Lost

by xnobody13

An overtly pretentious tale of Wyn accidentally losing her ball. On her trek to find it, how will her life change? How will life change for all of us? Rated T for certain themes. Stars Wyn in a leading role.

Lost
by Xnobody13

The ball rolled straight into the ditch without a care. It simply skimmed across the astroturf of the field, barely bouncing into the air as it drifted down the emptied stadium. It barely lost traction as it left into the shadows, exiting the arena down a tiny alcove. The cloudy overcast watched its solemn movements as it left the building deserted and bleak. Even the wind, which sounded so heavenly and strong, merely flew by, a careful greeting forgotten.

With the empty seats and tired concessions, the arena sighed in boredom; a tired day followed by another. There was nary a game played over the weeks, for nothing had been accomplished that would require such an event. As the world outside continued to move on, the stadium stood cold against the chilly air. An occasional custodian gave it its only company, and even that was for a brief moment; a time to just remind it how needed it was in the coming months. It will get better, no need to worry. Soon, thousands will flood it again, and watch as a bunch of athletes try and prove who was the best around.

But that would only be a respite. It would all go back to being the same.

It sighed as the ball left, but at the same time it felt a sense of longing. After all, the ball had to roll somehow, and no wind was low enough to stretch its deathly breeze onto its polyurethane body. Thus, something had to make it move, and the arena itself had no power of its own to accomplish such a miniscule task.

A lone soul stood alone against the mighty field of falseness. The mighty dome of the building, with all of its uninvited loneliness watching down towards the showstage, stood no match to her unwavered spirit. A small stature for a young woman, she adorned herself as if she was one of the common teams often spotted. Her rather basic look gave way to her spunk and energy, two traits the arena truly cherished.

When the stars and friends all left, she was among the few that chose to continue to play. A child at heart, her brown ponytail resting upon her head bobbed as she snuck through the ticket booths, carrying that blue-and-yellow ball of hers as went right to the center, oftentimes bouncing it all over herself while singing a tune. She always smiled, even on the more rainy days, and even after hours have passed, soaked in sweat, mud, and even blood on certain occasions, she always had her teeth showing in peaceful bliss.

After so many encounters, the arena learned many things. He learned that the young girl sported the name Wyn, and while still in a youthful era of her life, it seemed she had some ownership over the whole establishment, though her parents have never been mentioned. She had many a friend in her life, including the leader herself, Miss Black Heart. She was always kind and courteous, even during a spell where it seemed that she was under the influence of spiritual being. Yet, with such a beautiful heart, she was never followed by anyone, and it even appeared that she tried to keep anyone from seeing it her. Quite the confusing reality, but as long as she was having fun, what more was there to say?

On this very day, after a long rain fell upon the city, the grass was still covered in the droplets of the sky as she once more made acquaintance with the astroturf. The wind above made a deep howling growl as she walked to the center, unfazed at the seemingly endless echo of the opened chamber. With a laugh filled with jolly, she kicked the ball as high as possible, allowing it to sail down to her knee below, balancing it as she felt so at ease. Alone on a damp field, she continued to balance the ball with every appendage she owned, refusing to let it slide off of her. It was quite the sight to behold, but in the end, the arena held no complaints.

But she was human, just like everyone else. She had the power to keep that ball in the air for as long as she wanted; anyone with the correct set of skills or flair could do what she did with relative ease. However, sooner or later, one tiny misstep will cause the ball to come crumbling down, a simple gesture to showcase just how much you have failed. It was coming down upon her head, a move she had perfected over the years, but just as she jumped up to greet it, her shoe became undone, and she found herself caught against her untied lace, tumbling to the ground like the end of the Hindenburg. She smashed into the fake grass, feeling the shame well up as the ball left the vicinity, rolling out towards a busted wall.

Regaining her composure, she looked over at its wet trail and sighed to the world. "Man, I gotta be more careful. I could've broken my neck!" She dusted off her knees, mending a tiny bruise that developed against her thigh. Looking up at the bleak sky above, she slowly made her way towards the ball's location. She was in no hurry or rush; there was hardly a soul there all week, so she had nothing to fear or hide. Putting a smile on, she treated the ball as if it was her own child. "Where'd you roll to, bally? You didn't get stuck in the crabgrass again, right? Oh, that was an adventure!"

