telling me! She deserves it! But what did Emily do to deserve this? Why was I even here?! I hastily lifted Emily into my arms and started running out of the jail despite my fatigue, running out into the open just as I had imagined it: running as if the building had been exploding, carrying Emily in my arms and being victorious. It was only now that I felt like a true hero… something I wanted for my entire life. I hurried through the streets, running through oncoming traffic and crashing into other people and knocking them down, eventually arriving at a hill that brought too many memories for me back. Merely thinking about them almost forced me into crying, something I did not want to show to Emily. Crying in front of her would make me look weak, and although I was already an emotionally weak person by nature, I wanted to be my best for Emily, and breaking down would not be something I would allow myself to do. I had to show my girlfriend I was a hero, a strong hero. Crying would have to wait until solitude arrived.
“Here, Emily. No one can see you if you walk down this path.” The hill was quite grassy, with vivid green grass and half-shriveled dandelions scattered around the soil. The sun was shining brightly on the field, and further down directly in front of me was an ivy-lined alleyway, leading to a housing complex and a backroad on the way to the Academy. Emily’s home awaited her down that alley, on a side road ten minutes from the housing complex. Her house was painted a lavish purple on the outside, having been tended to well, unlike our home. Also unlike our home, Emily’s home had multiple floors, and not only a computer that was decent and recent, but she also had comfortable bedding and a fridge that stayed full, or at the very least half-filled. She at least can avoid the extreme poverty I live!
“T-Thank you, Barry…” Emily hugged me tightly one last time before hurrying off towards the alleyway, hiding her face as to not show her tears. I looked around me to make sure no one was watching, seeing the bright field and the sky seeming to hold hope and destiny… and I could not hold my feelings back anymore. I feel to my knees on the velvet-like grass, busting into tears and hiding my face in my hands. What had I just done?! Why had I bailed out Emily? How did I bail out Emily? Why did I betray Amber? Why did I hate myself for the things I insisted would make me a hero?! I cannot deal with this anymore!! As I lifted myself up from the hill while still crying heavily, a Post-It Note fluttered in the air in my direction, seeming to have come from down the alley. Down the alley… I dashed over and snatched the note out of the air, unfolding it and finding something that made me hate myself even more, as if I could not regret my actions more than I already did:
I’m glad you realize the terrible mistake you made. You’re an idiot for having made the choices you did! You’ll never become the hero you wish to be! You’re a Dark, and will always be! Just because the writing doesn’t look like Emily’s doesn’t mean it isn’t hers, for the record... Heh.
H-How… How… I cannot… How would that be? How can one even change their writing style? What was this note trying to imply? Suddenly, I felt a small vibration inside my pocket, my PokéGear alerting me to a text. Slowly pulling it out and unlocking it, I found a message I never expected to find this soon.
Hey Barry, it’s Benjamin. Sorry about that meltdown earlier. I wasn’t expecting Sakura to drop that information like she did. Anyways, where have you gone, and what are you doing? You sort of went towards the bank and disappeared. The lunch bell already went, too, and I think Amber’s getting worried about you. By the way, I managed to get your PokéGear number through Amber, so don’t be surprised by this message.
Great, now others were raising their suspicion of my disappearance. Time to fake another excuse! I tried my hardest to make up a response and typed it in on the finicky phone keyboard, which consisted of twelve keys and worked like a home line phone. My typing on such keyboards was surprisingly fast, for I have adapted to them over the years, mainly when texting Amber for backup after being bullied by other classmates.
i had to go to a doctors appt. not sure when im getting back to school but i should be back before it ends
I sighed in relief and put the phone back into my pocket, slowly walking back to the Academy through the alley and starting to regret my choices to a great extent.
Had I really been so ill-advised? Was the stalker really who I thought it was? They were right. What an idiot I was.
I was absolutely shocked. How did someone get into my bank account and take all our Pokos?! When our house was broken into on Sunday night, the stalker hadn’t touched a single thing! I even checked again to make sure when I went to bed last night, so if they broke in The fact had someone emptied my account meant someone must have broken in again, and I think it was that stupid Mr. Stalk-It Note!
“C’mon, Ness. Let’s get outta here before I strangle the nearest teller,” I demanded, grabbing Ness by the wrist and dragging him out of the bank and into the heart of Onett. The surrounding area was filled with shops and buildings side-by-side, people crowded on the sidewalks coming in and out of buildings almost constantly. The sun was shining brightly but covered by clouds, and the lighting made anything colourful stand out beautifully in the sun. North past the metropolis I was currently in with Ness was a more suburban area, mostly of roads which led the way to the police station and back to the Academy, which was our next destination. After all, even though I’d probably be likely to skip a bunch of classes for things like paying off debts and doing bills, I don’t wanna get in trouble for skipping! It won’t help my grades, which are low enough as they are. I don’t need to get myself kicked out.
“Amber, slow down! Fuzzy pickles, we might be able to find out who used your card by asking!” pleaded Ness, trying to stop me by planting his own feet into the ground but failing, getting himself dragged a few feet.
“And asking is gonna get us our answer, huh?” I asked. “You know how things work in Onett. It won’t get us anywhere.” I continued stomping my way back until Ness tried to stop me again, this time using his words to convince me.
“But you don’t know until you try! Just give it a shot, fuzzy pickles, Amber…” Ness took off his cap and held it in the hand that I didn’t have an iron grip on. “Besides… we might find out something about where Tracy went.” Shoot, I can’t fight that. Maybe we’ll be able to find some info on both events if we go back to the bank. I still highly doubt we will, though.
“Fine…” I sighed, stomping back into the bank and coming back up to the teller I’d screamed at earlier.
“W-What do you n-n-need?” he asked, seeming to still be shaken after my scene earlier.
“Fuzzy pickles, do you know who used Amber’s card?” requested Ness. The teller looked through his computer, probably at card usage history, and turned his attention back to me and Ness.
“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that. It’s one of our policies to keep customer information confidential,” the teller replied, brushing some of his hair out of his face and sighing, as if he knew he was gonna get chewed out again. “I don’t remember, anyways.”
“OF COURSE YOU—” I almost blew up again, but Ness cupped his hand over my mouth and stopped me.
“Do you happen to know anything about the disappearance of an 11-year old girl, fuzzy pickles? There was a kidnapping, and the victim is my sister,” Ness interrupted. He put his cap back on and brushed dust off his shirt as he waited for a response, breathing out heavily and wiping his eyes. I felt bad seeing Ness like this. If Mr. Game went missing, I’d spend day and night looking for him until I got him back or died trying. I knew Mrs. Michelin would be worried too. If she even knew Tracy was missing at this point, it wouldn’t help her current mental state at all.
“Uhh, I think I saw her getting shoved into a weird machine… Green dress, right? Black hair?” Ness’s face lit up and he leaned up on the counter.
“Yes! Yes! That’s her, fuzzy pickles!” he exclaimed. “Did you see who took her?”
“N-No, unfortunately,” said the teller, resuming to looking at the computer monitor. I heard screams coming from just outside the building which sounded like two people fighting over something pointless, but I ignored them, because finding Tracy was what was most important right now. Beating up the stalker for taking my debit card could wait until later, after school goes out for the day, if I can even track down the damn guy. (Or girl. Mr. Game insists they could be either, but I’m still betting on it being a guy.)
“B-But you saw the machine?” cried out Ness. His smile was still there, but it was shaky, and less confident.
“Yeah, I saw the machine. It was like a capsule. That’s all I’ve got, unfortunately. Everything I know, I saw on my way to work.”
“T-Thanks anyways. I really appreciate your cooperation,” finished Ness, this time grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me out of the bank towards the path back to the Academy, running all the way until we hit Polestar Crescent––normally about a ten minute walk, but only about two minutes by running this time––and letting go.
“And now you’re dragging me out!” I yelled, trying to take a dig at Ness’s sudden hypocrisy. “What’s up with that?”
“We have to find that machine,” muttered Ness under his breath with gritted teeth. “We can’t stop until we find Tracy. I can’t sleep or eat knowing she’s still missing. She could be dead for all we know!”
“I don’t think she’s dead. Even if there were a good enough motive for killing her, I think she’d be able to fend for herself,” I tried to comfort, not sure if it would work. Secretly, I knew there was a very good reason for Tracy to be killed. With his dad gone and his mom in hysterics, losing his sister would probably bring Ness past his breaking point, which would eliminate a threat to Eggman. Ness would be too concerned about grieving his family. He’d… I don’t want to say this, but… I think he’d want to join them. His family means too much to him. I don’t even know if I’d be able to stop him.
“And how in Arceus’s name would she do that?! She can’t run half a kilometer if one of the boys she chases asked her to, let alone defend herself from anyone out to kill her, fuzzy pickles!”
“Look, I just know it. She isn’t going to die. I… I just know. Let’s get back to the Academy for lunch,” I told Ness, lifting him up with my strength and rushing back to the Academy. The road back was pretty bland for the most part. The sides of the road were pretty much lined with houses and housing complexes for the entire way, with an occasional, extremely dumpy convenience store sitting on its own every now and then (which I took note of so that I could go in and maybe steal some food sometime from now), but otherwise everything was pretty normal for a residential neighbourhood. As the opalescent supports and glassy structure came closer and closer, I slowed down and took a break on what was supposed to be a soccer field of which no one used. Ness immediately flopped onto his back and stared up at the clouds, tears streaming from his eyes but seeming to disappear as the same wondrous curiosity seen in a seven-year old filled his eyes. I lost myself in my thoughts as Ness relaxed, finding myself all alone in my head for a moment until I was suddenly jumpscared by someone having approached me from behind.
“Are you Amber?” the person asked. I made an unintelligible noise in shock and turned around, seeing a pink-haired girl watching something or someone to my right. I looked in her direction and found Benjamin the Killager kneeling down next to Ness and smiling as he, too, looked at the clouds. Ugh. Why was the Killager here? What business did he have with me right now?
“Uhh, yeah, why?” I replied with an annoyed tone. The girl behind me approached me and glared at me. I took a deep breath and tried to think of things I could say to drive Benjamin away/ “You’re not good enough to be talking to me anyways.”
“Hey, that was rude! Don’t go disrespecting Benji, alright? Fail to listen and you have me and Al to deal with,” she threatened. Al? Who’s Al? Whatever. I don’t really care right now.
“Like I could care.” I turned my attention to Benjamin, who got up when he noticed I was paying attention to him again, and stared him down. “What do you want?” It wasn't long when I felt the blade of a axe bang against my head, thankfully on the flat side and not the sharp side, because that would’ve probably injured me a ton. I fell to my knees and held the affected area for a few moments before I got back up.
“What did I tell you? I’m going to make you pay for this in some way or another…” Sakura tightened her grip around the axe and gritted her teeth at me. Benjamin’s eyes widened, and he clutched the stuffed dog he was holding even harder, closer to his face. “I can have you prosecuted for minor charges of hate crimes against Benji, you know.”
“Don’t hurt, Sakura… not with axe…” I could tell some sort of terrible memory triggered in Benjamin’s brain. He looked very frightened, and almost started to run away. He tried to get a running start a few times, but just couldn’t make himself move.
“Pfft! Prosecuted? What a joke!” I laughed. I knew I was getting a little cocky and rude, but I didn’t think much of it. Ness sat up as he heard our trade of words.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with, do you?”
“Of course not! What could I care?”
“You’re a fool. My name’s Sakura Anaman! I’m one of Allen Catraz’s co-counsels, and I just go here once a week while I go to law school to get a degree!” exclaimed Sakura with a determined tone. So that must be who Al is.
“Benjamin Cloviet, attorney at law!” chimed Benjamin happily, the mention of Al likely making him happier. I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of him at home. “Like cookies and Pedro! Co-counsel Al Catraz!”
