Hey everyone! Sorry to readers of Fire and Ice for the deletion. I wanted to know that I could actually finish it first. Plus, Memoirs of a Somebody is such a catchier title, don't you think? Anyway, enjoy!
- Panther
I will never forget the day my best friend disappeared. I will never forget the day my heart did not rip in two, this saying being reserved for lovers, but left my body all together. Ale and I had known each other for as long as I can remember, self-proclaimed Best Friends for Life. The teardrop tattoos under his eyes (or at least the money to pay for them) had been a birthday present from me. As kids, it was said that we were like a completed set. His hair fiery red and eyes emerald green and my hair ice blue with onyx black eyes. Nuana and Ale, BFFs. Even at a young age Ale had pyromania; setting fire to his mother's garden, even once setting his own head alight.
It was all so sudden really. Ale's mother, his only blood family, had been killed in a random act of violence about two weeks before he disappeared. Everyone had their theories: he left to avenge his mother's death, he joined a gang and left town, he had been killed. Even though it was painful to consider it, I thought the later was most likely since he never even came to say goodbye.
Once I reached the appropriate age, I planned to follow my childhood dreams and travel the world. Over the three years that had past, the wounds formed by Ale's disappearance had started to heal. Therefore using my new freedom for a wild goose chase was the farthest thing from my mind.
That is of course until I had the dream. You see I don't dream often, but when I do the fantasy usually becomes reality. In that particular dream, I found myself walking through the streets of a town I did not recognize. All around me, people were enjoying a festival. Children ran past, balloons flailing like leashed puppies behind their masters. Vendors advertised hot food, sugary treats and souvenirs. Soon I came to an open plaza. An immense decoration on a wall caught my eye, a two-faced clown's head that gazed blankly down on the passing crowd below. At once I knew where and when I was. Every year Twilight Town held a festival celebrating the cycle of life and death. The two-faced jester was the official mascot of the gala. As I took in my surroundings, my eyes rested on a tall, lanky figure standing in the light. It was cloaked in a hooded black robe, standing directly beneath the clown. Slowly the figure turned to me. I could not see the face hidden within the shadows of the hood save for two bright green eyes and teardrop tattoos.
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As soon as I awoke, I knew what I had to do. Since there was no evidence of a specific day in the vision, I would have to wait in the square until he came. The festival began in three days time so I gathered my belongings and caught the nearest transport to Twilight Town. I booked a room in a cheap hotel for the entirety of the festival with the promise of a refund from the manager should I choose to leave early.
My accommodations were scant, consisting of a single bed, a small chest-of-drawers, a table and a mini-fridge. After settling in, I strolled around Twilight Townwith the other pre-festival tourists. Throughout the day I passed the large clock tower and watched a ball game. I don't quite remember what it was called but it had consisted of two people collecting rubber balls and beating each other with paddles. In my opinion it was a completely pointless use of one's time.
The next day heralded the beginning of the festival. First thing in the morning, I found a spot on a bench from which I had a full view of the area beneath the giant clown. The day before, I had stocked up on a week's worth of non-perishable food so I would not have to leave my spot for more than a few minutes during the day. I bought a blue ice-cream pop from a nearby vendor and sat down to begin my stakeout.
The next three days passed like the first. I would claim my bench early in the morning, wait, stare, ask passers-by if they had seen a skinny man in a black cloak; eat, wait and return to the hotel at nightfall. My dream had distinctly taken place in the day so I knew there would be no point in waiting for twenty-four hours.
Finally, on the fourth day, my diligence paid off. Around late afternoon, the black cloak from my dream materialized out off the shadows of an ally off the plaza. The figure sauntered into the light, coming to a stop beneath the two-faced clown. My first instinct was to charge forward and tackle the person from behind, but I decided against it. The last thing I wanted was to scare them off, making my efforts virtually futile. Instead I watched, waiting for the figure to make the first move. At first, my quarry simply turned its head around, as if taking in the scene. Soon though, as if they were confident in not being watched, hands reached up to remove the concealing hood. I inhaled sharply, a gasp catching in my throat. There before me, red hair, tattoos and all, was Ale.