Her vivid, somewhat-splendid memories were filled with so much joy, that she nearly forgot about the fact that the ball took a slight turn on its saddened journey. She reached the wall of the establishment, and noticed the slight opening on the walls, where a faded image of a flower monster stood so goofy, advertising a cleaning product she never used nor understood. Her smile remained, though there was a slight hint of annoyance growing on her features. "Honestly, you can't have a good game if the walls are all bent like this! Someone should give the repair guys the red card!"

Looking around to confirm she was indeed alone, she pushed the wall over, avoiding the metal grating that hung so carelessly in the air, entering a side of the arena she never thought of ever seeing. Stepping off of the official game ground, she found herself in a strange alleyway, gray being the only color to greet her with any form of tenacity. Most likely an area where support crew lie during games, it sat abandoned just like everything else. Besides an occasional graffiti art on the wall, it was abandoned like everything else, with the high opening above making the room a dangerous sounding funnel.

There were a few dead leaves scattered about on the paved ground, and she walked over the broken remains of litter some careless fans (or even a rogue worker) as she kept that smile of hers firmly on that face. "Hm, where did that pesky ball roll to? I know it was in this direction," she muttered to no one in particular. Even being happy while alone still lead to some conversations with oneself.

The place had a dead-end on one side, a brick wall that appeared way too hastily made to be considered safe, so she had no other choice but to follow the other way. Perhaps it was due to the more claustrophobic design, but she had to admit that she felt a little weird walking down the path. The discarded remains of games long past didn't help put her mind at ease, but she did see the path her ball ended up taking; at least she was getting somewhere. "Wow, you got some distance! You got a long life ahead of you, though if you could just show yourself..."

She eventually reached another roadblock, though like the wall from the arena, this one had a tear straight down the middle, perfect for a perfectly-timed ball to roll right on through. "I never was that accurate," she investigated the opening and looked through it. The other side, much like hers, had an alleyway with all the scattered debris she came to expect. However, she did notice something odd on this side, something that just made her way too confused. It sat underneath the rafters above, an abandoned wreck that one wonders if anyone ever happened to see before.

It was a tiny home, overgrown with vines and weeds that it seems even the custodians just didn't care for. It was a diluted brown, water damage bringing it's wood-and-brick combination to a darkened state. The roof was merely a bunch of sheetmetal bunched together, with openings at almost every corner. Two windows and a doorway with no covering greeted her on this side, with the glass either shattered or about to. A tiny rock served as a doormat in front, with what appeared to be petunia bushes long rotted over the tides of time. The inside could be seen, but all she could make out was a dusty table as an intersection marker. The paint on the wall, what she assumed to be red, was starting to peel.

It looked more abandoned than the arena was now. It was clear no one could've lived there and be happy, and with the damage now, Wyn wondered if anyone even stepped into it over the past few years. It just looked so lost within this arena, like time just happened to forget about it and move on. She never heard anyone talk about it, and wouldn't it be a top priority to get rid of it for the masses? It was just so confusing to take it all in.

"Still, I don't see my ball, so...oh no."

As she observed the home, she made note that no matter where she looked, her ball remained lost. Unless it managed to lose itself amongst the overgrowth around on the sides, she only saw one opening past this point, and it was a sight she truly wished didn't exist. She sighed and stomped the ground, feeling so helpless. "Okay, I couldn't have gotten that lucky!" She continued to look through the door, seeing all the dust and even a discarded spider web hanging from the passageway. "Oh, but there's nowhere else! I have to check. That ball is my life, and I refuse to let it down!"

She took a big gulp and once again investigated behind her, making sure no one happened to see her going through what she assumed was a dark secret; every big place needed one, right? That's what Generia told her once. Of course, she would have to be the one to enter said dark secret, but maybe everything will be all right in the end. It was just a quiet, abandoned home, more akin to a hovel than anything. Besides a spider or two, she was probably still alone.