“Alright, you got me there. You’re with the law. But seriously, what the Nether do you want?” That comment had Sakura ready to hit me with the axe, raising the blade above my head, and the two of us glared at each other before Ness stepped in.
“D-Don’t hurt with axe!!” Benjamin begged. He stayed silent and breathed heavily, trying rapidly to calm himself down.
“Whoa, whoa! Cut it out, fuzzy pickles! This isn’t good to argue about!” he shouted, irritated. “I’ll get everything sorted out with Benjamin if you want!” Both Sakura and I stared at each other and then Ness, taken off guard.
“Uhh… I can do it,” I mumbled hesitantly. I felt myself being watched like a hawk as I approached Benjamin for once, trying to conduct myself in a respectful manner. “What is it you need?”
“Do have Game’s number?” he asked, his sentence so broken I had no idea what he was asking. He was still a bit scared after Sakura’s threats with the axe. I couldn’t blame him. I must’ve made some sort of face at Benjamin, though, because Sakura glared at me again before translating for me.
“He’s asking if you have Mr. Game’s PokéGear number,” she explained with a snobby tone. Great, I was hoping he wouldn’t do anything with Mr. Game, but there’s no reason in holding back…
“Yeah, I do. It’s…” I said, telling him the number. Benjamin smiled at me and bowed to thank me before skipping off happily, with Sakura following. However, she didn’t leave without saying one last thing.
“Look, I’m serious about this. Continue to pick on him, and I’ll make sure you don’t live to do it again. I’m sick of people belittling him because of his challenges.” She sneered and jogged off after Benjamin. "At least that speech synthesizer came in the mail today..." she muttered to herself. Ness brushed the grass off his shorts and sighed.
“Amber, you didn’t need to be so rude! Fuzzy pickles, I get you don’t like him, but… Jeez!” he scolded, sternly staring at me and hitting my shoulder.
“But I don’t like him!” I said back in a slight whisper. “He’s annoying and I want nothing to do with a kid who kills people! Besides, he’s weird as Nether!”
“There’s something called respect, Amber!” I felt my cheeks go red. Granted, I didn’t like Benjamin, but having my boyfriend yell at me about it made me feel a little embarrassed.
“Ugh, let’s just go back in!” I yelled, running off to the Academy and hoping to get lunch in time.
“We should get some lunch, anyways, fuzzy pickles!”
“Alright, whatever you say!” The two of us dashed directly into the cafeteria through the back doors, finding the food stands to thankfully still be open. The cafeteria was pretty similar to the rest of the Academy, but instead of wide hallways, there was a huge open area with tables lined up in rows of four and a giant, tower-like viewing area to see the city below us, which was always bustling with people. The area to get food was off to the left, usually accompanied by a giant lineup to get said food, and there was a clear space in the front for mini-dances and things like that. Ness and I quickly grabbed a chili dog each and ate them quickly, hearing the bell ring for the next class. However, as everyone left the cafeteria for the gym, Mrs. Fit approached us and stopped us in the hall.
“Hey, Amber. Hey, Ness. Can I talk to you two for a moment, if possible?” she asked, seeming unusually worried. Normally, she knew how to handle any situation and was calm about troubles and things gone wrong, so to see her as jittery as she was concerned me. This was the teacher who could handle herself perfectly calm with a class of rowdy, obnoxious eighth graders.
“Sure! What do you need?” I replied, taking a seat at the nearest cafeteria table, the blue granite surface sparkling in the light, reminding me of a quiet area I might’ve once visited as a child. I missed the carefree days.
“Well, I’ve received a note like the ones you’ve been getting, and I’m not too sure what to do about it…” she explained, handing me a sticky note:
If you want to live, I suggest you get out of this. I won’t let you assist my targets. Don’t even think of bringing this up to them, either—I’m always watching...
“Wow, they decided to threaten you too?!” I exclaimed. “That’s not good. It might be better if you really do stay out of this.”
“I can’t let myself do that. Not only would I get fired, but it would haunt me for the rest of my life, Amber,” Mrs. Fit refused.
“Fuzzy pickles, Summer, you really value our lives over yours?” cried Ness. “…I can see why.”
“I’m glad you understand. If I have to die to keep you three alive, I’ll do it. You have so many more years to live…”
“Wait, what if Mr. Stalk-It Note is hearing all this? We shouldn’t talk about this right now,” I stated.
“No, it’s fine. I can protect myself well, and I’m sure you two know that,” sighed Mrs. Fit. “I can protect you three, too, at least if everything happened to be coordinated.”
“But you’re putting yourself in danger!”
“I’m no damsel in distress, to make that known. I run a business and teach at the same time!”
“But Summer, what if you get hurt, fuzzy pickles?”
“I can heal myself.” Mrs. Fit checked her phone for the time, slipping it back into her pants pocket and getting up. “I’ve kept you too long. I should go finish my duties.”
“We should get to the gym anyways. We’ll find a way to help you, I swear!” I ran off towards the gym, Ness following while winded. The hallways were wide and packed with students hurrying to their lockers and to the gym, with people scattered all over the place. I knew I’d probably bump into people on my way in, but I didn’t really care, especially since yesterday I tripped a guy running through these same halls. Even if people did get mad, I wouldn’t care enough to listen to the argument. As I dashed through with Ness holding tightly onto my wrist, I thought about what Mrs. Fit had just shown us. Was the stalker really going to kill her too? Was he watching her as well? As lightly as I wanted to take this threat, I knew that whoever was behind these notes was really going to try doing harm to us.
“Ness, do you think Mr. Stalk-It Note will really try to kill Mrs. Fit?” I asked in a whisper, stopping in front of the doors to go into the gym.
“I’m afraid so, fuzzy pickles,” he responded, a worried tone in his voice. “If she’s killed, fuzzy pickles, we can’t be healed afterwards should there be a fight.”
“But there’s me! I can use my powers to restore everyone to before!” I yelled, realizing I shouldn’t have been so loud if I wanted to stay under the radar of this Stalk-It Note thing.
“I think the idea is to leave us all dead, or very close to dead, so even if we were still alive we’d be in critical condition. Fuzzy pickles, you could maybe heal one person, but assuming we end up close to death, fuzzy pickles, you would most likely die.” Ness sighed and snapped his fingers a few times, a small spark of PSI energy forming every single time. “Tough luck.”
“…Dammit. But this is assuming we have a fight at all. Maybe they’ll just appear and kill us in our sleep!”
“That’s… even worse.”
“Right, because that means we can’t resist.”
“Exactly, fuzzy pickles. Let’s go in now; most people are already seated.” A chill fell over me as I stepped into the wide gymnasium, seeing all the students sitting on the floor and talking to each other, split between the Interspectaculars and the Darks. Only a month ago had been the first assembly of the school year, and that had gone horribly wrong for me and Mr. Game. Mr. Game was beaten up in the class before the event, and when the assembly rolled around, the then-principal Dr. Eggman used him as an example of what happens if our two student halls mingle with each other. After that happened and people made fun of him for it, Mr. Watch was called to the stage and promptly decided to turn away his own son for being a Dark—something he couldn’t change. I remember that was the first time I met Emily since moving from Superflat, and I remember having punched a few of the teachers who were trying to make me sit down, but I wish I could forget the rest. I just hated the student split to no end, and if there were a way to rid of it for good, I’d do it, no matter what that took. There was just too much trouble from this system. I sat at the back of the Gym with Ness alone, watching the stage for when Mr. Watch would come to the microphone stand and start the assembly officially, and as the lights dimmed for a moment and the principal stepped up to the podium, a crackle from the speakers the mic was connected to filled the air before Mr. Game’s dad began his announcements… Waitaminute, wasn’t he supposedly sick? Why is he here now? Did he get over it that fast?
“Good afternoon, students, and welcome to the second assembly of the Academy in the year!” he greeted, a smile on his face. A loud good afternoon elicited from the crowd before he began to speak once again. “As I’m sure you all know, this year has already been filled with many ups and downs, and only in the first month. Our teaching system has received much feedback from the public due to this, and we’re currently looking over options for what we can do about our structure to meet the expectations we have set on us currently. Tomorrow after school at 3:30 pm, we will be having a public forum to discuss our possible courses of action.” My heart started racing at hearing this news. Change the student teaching system?! This was a huge step to reaching fairness for everyone! Forgetting to be quiet, I jumped up excitedly and shrieked joyously before I was rep-rip—Dammit! I shrieked joyously before I was scolded by Mario, only to hit him with an uppercut because I didn’t realize there were people nearby. I apologized and sat down, but that didn’t last long, because some EBI people busted into the gym literally two seconds after I took a seat.
“We’ve found them!” one of the members exclaimed triumphantly. He looked like the police chief and had a strange wooden stick in his hand, likely a baton of sorts. Ness completely lost his mind and ran up to the officers, dashing the fastest I’d ever seen him go in the month I’d known him for, and I could tell he’d suddenly burst into tears.
“YOU’VE FOUND TRACY?! WHERE IS SHE?! WHERE?! I HAVE TO SEE HER AGAIN!!” he shouted at the top of his lungs through his tears, searching frantically for his sister. The officers looked confused, much to my dismay, and what happened next ruined every hope Ness had.
“Tracy? Who’s Tracy?” asked a second officer, who was holding a donut in his hand and eating it, a lot like how I’d seen Benjamin eating cookies during class, except this officer was a lot slower than that kid. “We’ve only heard a Mr. Barry Game and Watch disappeared this morning in Home Economics class.” Ness stood for a moment in disbelief, his jaw having dropped and his voice shaking as he tried to resist crying again, but it was no use. He broke.
“I… I… NONO… SHE CAN’T STILL…” he gasped, choking on tears. “YOU CAN’T SAY YOU HAVEN’T…” This is horrible, I told myself. Ness is losing himself. These EBI dumbasses haven’t even heard of Tracy’s whereabouts?! I couldn’t help but tear up and become agitated seeing my boyfriend the way he was now, and I had to stop myself from running over to beat up the officers as Ness continued his crying.
“HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW ABOUT HER KIDNAPPING?!” he shrieked. “SHE COULD BE DEAD!!” Ness couldn’t handle the overwhelming sadness for any longer and bolted out of the room, his agonizing sobs able to be heard from inside the gym. Mr. Game walked into the room casually at that point, having just missed everything that’d happened and walking up to me with a clueless look on his face.
“Pardon me, but did I miss something? I heard Ness screaming about something and crying,” Mr. Game asked me. “Was something happening?”
“Yeah. The EBI came in here saying they found you, but stated it as they, which resulted in Ness thinking they found Tracy. Turns out those particular officers know nothing about the kidnapping,” I explained.
“Kidnapping?!” Right. Mr. Game doesn’t know about that. Whoops. Better explain that to him so he doesn’t get lost when Ness gets back, because he’ll probably still be shaken by that whole incident.
“Oh, Tracy was kidnapped by that stupid Egghead or something on her way to school this morning. Haven’t heard anything except for she entered a machine, which looked like a capsule. Something about PSI, too?”
“Oh no, that is upsetting to hear… I feel remorseful for Ness. We must find Tracy after we deal with the stalker.”
“This isn’t just something we’re able to leave until the last minute. He’s worried sick about her. The goal’s to find her as soon as possible, preferably before Mr. Stalk-It Note tries to kill us, but I don’t know how possible that is.” I noticed Mr. Watch was messing around with the mic’s connection, probably trying to amplify the sound pickup on it to drown out the noise the students were making over the EBI officers not having known about a kidnapping but teasing Ness about his tic disorder. That soon stopped, however, as Mr. Watch cleared his throat into the microphone.