"Well, here goes nothing!"

She took a deep breath and squeezed herself through the opening, wiping away the granite that fell upon her head. She managed to make it through to the other side with ease, though it didn't help her emotions one bit. Getting a better look of the scenery, she felt somewhat sad all of a sudden. There were a lot more plants than she thought, and aside from the invasive species growing all over the house, the whole area was essentially dead. The grass was browning, the flowers were all shriveled up, and a discarded watering can lost its green shine as rust took its toll.

"Wow. What was this place? It looks kinda..." she really wanted to say beautiful there, even though it wouldn't normally apply. It was disgusting, yes, but even with the dearly departed all around, it had a strange, well, antique feel to it. It was so silent, to the point that she felt a form a peace growing within those dilapidated walls. The wind managed to reach the vines, shaking the leaves with a ferociousness of a fierce storm. It looked threatening and filled to the brim with horror, but for whatever reason, Wyn felt somewhat invited. It was like the house, alone for many a moon passing, wanted a friend so badly. The arena could only sympathize.

Just walk in, get the ball, and leave. Simple as that, Wyn. Simple as that.

She slowly inched her way up the stone walkway, which itself was overgrown with weeds. The only bug she saw, a lone beetle with a body similar to a scarab, tranced about, the only life she could recall seeing. The open mouth of the home, with the wind blowing through its walls and rafters, let a chill escape through, though the soccer girl dared not give a shiver. Her eyes were filled with terror, but at the same time wonder; was her ball truly in there? There was nowhere else it could be, but she really did hope she made a wrong turn somewhere.

Alas, she made it to the doorway, and even when standing there she could barely see anything within. The thick smell of rotten wood, mold, and decay greeted her upon entry, and even blocking both nostrils did not give any aid. The paint looked worse up close, and the wood underneath appeared to be home to many a creature; at least there was more life than she thought. The entryway was merely a fork leading to the other rooms, though from what she could tell, heading right was impossible, for wooden planks and panels blocked her way. "G-Golly. This is really freaky."

Summoning up the courage to continue on, she turned to the left, trying her best to see what was before her. While a window was indeed there for light to seep through, the amount of dust and grime trapped on the pane blocked anything from coming through; a faint blue glow, but nothing more for her. She stood alone for a few minutes, but no matter what, her eyes were just not adjusting well. She would just have to watch her step, and hope that that ball of hers was close by. Can't be much farther in, right? She was surprised it didn't stop at the doorway.

She fumbled about, trying to find footing on the debris-covered carpet; a cemetery for a random assortment of household furniture, from broken vases to the destroyed wooden chairs. It was all so surreal as well, for it had a look of what someone would suspect a home to look from many a year ago. The destruction and the decay definitely took their toll, but she felt that in its heyday, the building would've been quite the sight to see.

She determined it was the living room, judging by the square TV at one end and a recliner perfect for watching it. It was definitely a strange sight to behold, especially with an umbrella where the screen would be. She managed to make it to the next room, which was rather well lit thanks to a lone bulb still powered on in the center. She started to wonder if continuing was a good idea in the end, but she refused to leave that ball of hers alone. Besides, if someone working here happen to find it first, she will never hear the end of it.

The kitchen was just in so much disarray; a sink that refused to stop dripping, a microwave that was filled with an unknown substance, and trash all over the cabinets and floors. It had a sickening smell, and she nearly gagged right there. "Jeez, what happened here?" she wondered, though she really wanted to know how her ball got this far. Unlike the other rooms, where you could argue that there was some ways the ball could actually continue on, there was no such excuse for this room. The only way she was able to move was thanks to her being able to climb over an overturn refrigerator. There was just no way her ball made it this far.