“Ahem,” he coughed indignantly to direct attention to him. Most of the student body turned to face him, but some still continued their conversations. Nonetheless, the Academy head started to continue where he had left off anyways, referencing a sheet every few seconds. “Um, in addition to the public forum tomorrow, next week, there will be a—” I heard a loud stomp from something that couldn’t have conceivably been a foot, and then my worst nightmares—and Mr. Game’s—were realized once again. Mr. Watch froze for a moment, dropping the mic, and his eyes turned a deep purple only those under the influence of the Quartam Sceptre had. I knew Mr. Game was screaming on the inside about this. It wouldn’t be long until he ran up onto the stage. I gritted my teeth and hoped for the best, and seeing Ness come back in, I hugged him tightly to let him know he wasn’t alone.
“Err, we will be removing the Interspectaculars half of our program and extend school hours to end at 6:45 pm. We will also be having preliminary exams on Friday as a small… test.” I could see Mr. Watch clearly trying to fight the hypnotism on him, and even he knew that wasn’t what he wanted to say. That sounds so cliché, and I’m terrible at writing good stories for English!
“F-Father!” cried Mr. Game. He ran to the front of the gym and climbed up to the stage to hopefully persuade his dad to snap out of his trance. I had a bad feeling about this… “This is not you! Fight this with all the willpower you have!”
“And why should I listen to you?” replied Mr. Watch with a snarky tone. He seemed to cave in for a moment, his body following forced movements to try slapping Mr. Game away, which worked in connecting the hit, but he managed to recover enough as to have control over his body again.
“Because I am your son! I thought you were going to make an effort to… I thought you would try to make everything back up to me! This is what drove you to do all the horrific things you did after I was born!” Mr. Game tried not to show it, but he’d been deeply hurt by the slap, even if it were due to the Quartam Sceptre’s trance. I knew just how badly Mr. Game wanted his parents to listen to him for once, to really try to spend time with him… to love him. After they got out of their trance two weeks ago, the Onett court system decided I’d have to go to court with the Game and Watches to decide on who will get custody, and how much of it. I can’t say enough how much I hope they did enough bad things to let me keep full custody of Mr. Game… My life would be worthless without him.
“You may be my son, but that doesn’t change a thing about you! Once a Dark, forever a—” Mr. Watch managed to stop himself mid-sentence, and the purple even disappeared from his eyes, but it soon reappeared, allowing him to finish. “Once a Dark, forever a Dark! What about you is heroic to begin with?”
“I… I, um…” Mr. Game started to silently cry, but he burst out moments later. “I’ve made it this far in life without a family like most! I have survived this long with barely any hope in my life!” He put his hands on Mr. Watch’s shoulders and started to shake the principal, but an event even more frightening followed. Another stomp hit the ground, like that of the one before, and Mr. Game’s own eyes turned a dark, bold purple. My heart sank into the ground, and I felt myself starting to run towards the stage, whereas everyone else tried to run away and into the hallways.
“No!!” I shouted. Ness zapped me with another small PSI burst to stop me from heading up to where my precious Mr. Game and his dad were, probably in an attempt to protect me, but since when have I ever needed protecting? The answer is never. I guess everyone needs saving at some point, though, and I won’t be an exception, as much as I’d like to fight it.
“James, we need to kill them,” stated Mr. Game, pointing to Ness and I. “They’re going to kill us if we don’t.” Hold on… did he just call Mr. Watch by his first name? There’s no way that isn’t the trance talking. Mr. Game always calls his dad by Father! That’s not even the weirdest thing, though. He used contracted words! Mr. Game never even goes near them! He thinks they’re too modern and sound tacky. This is not my Mr. Game. This is definitely not Mr. Game. I could see him trying to fight the hypnotization as well, but it was just too strong. Where Mr. Watch would’ve snapped out for a few seconds, Mr. Game only fell deeper into the void.
“Sure thing, Barry. Which one of them first?”
“The orange-haired one. She’ll revive the other one if we don’t get rid of her first.” Mr. Game’s hands started forming green sparks of code—balls of neon green with darker green zeros and ones rotating around the energy core—and powered up a shot aimed at my immortality patch. I panicked as Ness tried to drag me out with him.
“Amber, what are you going to do, fuzzy pickles?!” exclaimed Ness. “If you sit here, you’re going to die!”
“I dunno, that’s the thing! I could run in circles!”
“No, that’s a bad idea! You’ll still have a chance at getting hit! Fuzzy pickles, Amber, get your crap together!”
“But I—” The next thing I remember was Ness pulling me to the gym floor in preparation, but I also heard a loud stomp once again, the trance leaving Mr. Game and Mr. Watch. The two shook their heads and watched the remaining students in the gym, who had moved to the bleachers with their lunch bags out in hopes of watching the fireworks. Mr. Game simply stared at his hands, realizing what would’ve happened if his trance had continued to consume him.
“What… I cannot have been…” he mumbled to himself, releasing the energy balls into the ceiling and creating a small hole, catching Ness and I off-guard. Mr. Watch jumped back at the sound of the explosion and breathed heavily for a few minutes.
“Oh my Arceus, what the Nether was that?” he exclaimed, taking a few steps back and wrapping his arm around Mr. Game protectively without realizing he was the one who made the explosion.
“I-I do not know! I… The e-energy s-s-spheres…” Mr. Game responded, terrified. “If I had not shot them at the ceiling, I fear what would have transpired!”
“Mr. Game!” I shouted in relief, running towards him and hugging him. “Ohhh, you don’t know what happened, do you?”
“N-No,” Mr. Game cried back, wiping his eyes. Ness simply watched us with a pained look on his face. I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. “All I remember w-was a blast… My mind went b-b-blank… I felt a strange force almost controlling me, and I could not fight back no matter how hard I tried. It was almost like I slipped into a coma.”
“That’s because you were being controlled,” I remarked boldly. As Mr. Game’s face fell into a look of shock and horror and his eyes widened, I felt the guilt rising higher inside me and hugged Mr. Game tightly. “Look, I’m not ever going to let this happen to you again. I’m never letting you fall into that horrible void again…” I started thinking back to last week, how I’d almost died colliding with the Academy roof, and how Mr. Game would have died if it hadn’t been for my copy powers. I had hit the lowest in my life when that happened—I apparently disappeared into a mess of code when I’d found Mr. Game’s then-dead body—and although I managed to recover from that and bring him back, I wasn’t going to let there be a next time… especially if next time doesn’t end so well. Ness approached us slowly, crying silently and trembling from emotional overwhelm, and he took off his cap to fidget with it as he tried to talk to us.
“Amber, Mr. Game… fuzzy pickles, we should be leaving now. You missed the announcements, and Mr. Watch announced school is ending early today because of this whole mess,” he mumbled just loud enough so I could hear. I noticed the blue rim of his hat fly back and forth before it eventually came back to his head and stayed there, his arms wrapped tightly around me as if to hug me once again. Ness had never been this clingy to me before, let alone to anyone (at least from what I saw—I don’t know what goes on when I’m not around), so I knew he was torn on the inside. His life seemed to be near-perfect before… all this. He had everything going right, and all of a sudden, he’d lost his father, his mother went into hysterics, his family’s money had been taken, and Tracy had been kidnapped. If we didn’t find her in time, it’s likely she would be killed, too. I returned Ness’s emotional embrace and ran my fingers through the ends of his shoulder-length black hair before coming back to Mr. Game’s side, wrapping my arm around his shoulders protectively.
“Alright! I was getting sick of being here today, anyways,” I replied, starting my run through the halls and leaving my two best friends in the dust. The hallways were packed with students just like they were yesterday, making getting out of the Academy a bit of a challenge, even though I didn’t mind tripping people if it meant I got to go home. However, I didn’t get far before I was stopped in the hallway, being grabbed by my hair and thrown to the floor by it due to my movement being suddenly restrained, despite the fact that my hair was extremely long.
“Ahh!” I screamed, raising a fist at the person and realizing it was Trooper. This time, he had stopped to talk to me instead of the other way around. “What was that for?”
“Look, Amber, I can’t find Kooper and I haven’t seen her all day,” Trooper replied angrily, as if he knew something bad had happened to her. This felt a bit too much like Ness’s situation to me.
“You know where she is, don’t you?!”
“Huh? N-No, I don’t!” I replied quickly, unsure of how to respond. I felt my face going a little red, as if I’d done something wrong and was caught doing it. I’ve had that feeling way more than I ever should.
“Don’t play stupid! You thought you could get away with it earlier, but I can tell you that you won’t now!”
“W-What do you mean? Are you trying to say I’ve kidnapped Kooper?!” I exclaimed in shock. I have no reason to kidnap anyone! Sure, no one may like Kooper, but I wouldn’t kidnap her. I’d probably just shut her mouth with duct tape.
“Yes! Knowing what you were like as a five-year old, you have every reason to do it, you monster of a so-called human!” I felt every word screech into my ears, my once-good feelings falling into the floor. There was no denying I did a lot of killing as a kid. I had to do it for income and a place to stay before I found that abandoned house when I was seven. I was twisted back then, but I’ve changed! I don’t kill people for the sake of it anymore! I only do it when necessary!
“Well, Kooper’s brought it onto herself! She’s the most annoying little pain in the ass I’ve ever had to deal with! She’s always screaming so loud into your face you become practically deaf, and she may as well have the entire cafeteria to herself! Think about this crap! This is why no one likes her!!” I watched triumphantly as Trooper backed off, his face going red and his arms starting to retract into his shell. However, it wasn’t long until he was back in my face, digging away at my insecurities.
“SO? I at last have the human capabilities to treat people with respect! If you had a brain, you’d be nicer to others! The things you’ve said should’ve had you expelled long ago!” I felt myself starting to grit my teeth together as I processed every word. I wasn’t gonna get anywhere without striking deeper. I paused to think about what I could shoot at before preparing my next steps.
“If you had a brain, you wouldn’t have dropped out of school in the Mushroom Kingdom! You may say I’m not kind, but even if that’s true, I’m at least making a conscious effort to be educated! You’re probably only in school now because you moved and April’s making you! Besides, I do actually know how to be nice, thank you, and Mr. Game knows me inside-out!” I saw Trooper’s eyes widen as I spat out insults, trembling in his spot, and I shouted one last sentence before taking a break. “Kooper isn’t even that important in the first place!” I started regretting what I’d said as soon as I heard the relatively high voice ring through my ears once again.
“Oh really, huh? Mr. Game knows your so-called nice side? Does your nice side even exist?” Trooper’s grin extended across the sides of his face, and I felt my forehead going hot with anger. I wasn’t having any of this.
“Yes, he DOES! And he KNOWS that I’m a nice person to some! He’s been in the best emotional state he ever has since coming into my care!!” I screeched. My horror intensified as Trooper smirked even more.
“You say that… but is it true? You’ve let him be bullied, nitpicked, belittled, tormented, discriminated against… not to mention you barely have any money. You can’t even maintain proper living standards. The kid’s depressed, and you say he’s been in the best condition he’s ever been in?! Lies. All lies. Social services should’ve been called the moment you gained custody!” I… I… My mind snapped like a twig.
“No one’s ever going to take Mr. Game from me!! Arceusdamn you and your sorry ass, Trooper!!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs, throwing multiple punches at him and knocking him to the ground. Trooper looked at me with a horrified look on his face, a face of regret and fear of my power… and a face that wasn’t gonna change anything about how he’d hurt my pride. No one dares to take shots at my responsibilities as a 12-year old legal guardian, and this is why. As I reached into my pocket for a useful weapon, I felt two sharp, pinching forces on my elbows starting to pull me away strongly and realized that Mr. Game and Ness had finally caught up to me.
“Amber, fuzzy pickles! Arceusdammit, you should know it’s not right to beat people up by now!” shouted Ness loudly.