"I didn't miss it, though. Does...does that mean somebody picked it up? No...no, that can't be right! I must have went the wrong way, yeah! No one lives here-"

She had to shut herself up. She didn't hear anything, no, but she did feel a sudden feeling of sadness. That smile of hers was now completely gone, and for whatever reason, she felt a tear rolling down her cheek. She managed to step out of the kitchen and into a hallway, which was surprisingly clear compared to everything else. Once she was able to find solid ground, she had to hold herself for a few seconds. She almost broke into a full sob, but she just couldn't figure out why she even felt like that to begin with. It was just an abandoned house; as far as she knew, perhaps no one ever lived here to begin with. It could just be a storage place that was abandoned.

"Come on, girl, get it together. You have to find the ball now!"

She shook her head and continued onwards, proceeding with caution as she moved. It was just a straight hallway, with two rooms to the left and one to the right, a closet greeting her at the very end. It only held an old door within, or at least that was all that she could see. There was no light this time, though the two rooms on the left had some sort of glow to them, and suddenly that depression was mixed with fright once more; an ominous omen that made her cringe ever entering this building in the first place.

What was she find once she turned into that first room? Will it be destroyed like the others? Would it look like an abandoned part of history? Would someone be in there waiting for her, probably waiting to attack her viciously? Perhaps her ball ended up in there, and somehow it caused the room to glow so brightly. Hopefully, at least for her sake.

She took a deep breath, and turned the corner. "Please be safe, please be safe, please be safe..."

Slowly opening the wooden door some more, she gazed inside. There was a window on the far side, bringing in far too much light in comparison to the arena outside. It highlighted the bed underneath, one that consisted of only one mattress barely covered by a dark blue sheet. There was no blanket that she could find, and like the majority of the house, there was dirt and grime all over it. It was clear that it wasn't used for years, possibly even decades. The carpet below, a similar shade of the depressing hue, followed suit in its hurt state. It was clear of anything foreign, but it was certainly far from habitable.

And yet, that wasn't what concerned her. To the sides of the room were shelves after shelves, with a table on the left side, a broken computer resting on top. There were toys, portraits, statuettes, books, and even old records from a distant age on those high boards. It was hard to tell who they were from the doorway, but she was able to see what laid upon the walls all around. It was the sight of these that truly set her on edge.

They were posters of a few friends of her from her adventure long ago. Pictures of the proclaimed leaders of the land. There was Neptune, Vert, Blanc, and Noire, all transformed and posing like there was no tomorrow. Unlike the rest of the house, these posters were extremely vibrant and colorful, filled with life unlike any other, giving the room a rather warm feeling to it. Even though they were just drawings, they appeared to be animated with life expected from a human being. They were either smiling or filled with determination, two traits she remembered fondly from those days. It was an extreme contrast to the depressing atmosphere, and she felt even more drawn into the room than ever before.

Her first destination was a poster beside the bed. Unlike the others, it was not placed on the wall yet, and it was even folded nearly. She felt sad to check it out, but it didn't seem like anyone would be needing it anytime soon. "Gee, I've never seen such a huge fan of the CPU's! Why is there house so destroyed?" it was an active question, but one that she didn't mind an answer right away; at least, not right now.

She unfolded it at all of its points, and when it was unraveled she saw it as a huge poster, far bigger than the other ones so far. Laying it on the bed, she gawked at how detailed it was. On the strange poster-like material, she saw Lady Black Heart first, standing in front of the other three leaders, all looking triumphant and powerful, just like their real-world counterparts. Each one of them were painted in a beautiful shade, with expression akin to the actual soul.

Behind all four of them stood all of her friends from the big adventure. Closest to her were people like Estelle and Lid, two of the more powerful helpers she remembered. People like Moru and Lee Fai followed soon after, spread out like a big puddle behind the Goddesses. Each had a nice pose to them as well, even giving the strange ones (like Ai) a nice smile. She even found herself suddenly feeling overjoyed again, seeing the heavy nostalgia filling her mind once more. Her heart felt warm, and her smile was carefree and generous. She wondered how all of her friends were doing right now; were they happy in their respective cities? She could only assume, and it made her sleep well at night anyways.

But the more she looked at the poster, the more she began to notice something strange. All of them were standing there proud and ready for combat, but it seemed that after the first three people, everyone else began to appear transparent. She first noticed it with Generia, where you could still make her out, but it seemed as if someone ran over her image with an eraser. This occurred to everyone behind her, all looking even worse, to the point that some, like Little Rain, were barely there to begin with. They all had a smile on and all, but you wouldn't be able to tell unless you looked real hard.