“I don’t care! Fight me at three o’clock, on the dark, you heartless object! You’re too low to even deserve to be classified a living thing!” I demanded as I tried to fight being dragged off. However, my two friends together turned out to be stronger than me, even though I normally had more strength than the both of them. Maybe it was because I was super-angry and could only focus on wanting to kill Trooper. I soon realized that I was being dragged on the sidewalk towards home, the crisp wind hitting my face like daggers.
“Ness, shall we let go of Amber now?” asked Mr. Game. He looked at me for a moment with concern, studying me carefully. “I do believe she has calmed down enough to let her free.”
“Should be fine, fuzzy pickles,” replied Ness with a shrug, letting go of my arm. Mr. Game did the same soon after, and I sighed as I held both my arms in pain, rubbing them to try to ease the aching. Neither seemed to understand what had just gone on. They must’ve missed it.
“Arceusdamn Trooper…” I growled. “He’s gonna get it tomorrow!”
“What happened? Did you inevitably end up in a fight again?” asked Mr. Game. He sighed, as if he already knew the answer.
“Yep. He accused me of kidnapping Kooper for some reason, and the next thing you know, I’ve knocked him to the ground!” I exclaimed rather proudly, even though I shouldn’t have. Ness looked at me weirdly, with a romantic sparkle in his eyes.
“Amber, even after my warning after Science, you still fearlessly beat people up!” he squealed happily. He was so obviously driven by his love for me to say that, even I couldn’t help but cringe on the inside. Nonetheless, it didn’t change the fact that I loved Ness the same I did Mr. Game.
“It’s not brave,” I stated. “It was only because he’d started attacking me. Granted, I was attacking him, too, but he went further with it.” At that moment, I noticed the three of us pass by the convenience store from earlier today. I winked at Mr. Game and Ness, and while Ness nodded with a grin on his face, Mr. Game facepalmed and looked at me with a disappointed look.
“Please do not drag me into one of your thievery schemes again…” muttered Mr. Game as I hauled him into the dumpy convenience store. It was pretty crappy looking as I’d expected, almost like our own home, but even my house managed to look somehow clean. There was dust pretty much everywhere, the food on the surprising well lined up, partially destroyed birch shelves was mostly outdated, and there wasn't even much selection to begin with. The floors were made of rotting oak, as were the ceiling bars, and the actual ceiling itself was made of moldy drywall. Mr. Game pointed to the cooler shelves, where barely any drinks were available, and I swear I even saw boiled eggs and trout for sale. I think I saw some cereal, too, but I couldn’t tell.
“Hey, go grab some of that cereal over there,” I whispered. “Check the dates to make sure they won’t go bad by the time we get home. Try to get some of that trout, too… if it’s still good. Might help for that dinner tonight.”
“How much do you want me to get?” asked Mr. Game worriedly with a wavering voice, unsure of the plan as usual. There’s a Walmart around here, and Mr. Game and I will go in from time to time taking whatever we can get our hands on. Normally, that ends with me kicking someone’s butt and getting to keep everything because no one can catch up, minus anything Mr. Game drops. Sometimes, he’ll just leave his whole stash behind out of guilt.
“Hmm… Three cereal boxes and two trout. Should hold us over for tonight. There’s three of us eating, so two trout should be enough.” I replied a little louder. I went over to the cooler and grabbed an armful of water bottles, so that hopefully we could have some to reuse. I noticed Mr. Game’s eyes go wide as he picked up the trout from the shelf, looking at its price.
“Sixteen Pokos per trout?!” exclaimed Mr. Game in shock. “That is absurd! No Onett citizen should have to pay this much for a single trout!” I saw the cashier turn to him in disdain, giving him a snotty look that made me feel like he wanted us out of the store. Ness ran in and hid in the corner, seeming to grab a few chocolate bars.
“That’s why we have to get by the easy way when we can. What’s the best before date?” I walked over the cereal aisle and stared in domestic horror at the prices. “This cereal is seven freaking Pokos per box! Jeez, that’s insane!”
“Umm, it is… September 23rd when the trout expires? That is in fact a fresh trout!” replied Mr. Game, smiling at the thought of eating fish for dinner tonight. I think the most expensive dinner we’ve ever had in a while was KFC. That’s honestly pretty pathetic, and it makes me feel even worse about our financial standing. Ugh…
“Fuzzy pickles, you know what to do.” Ness got out of the chocolate aisle with a fistful of chocolate bars and winked at me. “Now’s the time.” I knew instantly that now was the time to book it for the door and get outta here, so I got myself ready to run and started running. However, the cashier caught on, and he ran in front of the door, blocking the exit.
“No one’s getting out of here with stolen merchandise!” yelled the cashier sternly. “Put them back or pay for them!”
“B-But we do not have any food otherwise!” cried Mr. Game, referring to the two of us but playing up the situation to hopefully justify the stealing. It was his normal tactic before I would eventually shove him out the door.
“I don't care if you’re broke or starving; no one’s getting out of here with unpaid product!” Thinking quickly, I looked for something I could use to distract the cashier, and realized I could start eating one of Ness’s chocolate bars. I snatched a Twix bar out of his hand and opened the wrapper, starting to devour the chocolate inside.
“A-Amber, what are you—”
“Just get outta here!” I smirked as the cashier moved from the door and started charging at me with his black beard flowing in the wind, watching as Mr. Game and Ness hurried out the door and to the street.
“You will pay for that chocolate bar right now!” screamed the cashier.
“Or you’ll pay for this,” I laughed, grabbing a trout from the cooler, opening its package, and promptly using it to slap the man multiple times. His blue polo shirt was water-stained and smelt like rotting fish. I must’ve grabbed one of the expired fish. Dammit. At least it works.
“You filthy teenager! All of them these days, coming in and thinking they can get away with this!” The cashier had obviously become frustrated at this point.
“Trust me, I wouldn’t be doing this if I were better off in life,” I remarked one last time, slapping the cashier one last time and running out the door while biting my tongue to resist the urge to admit I lied to his face. Jogging to catch up with Mr. Game and Ness, the thought of the stalker suddenly came to my mind once again, and I decided that since it was the day before the stalker attacked, we had to try to figure out who it was sending us the notes. The cement road’s yellow paint was cracked, as if it were old, and whatever trees were there flowed beautifully in the wind. “So who do you think is Mr. Stalk-It Note?” It didn’t even take a second before Ness answered.
“It’s got to be Tracy’s kidnapper, fuzzy pickles!” he exclaimed. “There’s no other explanation for why anyone else would do it! Besides, fuzzy pickles, this stalker seems to really like picking at our weakest emotional points! Fuzzy pickles!”
“Ness, calm down. We will find Tracy. There is no doubting that it could have been the stalker, as they have likely captured Emily by now, but…” Mr. Game paused for a moment, as if guilt was swirling inside him and was only now starting to show. Was Mr. Game keeping something from me?
“But what? Are you hiding something from me?!” I asked, pushing for an answer. Mr. Game stuttered for a moment before answering
“N-No! I m-m-meant to say t-that I believe it is unlikely that the stalker would kidnap someone.”
“…But why would they have threatened ransom on Emily, then?”
“I do not know. Others seem to enjoy my endless struggles.” Mr. Game sighed and hung his head low, seeming to get closer to letting his emotions out and crying. Ness only seemed to get more determined to free Tracy, but I found myself lost in a sea of questions. What was the point of even stalking us? Why let your presence be known by posting sticky notes everywhere? Why would you want to stalk us? It’s not like we’re… wait, we kinda destroyed Eggman’s plans last week. That’s kinda important. Even still!
“So whoever the kidnapper is, they could be an option, fuzzy pickles! Any other suggestions?” Ness nervously giggled and took his cap off, messing up his hair with his hand and spinning the hat on his finger for a few moments.
“I…” Mr. Game fell silent once again. This time, I knew better to question it, but the urge just swelled bigger once I heard his next sentence, my heart dropping. “It could… after the assembly… maybe it is me.”
“Why would you think that?!” me and Ness both exclaimed at the same time, a fuzzy pickles faintly sounding during my loud scream. What reason did Mr. Game have to think he was the stalker?!
“Well, I was hypnotized, was I not?” Mr. Game reasoned. “I was not aware I was while I was under that influence, so could it not make sense that I am being hypnotized to write you two and myself threatening notes? Why would I want to take Emily hostage? That makes sense. Why would I be... What is one note you have received?”
“Fuzzy pickles, um…”
“The stalker was happy I’d kinda shut down Ness yesterday,” I suggested, my feelings grim.
“And that is another thing I would have reason to feel the same way over. I shall make it well-known that you two should not be dating in my eyes.”
“B-But how could you have written that first note? Fuzzy pickles, you were falling from the sky when it would have been written!” Ness had a worried look on his face, as if he were trying to find a way to break Mr. Game’s theory. I deeply hoped he could.
“I believe that was written beforehand. Ness, yours did say we had three days, am I correct?”
“It did,” I blurted out before Ness could even think of an answer.
“That limit could have anything. I could have initiated those three days any time by posting the note later.”
“It’s not you!” I exclaimed suddenly. I wasn’t ready to believe that my precious Mr. Game was the stalker. Whoever was threatening our lives, whoever was sending the notes… It couldn’t have been him…
“…And if it is not, I find it likely to be...”
“Who?!”
“I-I cannot explain. I believe I was hallucinating an encounter with the stalker today.” Mr. Game had quickly shaken off the thought of the stalker being anyone else, absolutely certain he was Mr. Stalk-It Note. I felt tears welling in my eyes, but I couldn’t let myself show weakness at a time like this. I had to be the strong one, the one to carry my friends and I through the tough times.
“There’s no way it’s you!” I tried to protest. “There’s just––I mean––you can’t be––”
“Calm down, Amber. We still do not know who it is. Tomorrow, at least you two will know the truth… but whether I will is still a mystery.” Mr. Game kept walking silently until he bumped into the door to Ness’s house, falling down in surprise and suddenly snapping out of his half-asleep manner.
“H-Huh?! Oh…” The three of us laughed in the moment as Ness unlocked the door to his house, shoving us all inside playfully and taking the food from Mr. Game’s arms, throwing it heavily and half-efforted onto the kitchen counter. The kitchen was a lot more humble-looking than Ness’s living room. It was small and had tiling reminiscent to that of a public washroom, but much, much cleaner and professional-looking than a public washroom. The kitchen counters had beautiful granite finishes to them, and were outfitted with clean white cabinets and drawers. A chandelier hung over where the maple dining table stood, its bare surface calling for someone to use it, the ring in my ears painfully similar to Ness’s cries for his family to return. Ness heaved his backpack off his shoulder and stared at the table blankly for a few moments before pounding his fists by one of the cereal boxes and calling for our opinions.
“So what are we doing with this trout, fuzzy pickles? Perhaps we cook it coated with those Frosted Flakes you stole?” Ness started unwrapping the trout and scavenged for latex gloves in the drawers, slipping them onto his hands and pulling a knife from a different drawer. He proceeded to open the cardboard box the cereal laid in.
“That sounds surprisingly indulging,” stated Mr. Game. He stared hungrily at the Frosted Flakes as if he was ready to start devouring them, before I pulled out a knife from the same drawer as Ness had and grabbed the unwrapped trout to start preparing it. However, it wasn’t long until I heard the rustling of flimsy plastic and the crunching of the sugary cereal.
“Fuzzy pickles, Mr. Game! We’re using those with dinner!” exclaimed Ness, snatching the box away and peering inside to check how much was left. “...There’s only half of them left…”
“Holy crap, you’re quick,” I remarked. Mr. Game’s eyes went wide and he covered his mouth.
“She is safe!” The Quartasian started breathing heavily, leaving me suspicious. A horrible feeling starter crawling up my spine…
“Who is safe? Is this about Emily?” I tried to raise my eyebrows but couldn’t quite do it right, causing Ness to start laughing like I had at him. His smile soon disappeared, however.
“I-I… I bailed her!” Mr. Game grabbed more Frosted Flakes and devoured them, leaving about quarter of what was originally eaten left. He must’ve skipped lunch again, probably because… Hooooooold on. No. I’m going to lose my Arceusdamn mind!! “I could not let the stalker take her, no matter what! Even if the stalker is me! I could not let her fall into evil hands! Amber Tzaziki, you must understand my motive! You must understand why I had to use your debit card! I had to steal it and use its savings for her! I… I…”
“YOU WHAAAAAAAAT?!” I stopped chopping the trout and whipped around to see Mr. Game’s worried expression. He knew he was gonna get it big time. Ness froze in place, almost like he had three weeks ago, frightened he was gonna he hurt. With me, he had every reason to think that. “You went through my bank! You went and threw all our money into the trash! You’ve gone and ruined our current financial state!! You’ve betrayed both of us!!” I swung my arms wildly at Mr. Game with each sentence, hoping I would somehow get him to earn back what he’d spent away. How could he have betrayed us so easily and so secretively?! If he hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have suspected him one bit!
“You do not understand what it is like to––AAAAAAAAH!!” Mr. Game shrieked at the top of his lungs, dropping to the floor and clutching his arm protectively, as if it’d been injured badly.
“AMBER TZAZIKI, STOP YOURSELF BEFORE YOU KILL HIM!!” Ness burst into tears and ran off, endlessly dropping uses of fuzzy pickles while trying to find something. I shook my head and looked down at the ground, my head going light as I stared at the knife and the pale, silver-red stream of blood trailing off its tip and dripping onto the floor. I’d made a huge mistake. And I wasn’t sure if it could be fixed.
“C’mon, Ness. Let’s get outta here before I strangle the nearest teller,” I demanded, grabbing Ness by the wrist and dragging him out of the bank and into the heart of Onett. The surrounding area was filled with shops and buildings side-by-side, people crowded on the sidewalks coming in and out of buildings almost constantly. The sun was shining brightly but covered by clouds, and the lighting made anything colourful stand out beautifully in the sun. North past the metropolis I was currently in with Ness was a more suburban area, mostly of roads which led the way to the police station and back to the Academy, which was our next destination. After all, even though I’d probably be likely to skip a bunch of classes for things like paying off debts and doing bills, I don’t wanna get in trouble for skipping! It won’t help my grades, which are low enough as they are. I don’t need to get myself kicked out.
“Amber, slow down! Fuzzy pickles, we might be able to find out who used your card by asking!” pleaded Ness, trying to stop me by planting his own feet into the ground but failing, getting himself dragged a few feet.
“And asking is gonna get us our answer, huh?” I asked. “You know how things work in Onett. It won’t get us anywhere.” I continued stomping my way back until Ness tried to stop me again, this time using his words to convince me.
“But you don’t know until you try! Just give it a shot, fuzzy pickles, Amber…” Ness took off his cap and held it in the hand that I didn’t have an iron grip on. “Besides… we might find out something about where Tracy went.” Shoot, I can’t fight that. Maybe we’ll be able to find some info on both events if we go back to the bank. I still highly doubt we will, though.
“Fine…” I sighed, stomping back into the bank and coming back up to the teller I’d screamed at earlier.
“W-What do you n-n-need?” he asked, seeming to still be shaken after my scene earlier.
“Fuzzy pickles, do you know who used Amber’s card?” requested Ness. The teller looked through his computer, probably at card usage history, and turned his attention back to me and Ness.
“I’m sorry, I can’t tell you that. It’s one of our policies to keep customer information confidential,” the teller replied, brushing some of his hair out of his face and sighing, as if he knew he was gonna get chewed out again. “I don’t remember, anyways.”
“OF COURSE YOU—” I almost blew up again, but Ness cupped his hand over my mouth and stopped me.
“Do you happen to know anything about the disappearance of an 11-year old girl, fuzzy pickles? There was a kidnapping, and the victim is my sister,” Ness interrupted. He put his cap back on and brushed dust off his shirt as he waited for a response, breathing out heavily and wiping his eyes. I felt bad seeing Ness like this. If Mr. Game went missing, I’d spend day and night looking for him until I got him back or died trying. I knew Mrs. Michelin would be worried too. If she even knew Tracy was missing at this point, it wouldn’t help her current mental state at all.
“Uhh, I think I saw her getting shoved into a weird machine… Green dress, right? Black hair?” Ness’s face lit up and he leaned up on the counter.
“Yes! Yes! That’s her, fuzzy pickles!” he exclaimed. “Did you see who took her?”
“N-No, unfortunately,” said the teller, resuming to looking at the computer monitor. I heard screams coming from just outside the building which sounded like two people fighting over something pointless, but I ignored them, because finding Tracy was what was most important right now. Beating up the stalker for taking my debit card could wait until later, after school goes out for the day, if I can even track down the damn guy. (Or girl. Mr. Game insists they could be either, but I’m still betting on it being a guy.)
“B-But you saw the machine?” cried out Ness. His smile was still there, but it was shaky, and less confident.
“Yeah, I saw the machine. It was like a capsule. That’s all I’ve got, unfortunately. Everything I know, I saw on my way to work.”
“T-Thanks anyways. I really appreciate your cooperation,” finished Ness, this time grabbing me by the wrist and dragging me out of the bank towards the path back to the Academy, running all the way until we hit Polestar Crescent––normally about a ten minute walk, but only about two minutes by running this time––and letting go.
“And now you’re dragging me out!” I yelled, trying to take a dig at Ness’s sudden hypocrisy. “What’s up with that?”
“We have to find that machine,” muttered Ness under his breath with gritted teeth. “We can’t stop until we find Tracy. I can’t sleep or eat knowing she’s still missing. She could be dead for all we know!”
“I don’t think she’s dead. Even if there were a good enough motive for killing her, I think she’d be able to fend for herself,” I tried to comfort, not sure if it would work. Secretly, I knew there was a very good reason for Tracy to be killed. With his dad gone and his mom in hysterics, losing his sister would probably bring Ness past his breaking point, which would eliminate a threat to Eggman. Ness would be too concerned about grieving his family. He’d… I don’t want to say this, but… I think he’d want to join them. His family means too much to him. I don’t even know if I’d be able to stop him.
“And how in Arceus’s name would she do that?! She can’t run half a kilometer if one of the boys she chases asked her to, let alone defend herself from anyone out to kill her, fuzzy pickles!”
“Look, I just know it. She isn’t going to die. I… I just know. Let’s get back to the Academy for lunch,” I told Ness, lifting him up with my strength and rushing back to the Academy. The road back was pretty bland for the most part. The sides of the road were pretty much lined with houses and housing complexes for the entire way, with an occasional, extremely dumpy convenience store sitting on its own every now and then (which I took note of so that I could go in and maybe steal some food sometime from now), but otherwise everything was pretty normal for a residential neighbourhood. As the opalescent supports and glassy structure came closer and closer, I slowed down and took a break on what was supposed to be a soccer field of which no one used. Ness immediately flopped onto his back and stared up at the clouds, tears streaming from his eyes but seeming to disappear as the same wondrous curiosity seen in a seven-year old filled his eyes. I lost myself in my thoughts as Ness relaxed, finding myself all alone in my head for a moment until I was suddenly jumpscared by someone having approached me from behind.
“Are you Amber?” the person asked. I made an unintelligible noise in shock and turned around, seeing a pink-haired girl watching something or someone to my right. I looked in her direction and found Benjamin the Killager kneeling down next to Ness and smiling as he, too, looked at the clouds. Ugh. Why was the Killager here? What business did he have with me right now?
“Uhh, yeah, why?” I replied with an annoyed tone. The girl behind me approached me and glared at me. I took a deep breath and tried to think of things I could say to drive Benjamin away/ “You’re not good enough to be talking to me anyways.”
“Hey, that was rude! Don’t go disrespecting Benji, alright? Fail to listen and you have me and Al to deal with,” she threatened. Al? Who’s Al? Whatever. I don’t really care right now.
“Like I could care.” I turned my attention to Benjamin, who got up when he noticed I was paying attention to him again, and stared him down. “What do you want?” It wasn't long when I felt the blade of a axe bang against my head, thankfully on the flat side and not the sharp side, because that would’ve probably injured me a ton. I fell to my knees and held the affected area for a few moments before I got back up.
“What did I tell you? I’m going to make you pay for this in some way or another…” Sakura tightened her grip around the axe and gritted her teeth at me. Benjamin’s eyes widened, and he clutched the stuffed dog he was holding even harder, closer to his face. “I can have you prosecuted for minor charges of hate crimes against Benji, you know.”
“Don’t hurt, Sakura… not with axe…” I could tell some sort of terrible memory triggered in Benjamin’s brain. He looked very frightened, and almost started to run away. He tried to get a running start a few times, but just couldn’t make himself move.
“Pfft! Prosecuted? What a joke!” I laughed. I knew I was getting a little cocky and rude, but I didn’t think much of it. Ness sat up as he heard our trade of words.
“You don’t know who you’re messing with, do you?”
“Of course not! What could I care?”
“You’re a fool. My name’s Sakura Anaman! I’m one of Allen Catraz’s co-counsels, and I just go here once a week while I go to law school to get a degree!” exclaimed Sakura with a determined tone. So that must be who Al is.
“Benjamin Cloviet, attorney at law!” chimed Benjamin happily, the mention of Al likely making him happier. I couldn’t help but wonder what he thought of him at home. “Like cookies and Pedro! Co-counsel Al Catraz!”
“Alright, you got me there. You’re with the law. But seriously, what the Nether do you want?” That comment had Sakura ready to hit me with the axe, raising the blade above my head, and the two of us glared at each other before Ness stepped in.
“D-Don’t hurt with axe!!” Benjamin begged. He stayed silent and breathed heavily, trying rapidly to calm himself down.
“Whoa, whoa! Cut it out, fuzzy pickles! This isn’t good to argue about!” he shouted, irritated. “I’ll get everything sorted out with Benjamin if you want!” Both Sakura and I stared at each other and then Ness, taken off guard.
“Uhh… I can do it,” I mumbled hesitantly. I felt myself being watched like a hawk as I approached Benjamin for once, trying to conduct myself in a respectful manner. “What is it you need?”
“Do have Game’s number?” he asked, his sentence so broken I had no idea what he was asking. He was still a bit scared after Sakura’s threats with the axe. I couldn’t blame him. I must’ve made some sort of face at Benjamin, though, because Sakura glared at me again before translating for me.
“He’s asking if you have Mr. Game’s PokéGear number,” she explained with a snobby tone. Great, I was hoping he wouldn’t do anything with Mr. Game, but there’s no reason in holding back…
“Yeah, I do. It’s…” I said, telling him the number. Benjamin smiled at me and bowed to thank me before skipping off happily, with Sakura following. However, she didn’t leave without saying one last thing.
“Look, I’m serious about this. Continue to pick on him, and I’ll make sure you don’t live to do it again. I’m sick of people belittling him because of his challenges.” She sneered and jogged off after Benjamin. "At least that speech synthesizer came in the mail today..." she muttered to herself. Ness brushed the grass off his shorts and sighed.
“Amber, you didn’t need to be so rude! Fuzzy pickles, I get you don’t like him, but… Jeez!” he scolded, sternly staring at me and hitting my shoulder.
“But I don’t like him!” I said back in a slight whisper. “He’s annoying and I want nothing to do with a kid who kills people! Besides, he’s weird as Nether!”