"Why are they...huh?"

Now that she noticed this, she realized that, unless she was behind Little Rain, she was nowhere to be found. She looked it over once again, looking at every detail in the design, but no matter where her eyes went, she could not even find a drawing of a soccer ball. Wyn simply did not exist, and if she did, she wasn't viewable with the naked eye.

"But...but why? What's going on? What is all this, anyways?"

Trying to take her mind off of it, she decided to look over at the shelves. It was here that she once again saw merchandise based on the CPU's and some of their merry friends. They were all so tiny, no more than the size of her index finger. Once more, the Goddesses were the first in line, followed by the other ladies. She was hoping for a better presentation this time, but unfortunately, fate proved to be a cruel mistress that day.

This time, as the toys went on, they looked more and more ruined. Moru looked fine, but Sango next to her was covered in a thicket of dirt, with the others nearby falling apart. Sadly, Little Rain was at the end of the display, and the only thing that could be identified was her two shoes; the rest of her lay in crumbs all about, barely distinguishable from the dirt and dust. Wyn looked at each one, and just like the poster, she was not even present. It was as if this fan of their adventures completely forgot about her involvement. It made her even question her own involvement in the end.

"Why, though? Where am I? Where's that ball?"

She tried to forget what she saw, and she wanted to leave. She saw a book next to the computer with all of their names on it, and for a moment she felt happy. She saw everyone there in equal fashion, and for a brief moment, she felt a lot of hope. Maybe she would see her name this time, or at least some sort of acknowledgment. She didn't understand why she really cared; it was just some crazy looking fan in a destroyed house. It wasn't someone that important, though thinking like that made her feel bad.

Yet, when she looked at it, her name was omitted, and an even closer inspection showed the other other names, sans a few, crossed over; names were still legible, but they were still covered by an ugly line. She opened the book, flipping through every page. Each one appeared to have some artwork of her friends, even listing some interesting trivia about them. Some she could easily dispute, but the others she couldn't help but let a chuckle out. It was nice to at least feel some happiness.

"Come on, I have to be in here! I know it's creepy, but I'm not that forgettable, right?"

Sadly, it seemed that she was. She flipped through all the pages, but no matter what, she had no page dedicated to herself. The farther the book went, the less info was given about people, so did she really not have anything interesting? She knew she had some accomplishments under her belt, so maybe they just didn't know? It was just so concerning that not even her picture made it in.

Frustrated, she threw the book against the wall, feeling completely rejected by time. "I...Why don't I exist? I don't get it! I helped out, didn't I? I know I did! I caused some problems, but they were forgiven, at least I hope." She pranced about the room, anger filling her mind. She didn't know whether she was angry at herself, or this person that chose not to remember her. She slammed a few objects to the ground, before finding herself completely defeated in the middle of the room. "Maybe it's for the best," she tried to rationalize, "maybe this guy was a true creep!"

As soon as she said this, she heard a sound from the hall. She felt all the muscles within that body of hers tense up, and like a deer caught in the headlights, she stood frozen in fear. She didn't exactly know what to do, and with the current condition of the house, there were many places to hide, but none were anywhere close to being sanitary. Even if they were, she knew that moving was just out of the question right about now; a bad fate she may experience, but what else was she to expect? She wandered into the house, and now she was to pay the ultimate price.

However, after waiting for a few minutes, she realized that no one was coming anytime soon, even with the sound becoming constant. She didn't exactly know what to do, but standing still in fear was definitely not helping anybody. Against her better judgment, she decided to check the hallway once more, ignoring the chance at using the window to escape. Perhaps it was some sort of sick curiosity on her part, or maybe she wanted an answer for all of this.

"H-Hello? Anyone there?"

She looked outside, checking the pathway to the kitchen, though she never saw a single living thing. Not even a random rat showed itself to her; unless the person tripped, she was still alone in that regard.