“There’s something called respect, Amber!” I felt my cheeks go red. Granted, I didn’t like Benjamin, but having my boyfriend yell at me about it made me feel a little embarrassed.
“Ugh, let’s just go back in!” I yelled, running off to the Academy and hoping to get lunch in time.
“We should get some lunch, anyways, fuzzy pickles!”
“Alright, whatever you say!” The two of us dashed directly into the cafeteria through the back doors, finding the food stands to thankfully still be open. The cafeteria was pretty similar to the rest of the Academy, but instead of wide hallways, there was a huge open area with tables lined up in rows of four and a giant, tower-like viewing area to see the city below us, which was always bustling with people. The area to get food was off to the left, usually accompanied by a giant lineup to get said food, and there was a clear space in the front for mini-dances and things like that. Ness and I quickly grabbed a chili dog each and ate them quickly, hearing the bell ring for the next class. However, as everyone left the cafeteria for the gym, Mrs. Fit approached us and stopped us in the hall.
“Hey, Amber. Hey, Ness. Can I talk to you two for a moment, if possible?” she asked, seeming unusually worried. Normally, she knew how to handle any situation and was calm about troubles and things gone wrong, so to see her as jittery as she was concerned me. This was the teacher who could handle herself perfectly calm with a class of rowdy, obnoxious eighth graders.
“Sure! What do you need?” I replied, taking a seat at the nearest cafeteria table, the blue granite surface sparkling in the light, reminding me of a quiet area I might’ve once visited as a child. I missed the carefree days.
“Well, I’ve received a note like the ones you’ve been getting, and I’m not too sure what to do about it…” she explained, handing me a sticky note:
If you want to live, I suggest you get out of this. I won’t let you assist my targets. Don’t even think of bringing this up to them, either—I’m always watching...
“Wow, they decided to threaten you too?!” I exclaimed. “That’s not good. It might be better if you really do stay out of this.”
“I can’t let myself do that. Not only would I get fired, but it would haunt me for the rest of my life, Amber,” Mrs. Fit refused.
“Fuzzy pickles, Summer, you really value our lives over yours?” cried Ness. “…I can see why.”
“I’m glad you understand. If I have to die to keep you three alive, I’ll do it. You have so many more years to live…”
“Wait, what if Mr. Stalk-It Note is hearing all this? We shouldn’t talk about this right now,” I stated.
“No, it’s fine. I can protect myself well, and I’m sure you two know that,” sighed Mrs. Fit. “I can protect you three, too, at least if everything happened to be coordinated.”
“But you’re putting yourself in danger!”
“I’m no damsel in distress, to make that known. I run a business and teach at the same time!”
“But Summer, what if you get hurt, fuzzy pickles?”
“I can heal myself.” Mrs. Fit checked her phone for the time, slipping it back into her pants pocket and getting up. “I’ve kept you too long. I should go finish my duties.”
“We should get to the gym anyways. We’ll find a way to help you, I swear!” I ran off towards the gym, Ness following while winded. The hallways were wide and packed with students hurrying to their lockers and to the gym, with people scattered all over the place. I knew I’d probably bump into people on my way in, but I didn’t really care, especially since yesterday I tripped a guy running through these same halls. Even if people did get mad, I wouldn’t care enough to listen to the argument. As I dashed through with Ness holding tightly onto my wrist, I thought about what Mrs. Fit had just shown us. Was the stalker really going to kill her too? Was he watching her as well? As lightly as I wanted to take this threat, I knew that whoever was behind these notes was really going to try doing harm to us.
“Ness, do you think Mr. Stalk-It Note will really try to kill Mrs. Fit?” I asked in a whisper, stopping in front of the doors to go into the gym.
“I’m afraid so, fuzzy pickles,” he responded, a worried tone in his voice. “If she’s killed, fuzzy pickles, we can’t be healed afterwards should there be a fight.”
“But there’s me! I can use my powers to restore everyone to before!” I yelled, realizing I shouldn’t have been so loud if I wanted to stay under the radar of this Stalk-It Note thing.
“I think the idea is to leave us all dead, or very close to dead, so even if we were still alive we’d be in critical condition. Fuzzy pickles, you could maybe heal one person, but assuming we end up close to death, fuzzy pickles, you would most likely die.” Ness sighed and snapped his fingers a few times, a small spark of PSI energy forming every single time. “Tough luck.”
“…Dammit. But this is assuming we have a fight at all. Maybe they’ll just appear and kill us in our sleep!”
“That’s… even worse.”
“Right, because that means we can’t resist.”
“Exactly, fuzzy pickles. Let’s go in now; most people are already seated.” A chill fell over me as I stepped into the wide gymnasium, seeing all the students sitting on the floor and talking to each other, split between the Interspectaculars and the Darks. Only a month ago had been the first assembly of the school year, and that had gone horribly wrong for me and Mr. Game. Mr. Game was beaten up in the class before the event, and when the assembly rolled around, the then-principal Dr. Eggman used him as an example of what happens if our two student halls mingle with each other. After that happened and people made fun of him for it, Mr. Watch was called to the stage and promptly decided to turn away his own son for being a Dark—something he couldn’t change. I remember that was the first time I met Emily since moving from Superflat, and I remember having punched a few of the teachers who were trying to make me sit down, but I wish I could forget the rest. I just hated the student split to no end, and if there were a way to rid of it for good, I’d do it, no matter what that took. There was just too much trouble from this system. I sat at the back of the Gym with Ness alone, watching the stage for when Mr. Watch would come to the microphone stand and start the assembly officially, and as the lights dimmed for a moment and the principal stepped up to the podium, a crackle from the speakers the mic was connected to filled the air before Mr. Game’s dad began his announcements… Waitaminute, wasn’t he supposedly sick? Why is he here now? Did he get over it that fast?
“Good afternoon, students, and welcome to the second assembly of the Academy in the year!” he greeted, a smile on his face. A loud good afternoon elicited from the crowd before he began to speak once again. “As I’m sure you all know, this year has already been filled with many ups and downs, and only in the first month. Our teaching system has received much feedback from the public due to this, and we’re currently looking over options for what we can do about our structure to meet the expectations we have set on us currently. Tomorrow after school at 3:30 pm, we will be having a public forum to discuss our possible courses of action.” My heart started racing at hearing this news. Change the student teaching system?! This was a huge step to reaching fairness for everyone! Forgetting to be quiet, I jumped up excitedly and shrieked joyously before I was rep-rip—Dammit! I shrieked joyously before I was scolded by Mario, only to hit him with an uppercut because I didn’t realize there were people nearby. I apologized and sat down, but that didn’t last long, because some EBI people busted into the gym literally two seconds after I took a seat.
“We’ve found them!” one of the members exclaimed triumphantly. He looked like the police chief and had a strange wooden stick in his hand, likely a baton of sorts. Ness completely lost his mind and ran up to the officers, dashing the fastest I’d ever seen him go in the month I’d known him for, and I could tell he’d suddenly burst into tears.
“YOU’VE FOUND TRACY?! WHERE IS SHE?! WHERE?! I HAVE TO SEE HER AGAIN!!” he shouted at the top of his lungs through his tears, searching frantically for his sister. The officers looked confused, much to my dismay, and what happened next ruined every hope Ness had.
“Tracy? Who’s Tracy?” asked a second officer, who was holding a donut in his hand and eating it, a lot like how I’d seen Benjamin eating cookies during class, except this officer was a lot slower than that kid. “We’ve only heard a Mr. Barry Game and Watch disappeared this morning in Home Economics class.” Ness stood for a moment in disbelief, his jaw having dropped and his voice shaking as he tried to resist crying again, but it was no use. He broke.
“I… I… NONO… SHE CAN’T STILL…” he gasped, choking on tears. “YOU CAN’T SAY YOU HAVEN’T…” This is horrible, I told myself. Ness is losing himself. These EBI dumbasses haven’t even heard of Tracy’s whereabouts?! I couldn’t help but tear up and become agitated seeing my boyfriend the way he was now, and I had to stop myself from running over to beat up the officers as Ness continued his crying.
“HOW COULD YOU NOT KNOW ABOUT HER KIDNAPPING?!” he shrieked. “SHE COULD BE DEAD!!” Ness couldn’t handle the overwhelming sadness for any longer and bolted out of the room, his agonizing sobs able to be heard from inside the gym. Mr. Game walked into the room casually at that point, having just missed everything that’d happened and walking up to me with a clueless look on his face.
“Pardon me, but did I miss something? I heard Ness screaming about something and crying,” Mr. Game asked me. “Was something happening?”
“Yeah. The EBI came in here saying they found you, but stated it as they, which resulted in Ness thinking they found Tracy. Turns out those particular officers know nothing about the kidnapping,” I explained.
“Kidnapping?!” Right. Mr. Game doesn’t know about that. Whoops. Better explain that to him so he doesn’t get lost when Ness gets back, because he’ll probably still be shaken by that whole incident.
“Oh, Tracy was kidnapped by that stupid Egghead or something on her way to school this morning. Haven’t heard anything except for she entered a machine, which looked like a capsule. Something about PSI, too?”
“Oh no, that is upsetting to hear… I feel remorseful for Ness. We must find Tracy after we deal with the stalker.”
“This isn’t just something we’re able to leave until the last minute. He’s worried sick about her. The goal’s to find her as soon as possible, preferably before Mr. Stalk-It Note tries to kill us, but I don’t know how possible that is.” I noticed Mr. Watch was messing around with the mic’s connection, probably trying to amplify the sound pickup on it to drown out the noise the students were making over the EBI officers not having known about a kidnapping but teasing Ness about his tic disorder. That soon stopped, however, as Mr. Watch cleared his throat into the microphone.
“Ahem,” he coughed indignantly to direct attention to him. Most of the student body turned to face him, but some still continued their conversations. Nonetheless, the Academy head started to continue where he had left off anyways, referencing a sheet every few seconds. “Um, in addition to the public forum tomorrow, next week, there will be a—” I heard a loud stomp from something that couldn’t have conceivably been a foot, and then my worst nightmares—and Mr. Game’s—were realized once again. Mr. Watch froze for a moment, dropping the mic, and his eyes turned a deep purple only those under the influence of the Quartam Sceptre had. I knew Mr. Game was screaming on the inside about this. It wouldn’t be long until he ran up onto the stage. I gritted my teeth and hoped for the best, and seeing Ness come back in, I hugged him tightly to let him know he wasn’t alone.
“Err, we will be removing the Interspectaculars half of our program and extend school hours to end at 6:45 pm. We will also be having preliminary exams on Friday as a small… test.” I could see Mr. Watch clearly trying to fight the hypnotism on him, and even he knew that wasn’t what he wanted to say. That sounds so cliché, and I’m terrible at writing good stories for English!
“F-Father!” cried Mr. Game. He ran to the front of the gym and climbed up to the stage to hopefully persuade his dad to snap out of his trance. I had a bad feeling about this… “This is not you! Fight this with all the willpower you have!”
“And why should I listen to you?” replied Mr. Watch with a snarky tone. He seemed to cave in for a moment, his body following forced movements to try slapping Mr. Game away, which worked in connecting the hit, but he managed to recover enough as to have control over his body again.
“Because I am your son! I thought you were going to make an effort to… I thought you would try to make everything back up to me! This is what drove you to do all the horrific things you did after I was born!” Mr. Game tried not to show it, but he’d been deeply hurt by the slap, even if it were due to the Quartam Sceptre’s trance. I knew just how badly Mr. Game wanted his parents to listen to him for once, to really try to spend time with him… to love him. After they got out of their trance two weeks ago, the Onett court system decided I’d have to go to court with the Game and Watches to decide on who will get custody, and how much of it. I can’t say enough how much I hope they did enough bad things to let me keep full custody of Mr. Game… My life would be worthless without him.
“You may be my son, but that doesn’t change a thing about you! Once a Dark, forever a—” Mr. Watch managed to stop himself mid-sentence, and the purple even disappeared from his eyes, but it soon reappeared, allowing him to finish. “Once a Dark, forever a Dark! What about you is heroic to begin with?”
“I… I, um…” Mr. Game started to silently cry, but he burst out moments later. “I’ve made it this far in life without a family like most! I have survived this long with barely any hope in my life!” He put his hands on Mr. Watch’s shoulders and started to shake the principal, but an event even more frightening followed. Another stomp hit the ground, like that of the one before, and Mr. Game’s own eyes turned a dark, bold purple. My heart sank into the ground, and I felt myself starting to run towards the stage, whereas everyone else tried to run away and into the hallways.
“No!!” I shouted. Ness zapped me with another small PSI burst to stop me from heading up to where my precious Mr. Game and his dad were, probably in an attempt to protect me, but since when have I ever needed protecting? The answer is never. I guess everyone needs saving at some point, though, and I won’t be an exception, as much as I’d like to fight it.
“James, we need to kill them,” stated Mr. Game, pointing to Ness and I. “They’re going to kill us if we don’t.” Hold on… did he just call Mr. Watch by his first name? There’s no way that isn’t the trance talking. Mr. Game always calls his dad by Father! That’s not even the weirdest thing, though. He used contracted words! Mr. Game never even goes near them! He thinks they’re too modern and sound tacky. This is not my Mr. Game. This is definitely not Mr. Game. I could see him trying to fight the hypnotization as well, but it was just too strong. Where Mr. Watch would’ve snapped out for a few seconds, Mr. Game only fell deeper into the void.
“Sure thing, Barry. Which one of them first?”
“The orange-haired one. She’ll revive the other one if we don’t get rid of her first.” Mr. Game’s hands started forming green sparks of code—balls of neon green with darker green zeros and ones rotating around the energy core—and powered up a shot aimed at my immortality patch. I panicked as Ness tried to drag me out with him.
“Amber, what are you going to do, fuzzy pickles?!” exclaimed Ness. “If you sit here, you’re going to die!”
“I dunno, that’s the thing! I could run in circles!”
“No, that’s a bad idea! You’ll still have a chance at getting hit! Fuzzy pickles, Amber, get your crap together!”
“But I—” The next thing I remember was Ness pulling me to the gym floor in preparation, but I also heard a loud stomp once again, the trance leaving Mr. Game and Mr. Watch. The two shook their heads and watched the remaining students in the gym, who had moved to the bleachers with their lunch bags out in hopes of watching the fireworks. Mr. Game simply stared at his hands, realizing what would’ve happened if his trance had continued to consume him.
“What… I cannot have been…” he mumbled to himself, releasing the energy balls into the ceiling and creating a small hole, catching Ness and I off-guard. Mr. Watch jumped back at the sound of the explosion and breathed heavily for a few minutes.
“Oh my Arceus, what the Nether was that?” he exclaimed, taking a few steps back and wrapping his arm around Mr. Game protectively without realizing he was the one who made the explosion.
“I-I do not know! I… The e-energy s-s-spheres…” Mr. Game responded, terrified. “If I had not shot them at the ceiling, I fear what would have transpired!”
“Mr. Game!” I shouted in relief, running towards him and hugging him. “Ohhh, you don’t know what happened, do you?”
“N-No,” Mr. Game cried back, wiping his eyes. Ness simply watched us with a pained look on his face. I couldn’t help but feel bad for him. “All I remember w-was a blast… My mind went b-b-blank… I felt a strange force almost controlling me, and I could not fight back no matter how hard I tried. It was almost like I slipped into a coma.”
“That’s because you were being controlled,” I remarked boldly. As Mr. Game’s face fell into a look of shock and horror and his eyes widened, I felt the guilt rising higher inside me and hugged Mr. Game tightly. “Look, I’m not ever going to let this happen to you again. I’m never letting you fall into that horrible void again…” I started thinking back to last week, how I’d almost died colliding with the Academy roof, and how Mr. Game would have died if it hadn’t been for my copy powers. I had hit the lowest in my life when that happened—I apparently disappeared into a mess of code when I’d found Mr. Game’s then-dead body—and although I managed to recover from that and bring him back, I wasn’t going to let there be a next time… especially if next time doesn’t end so well. Ness approached us slowly, crying silently and trembling from emotional overwhelm, and he took off his cap to fidget with it as he tried to talk to us.
“Amber, Mr. Game… fuzzy pickles, we should be leaving now. You missed the announcements, and Mr. Watch announced school is ending early today because of this whole mess,” he mumbled just loud enough so I could hear. I noticed the blue rim of his hat fly back and forth before it eventually came back to his head and stayed there, his arms wrapped tightly around me as if to hug me once again. Ness had never been this clingy to me before, let alone to anyone (at least from what I saw—I don’t know what goes on when I’m not around), so I knew he was torn on the inside. His life seemed to be near-perfect before… all this. He had everything going right, and all of a sudden, he’d lost his father, his mother went into hysterics, his family’s money had been taken, and Tracy had been kidnapped. If we didn’t find her in time, it’s likely she would be killed, too. I returned Ness’s emotional embrace and ran my fingers through the ends of his shoulder-length black hair before coming back to Mr. Game’s side, wrapping my arm around his shoulders protectively.
“Alright! I was getting sick of being here today, anyways,” I replied, starting my run through the halls and leaving my two best friends in the dust. The hallways were packed with students just like they were yesterday, making getting out of the Academy a bit of a challenge, even though I didn’t mind tripping people if it meant I got to go home. However, I didn’t get far before I was stopped in the hallway, being grabbed by my hair and thrown to the floor by it due to my movement being suddenly restrained, despite the fact that my hair was extremely long.
“Ahh!” I screamed, raising a fist at the person and realizing it was Trooper. This time, he had stopped to talk to me instead of the other way around. “What was that for?”
“Look, Amber, I can’t find Kooper and I haven’t seen her all day,” Trooper replied angrily, as if he knew something bad had happened to her. This felt a bit too much like Ness’s situation to me.
“You know where she is, don’t you?!”
“Huh? N-No, I don’t!” I replied quickly, unsure of how to respond. I felt my face going a little red, as if I’d done something wrong and was caught doing it. I’ve had that feeling way more than I ever should.
“Don’t play stupid! You thought you could get away with it earlier, but I can tell you that you won’t now!”
“W-What do you mean? Are you trying to say I’ve kidnapped Kooper?!” I exclaimed in shock. I have no reason to kidnap anyone! Sure, no one may like Kooper, but I wouldn’t kidnap her. I’d probably just shut her mouth with duct tape.
“Yes! Knowing what you were like as a five-year old, you have every reason to do it, you monster of a so-called human!” I felt every word screech into my ears, my once-good feelings falling into the floor. There was no denying I did a lot of killing as a kid. I had to do it for income and a place to stay before I found that abandoned house when I was seven. I was twisted back then, but I’ve changed! I don’t kill people for the sake of it anymore! I only do it when necessary!
“Well, Kooper’s brought it onto herself! She’s the most annoying little pain in the ass I’ve ever had to deal with! She’s always screaming so loud into your face you become practically deaf, and she may as well have the entire cafeteria to herself! Think about this crap! This is why no one likes her!!” I watched triumphantly as Trooper backed off, his face going red and his arms starting to retract into his shell. However, it wasn’t long until he was back in my face, digging away at my insecurities.
“SO? I at last have the human capabilities to treat people with respect! If you had a brain, you’d be nicer to others! The things you’ve said should’ve had you expelled long ago!” I felt myself starting to grit my teeth together as I processed every word. I wasn’t gonna get anywhere without striking deeper. I paused to think about what I could shoot at before preparing my next steps.
“If you had a brain, you wouldn’t have dropped out of school in the Mushroom Kingdom! You may say I’m not kind, but even if that’s true, I’m at least making a conscious effort to be educated! You’re probably only in school now because you moved and April’s making you! Besides, I do actually know how to be nice, thank you, and Mr. Game knows me inside-out!” I saw Trooper’s eyes widen as I spat out insults, trembling in his spot, and I shouted one last sentence before taking a break. “Kooper isn’t even that important in the first place!” I started regretting what I’d said as soon as I heard the relatively high voice ring through my ears once again.
“Oh really, huh? Mr. Game knows your so-called nice side? Does your nice side even exist?” Trooper’s grin extended across the sides of his face, and I felt my forehead going hot with anger. I wasn’t having any of this.
“Yes, he DOES! And he KNOWS that I’m a nice person to some! He’s been in the best emotional state he ever has since coming into my care!!” I screeched. My horror intensified as Trooper smirked even more.
“You say that… but is it true? You’ve let him be bullied, nitpicked, belittled, tormented, discriminated against… not to mention you barely have any money. You can’t even maintain proper living standards. The kid’s depressed, and you say he’s been in the best condition he’s ever been in?! Lies. All lies. Social services should’ve been called the moment you gained custody!” I… I… My mind snapped like a twig.
“No one’s ever going to take Mr. Game from me!! Arceusdamn you and your sorry ass, Trooper!!” I shrieked at the top of my lungs, throwing multiple punches at him and knocking him to the ground. Trooper looked at me with a horrified look on his face, a face of regret and fear of my power… and a face that wasn’t gonna change anything about how he’d hurt my pride. No one dares to take shots at my responsibilities as a 12-year old legal guardian, and this is why. As I reached into my pocket for a useful weapon, I felt two sharp, pinching forces on my elbows starting to pull me away strongly and realized that Mr. Game and Ness had finally caught up to me.
“Amber, fuzzy pickles! Arceusdammit, you should know it’s not right to beat people up by now!” shouted Ness loudly.
“I don’t care! Fight me at three o’clock, on the dark, you heartless object! You’re too low to even deserve to be classified a living thing!” I demanded as I tried to fight being dragged off. However, my two friends together turned out to be stronger than me, even though I normally had more strength than the both of them. Maybe it was because I was super-angry and could only focus on wanting to kill Trooper. I soon realized that I was being dragged on the sidewalk towards home, the crisp wind hitting my face like daggers.
“Ness, shall we let go of Amber now?” asked Mr. Game. He looked at me for a moment with concern, studying me carefully. “I do believe she has calmed down enough to let her free.”
“Should be fine, fuzzy pickles,” replied Ness with a shrug, letting go of my arm. Mr. Game did the same soon after, and I sighed as I held both my arms in pain, rubbing them to try to ease the aching. Neither seemed to understand what had just gone on. They must’ve missed it.
“Arceusdamn Trooper…” I growled. “He’s gonna get it tomorrow!”
“What happened? Did you inevitably end up in a fight again?” asked Mr. Game. He sighed, as if he already knew the answer.
“Yep. He accused me of kidnapping Kooper for some reason, and the next thing you know, I’ve knocked him to the ground!” I exclaimed rather proudly, even though I shouldn’t have. Ness looked at me weirdly, with a romantic sparkle in his eyes.
“Amber, even after my warning after Science, you still fearlessly beat people up!” he squealed happily. He was so obviously driven by his love for me to say that, even I couldn’t help but cringe on the inside. Nonetheless, it didn’t change the fact that I loved Ness the same I did Mr. Game.
“It’s not brave,” I stated. “It was only because he’d started attacking me. Granted, I was attacking him, too, but he went further with it.” At that moment, I noticed the three of us pass by the convenience store from earlier today. I winked at Mr. Game and Ness, and while Ness nodded with a grin on his face, Mr. Game facepalmed and looked at me with a disappointed look.