But then she turned to look at the other doors, and it seemed that another light seeped through the door on the right. It had the same shade as the room she resided in, though it appeared even more dirty, if that was even possible. "What...is someone there? Hello!"

She kept calling out, hoping to hear some sort of reply, but no matter what she did, she never got an answer back. She even picked up a discarded brick and threw it at the wall, hoping that it would cause the sound to stop, but it sadly did not. "What is going on in that room? Did...did my ball wind up in there?"

That really made her worry, but because it was a possibility, she had no other choice but to investigate. She still believed in herself in not leaving it behind, so she slowly crept forward, wondering if any reaction will occur. Every step she took made the floorboards echo with wonder, though they all sounded so empty and lifeless, as if there was nothing to their design. She didn't even feel drawn this time, but she had to keep going; a simply prayer that her ball was within that room was all she needed to persue.

With a stutter in her steps, she smacked the door open as hard as she could; no real reason, really, though she hoped it would cause something to occur. However, when she got a good look at the room, she felt herself crumble inside.

It was a bathroom, completely dirty like the others. Everywhere you can look was wither slime, dirt, or some other substances no one should ever discover. A tiny window was near the ceiling, the shape of a moon allowing some light to seep through. A broken tub lay at the side, with a gigantic wheel nestled inside, a rope still attached around it. The rest of the room was unfortunately unviewable, for Wyn could only gaze at the sick sight before her.

There was a man, well in his years, dressed in a rather hefty sweater for today's weather. His clothing was clean, though had the unkempt style most elderly tend to have when their time was coming to an end. He was bald, and had a face that showed a lifelong style of fatigue and regret. He was portly, age doing no favors for his weight. He was taller than most his age, though that didn't appear to help him in the long run, considering how his knees appeared buckled underneath the intense pressure.

He was suspended in the middle of the air, his eyes closed and his mouth agape. A rope, similar to the one on that wheel, was wrapped around his neck like a scarf for the winter. It was wrapped around a pipe on the ceiling; a makeshift noose, a perfect for his weary life.

"No!"

Wyn immediately grabbed the old man, trying her best to support his weight on her shoulders, hoping to be the ground his body desperately tried to find. She felt the tears coming down as she struggled with her useless task. She tried to get under his fee, hoping that by some miracle, she would be enough to count as the discarded box near the side of the room. He still looked very much alive, so maybe there was hope in saving him.

But alas, her sudden movement caused the rope to fail, and she soon found the old man falling on top of her. She nearly suffocated under his powerful weight, and she had to push him off with all of her might, in the hopes that she could actually survive. Once she did, she took another breath, and began to shake him. "Please, please, please be okay! Please!"

She did everything she could, but the moment she placed a hand on his neck, she knew it to be futile. It was not too long ago, probably even done when she first arrived in the house, but the man was no more. Whatever life he lived, whatever he once was, it didn't matter anymore; he was dead, discarded like the rest of the rooms of this house. Just another tragedy in this hovel that was once full of life.

When she realized this, she sat down next to the tub, huddled her knees up to her head, and allowed her sorrow to be expressed. She didn't care about where her ball was or why she was neglected in all of those fan things; she could only now see a life that was lost, and she was too slow to stop it from happening. She slammed her fist into the ground, and she even let a swear out of those normally pure lips. "Why why why! Dammit, why!"

She felt so horrible, and she allowed the sadness to stay with her for quite some time. She allowed the hours and the time to just float on; she even pulled the old man close, trying her best to hug him. Perhaps if he was hugged sooner, he wouldn't choose such a dark end to his life.

As she cried, she noticed something on his back. A note, taped hastily over that sweater, was calling to her with its faded look and jaded writing. She wiped the tears from her eyes, her sadness switching now to her head towards the fallen man, she grabbed the paper off of him, managing to peel off the tape with it. Some dust fell off it, and brushing off the rest, she could see that it was written rather hastily, as if he was rushed to do this horrid deed. It tried to be done in cursive, but his either his style failed it, or he forgot how to write certain words in that way.