“Please do not drag me into one of your thievery schemes again…” muttered Mr. Game as I hauled him into the dumpy convenience store. It was pretty crappy looking as I’d expected, almost like our own home, but even my house managed to look somehow clean. There was dust pretty much everywhere, the food on the surprising well lined up, partially destroyed birch shelves was mostly outdated, and there wasn't even much selection to begin with. The floors were made of rotting oak, as were the ceiling bars, and the actual ceiling itself was made of moldy drywall. Mr. Game pointed to the cooler shelves, where barely any drinks were available, and I swear I even saw boiled eggs and trout for sale. I think I saw some cereal, too, but I couldn’t tell.
“Hey, go grab some of that cereal over there,” I whispered. “Check the dates to make sure they won’t go bad by the time we get home. Try to get some of that trout, too… if it’s still good. Might help for that dinner tonight.”
“How much do you want me to get?” asked Mr. Game worriedly with a wavering voice, unsure of the plan as usual. There’s a Walmart around here, and Mr. Game and I will go in from time to time taking whatever we can get our hands on. Normally, that ends with me kicking someone’s butt and getting to keep everything because no one can catch up, minus anything Mr. Game drops. Sometimes, he’ll just leave his whole stash behind out of guilt.
“Hmm… Three cereal boxes and two trout. Should hold us over for tonight. There’s three of us eating, so two trout should be enough.” I replied a little louder. I went over to the cooler and grabbed an armful of water bottles, so that hopefully we could have some to reuse. I noticed Mr. Game’s eyes go wide as he picked up the trout from the shelf, looking at its price.
“Sixteen Pokos per trout?!” exclaimed Mr. Game in shock. “That is absurd! No Onett citizen should have to pay this much for a single trout!” I saw the cashier turn to him in disdain, giving him a snotty look that made me feel like he wanted us out of the store. Ness ran in and hid in the corner, seeming to grab a few chocolate bars.
“That’s why we have to get by the easy way when we can. What’s the best before date?” I walked over the cereal aisle and stared in domestic horror at the prices. “This cereal is seven freaking Pokos per box! Jeez, that’s insane!”
“Umm, it is… September 23rd when the trout expires? That is in fact a fresh trout!” replied Mr. Game, smiling at the thought of eating fish for dinner tonight. I think the most expensive dinner we’ve ever had in a while was KFC. That’s honestly pretty pathetic, and it makes me feel even worse about our financial standing. Ugh…
“Fuzzy pickles, you know what to do.” Ness got out of the chocolate aisle with a fistful of chocolate bars and winked at me. “Now’s the time.” I knew instantly that now was the time to book it for the door and get outta here, so I got myself ready to run and started running. However, the cashier caught on, and he ran in front of the door, blocking the exit.
“No one’s getting out of here with stolen merchandise!” yelled the cashier sternly. “Put them back or pay for them!”
“B-But we do not have any food otherwise!” cried Mr. Game, referring to the two of us but playing up the situation to hopefully justify the stealing. It was his normal tactic before I would eventually shove him out the door.
“I don't care if you’re broke or starving; no one’s getting out of here with unpaid product!” Thinking quickly, I looked for something I could use to distract the cashier, and realized I could start eating one of Ness’s chocolate bars. I snatched a Twix bar out of his hand and opened the wrapper, starting to devour the chocolate inside.
“A-Amber, what are you—”
“Just get outta here!” I smirked as the cashier moved from the door and started charging at me with his black beard flowing in the wind, watching as Mr. Game and Ness hurried out the door and to the street.
“You will pay for that chocolate bar right now!” screamed the cashier.
“Or you’ll pay for this,” I laughed, grabbing a trout from the cooler, opening its package, and promptly using it to slap the man multiple times. His blue polo shirt was water-stained and smelt like rotting fish. I must’ve grabbed one of the expired fish. Dammit. At least it works.
“You filthy teenager! All of them these days, coming in and thinking they can get away with this!” The cashier had obviously become frustrated at this point.
“Trust me, I wouldn’t be doing this if I were better off in life,” I remarked one last time, slapping the cashier one last time and running out the door while biting my tongue to resist the urge to admit I lied to his face. Jogging to catch up with Mr. Game and Ness, the thought of the stalker suddenly came to my mind once again, and I decided that since it was the day before the stalker attacked, we had to try to figure out who it was sending us the notes. The cement road’s yellow paint was cracked, as if it were old, and whatever trees were there flowed beautifully in the wind. “So who do you think is Mr. Stalk-It Note?” It didn’t even take a second before Ness answered.
“It’s got to be Tracy’s kidnapper, fuzzy pickles!” he exclaimed. “There’s no other explanation for why anyone else would do it! Besides, fuzzy pickles, this stalker seems to really like picking at our weakest emotional points! Fuzzy pickles!”
“Ness, calm down. We will find Tracy. There is no doubting that it could have been the stalker, as they have likely captured Emily by now, but…” Mr. Game paused for a moment, as if guilt was swirling inside him and was only now starting to show. Was Mr. Game keeping something from me?
“But what? Are you hiding something from me?!” I asked, pushing for an answer. Mr. Game stuttered for a moment before answering
“N-No! I m-m-meant to say t-that I believe it is unlikely that the stalker would kidnap someone.”
“…But why would they have threatened ransom on Emily, then?”
“I do not know. Others seem to enjoy my endless struggles.” Mr. Game sighed and hung his head low, seeming to get closer to letting his emotions out and crying. Ness only seemed to get more determined to free Tracy, but I found myself lost in a sea of questions. What was the point of even stalking us? Why let your presence be known by posting sticky notes everywhere? Why would you want to stalk us? It’s not like we’re… wait, we kinda destroyed Eggman’s plans last week. That’s kinda important. Even still!
“So whoever the kidnapper is, they could be an option, fuzzy pickles! Any other suggestions?” Ness nervously giggled and took his cap off, messing up his hair with his hand and spinning the hat on his finger for a few moments.
“I…” Mr. Game fell silent once again. This time, I knew better to question it, but the urge just swelled bigger once I heard his next sentence, my heart dropping. “It could… after the assembly… maybe it is me.”
“Why would you think that?!” me and Ness both exclaimed at the same time, a fuzzy pickles faintly sounding during my loud scream. What reason did Mr. Game have to think he was the stalker?!
“Well, I was hypnotized, was I not?” Mr. Game reasoned. “I was not aware I was while I was under that influence, so could it not make sense that I am being hypnotized to write you two and myself threatening notes? Why would I want to take Emily hostage? That makes sense. Why would I be... What is one note you have received?”
“Fuzzy pickles, um…”
“The stalker was happy I’d kinda shut down Ness yesterday,” I suggested, my feelings grim.
“And that is another thing I would have reason to feel the same way over. I shall make it well-known that you two should not be dating in my eyes.”
“B-But how could you have written that first note? Fuzzy pickles, you were falling from the sky when it would have been written!” Ness had a worried look on his face, as if he were trying to find a way to break Mr. Game’s theory. I deeply hoped he could.
“I believe that was written beforehand. Ness, yours did say we had three days, am I correct?”
“It did,” I blurted out before Ness could even think of an answer.
“That limit could have anything. I could have initiated those three days any time by posting the note later.”
“It’s not you!” I exclaimed suddenly. I wasn’t ready to believe that my precious Mr. Game was the stalker. Whoever was threatening our lives, whoever was sending the notes… It couldn’t have been him…
“…And if it is not, I find it likely to be...”
“Who?!”
“I-I cannot explain. I believe I was hallucinating an encounter with the stalker today.” Mr. Game had quickly shaken off the thought of the stalker being anyone else, absolutely certain he was Mr. Stalk-It Note. I felt tears welling in my eyes, but I couldn’t let myself show weakness at a time like this. I had to be the strong one, the one to carry my friends and I through the tough times.
“There’s no way it’s you!” I tried to protest. “There’s just––I mean––you can’t be––”
“Calm down, Amber. We still do not know who it is. Tomorrow, at least you two will know the truth… but whether I will is still a mystery.” Mr. Game kept walking silently until he bumped into the door to Ness’s house, falling down in surprise and suddenly snapping out of his half-asleep manner.
“H-Huh?! Oh…” The three of us laughed in the moment as Ness unlocked the door to his house, shoving us all inside playfully and taking the food from Mr. Game’s arms, throwing it heavily and half-efforted onto the kitchen counter. The kitchen was a lot more humble-looking than Ness’s living room. It was small and had tiling reminiscent to that of a public washroom, but much, much cleaner and professional-looking than a public washroom. The kitchen counters had beautiful granite finishes to them, and were outfitted with clean white cabinets and drawers. A chandelier hung over where the maple dining table stood, its bare surface calling for someone to use it, the ring in my ears painfully similar to Ness’s cries for his family to return. Ness heaved his backpack off his shoulder and stared at the table blankly for a few moments before pounding his fists by one of the cereal boxes and calling for our opinions.
“So what are we doing with this trout, fuzzy pickles? Perhaps we cook it coated with those Frosted Flakes you stole?” Ness started unwrapping the trout and scavenged for latex gloves in the drawers, slipping them onto his hands and pulling a knife from a different drawer. He proceeded to open the cardboard box the cereal laid in.
“That sounds surprisingly indulging,” stated Mr. Game. He stared hungrily at the Frosted Flakes as if he was ready to start devouring them, before I pulled out a knife from the same drawer as Ness had and grabbed the unwrapped trout to start preparing it. However, it wasn’t long until I heard the rustling of flimsy plastic and the crunching of the sugary cereal.
“Fuzzy pickles, Mr. Game! We’re using those with dinner!” exclaimed Ness, snatching the box away and peering inside to check how much was left. “...There’s only half of them left…”
“Holy crap, you’re quick,” I remarked. Mr. Game’s eyes went wide and he covered his mouth.
“She is safe!” The Quartasian started breathing heavily, leaving me suspicious. A horrible feeling starter crawling up my spine…
“Who is safe? Is this about Emily?” I tried to raise my eyebrows but couldn’t quite do it right, causing Ness to start laughing like I had at him. His smile soon disappeared, however.
“I-I… I bailed her!” Mr. Game grabbed more Frosted Flakes and devoured them, leaving about quarter of what was originally eaten left. He must’ve skipped lunch again, probably because… Hooooooold on. No. I’m going to lose my Arceusdamn mind!! “I could not let the stalker take her, no matter what! Even if the stalker is me! I could not let her fall into evil hands! Amber Tzaziki, you must understand my motive! You must understand why I had to use your debit card! I had to steal it and use its savings for her! I… I…”
“YOU WHAAAAAAAAT?!” I stopped chopping the trout and whipped around to see Mr. Game’s worried expression. He knew he was gonna get it big time. Ness froze in place, almost like he had three weeks ago, frightened he was gonna he hurt. With me, he had every reason to think that. “You went through my bank! You went and threw all our money into the trash! You’ve gone and ruined our current financial state!! You’ve betrayed both of us!!” I swung my arms wildly at Mr. Game with each sentence, hoping I would somehow get him to earn back what he’d spent away. How could he have betrayed us so easily and so secretively?! If he hadn’t said anything, I wouldn’t have suspected him one bit!
“You do not understand what it is like to––AAAAAAAAH!!” Mr. Game shrieked at the top of his lungs, dropping to the floor and clutching his arm protectively, as if it’d been injured badly.
“AMBER TZAZIKI, STOP YOURSELF BEFORE YOU KILL HIM!!” Ness burst into tears and ran off, endlessly dropping uses of fuzzy pickles while trying to find something. I shook my head and looked down at the ground, my head going light as I stared at the knife and the pale, silver-red stream of blood trailing off its tip and dripping onto the floor. I’d made a huge mistake. And I wasn’t sure if it could be fixed.
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