She sighed, and read the whole thing:

"GONE, FORGOTTEN, I'M SORRY

THIS WORLD….IT'S FORGOTTEN TOO

MY HEROES, ALL WILL BE GONE LIKE ME

DOES A WORLD HAVE A TIME LIMIT? WILL IT END ONE DAY?

WILL THESE CHARACTERS I LOVE JUST VANISH LIKE THAT?

I REMEMBER THE SOCCER GIRL, AND YET I CAN'T REMEMBER HER NAME!

I KNOW IT WILL ALL END ONE DAY

I DON'T WANT TO BE ALIVE WHEN IT DOES

I'M SORRY."

"W-What?"

She was left even more confused now, scratching her head in utter disbelief. What the heck did this all mean? She looked over at the fallen man, and back at the note. What in the world did she just encounter in this house, and why? A man was dead, his house completely in disarray, forgotten underneath the seats and stands of the arena. She was probably the first person who had ever seen the man, and that made her feel somewhat empty inside. She had no real concrete answers over anything, and whatever answers she received were most certainly not the ones anyone wanted to actually hear.

Slowly, she stood, trying her best to pick the man up, but knowing how dirty and desolate the house was, she knew that leaving him here for now was the best bet. She would just have to tell someone about him, accepting the fate of getting in trouble; that simply meant nothing over the death of an old life. She bowed her head in respect to the old man, and slowly left the bathroom, leaving the door open just in case he decided to come back alive; impossible, but she wanted to believe.

All the while she held that note as tight as she could, hoping to one day understand truly what he meant. It was clear that he was depressed over anything else, but half of it was written about some strange question that no one in their right mind could answer truthfully. Was he just so damn mad that he lost his way, or perhaps he ran out of that thing known as hope, and his questions just lead to his end? It was all confusing to her, and having never experienced something like this before, she had no idea how to take it all in.

Why did he know all of them, though? Better yet, why couldn't he remember Wyn? Just who was he, and why did he have all of those things in that room? Where could he have gotten all of them in the first place? Did he make them himself? She felt flattered that he considered all of them his heroes, but it still hurt to question what on Gamarket happened within his mind. She didn't even really care about not being mentioned anymore; she just wondered what caused her to be the one mentioned in his note.

She could muse over all this until the sun sets, and she will never arrive at an answer. Weirdly, the more she thought about this, the more she began to feel completely empty inside. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep for the rest of her life. "It'll go away, Wyn. I still can't believe I saw that."

She crawled over everything in her way, without even so much as a frown. She went through the kitchen, dodged the stuff in the living room, and went straight out the door. She looked forward the whole time, barely even blinking as she went through the passageway in the wall. Her soccerball, the whole reason why she went in there in the first place, rested within one of the petunia bushes, forgotten by her in the end.

She walked down the pathway towards the field. She knew she didn't have a ball, and in some part of her mind, that meant she had to leave; no other reason to stay, right? She looked all around the place, but unfortunately she found no living soul in the rafters. She had to leave the whole place until she found the person she desired. With another sigh, she escaped through the ticket area, hoping to return soon.

The arena found himself alone again, though he knew people would come back one day. The sky above began to release rain once more, the ground becoming wetter and wetter. Even during that moment, the stadium felt lonelier than ever.

Eventually, the man was found and taken away, but Wyn never returned. She never grabbed that soccer ball of hers or brought a new one for him to enjoy. She just never showed up ever since that day, which made the arena sad. There was a game soon after that incident, but it felt emptier than usual. Soon, newspapers began airing how a body was found within it, and it gained notoriety. Many of the scheduled games were either canceled or moved to a neighboring stadium.

He hoped that all of this would end soon, but sadly the owner of the arena gave up on it, and soon not even the custodians came to fix him up. He was now alone again, and it seemed that he will always be alone. He even heard that the owner was going to make a new arena, and tear this one down. It made the stadium tired and sad, like an abused child that stood no chance in the world yonder. He will be torn down and forgotten about as the years rolled on.

Alone. Alone and forgotten. What a sad fate for him. What a sad fate for Wyn's ball. What a sad fate for the man. What a sad fate indeed.

END