The Meaning Of Life
Hi, guys. Cierra here. As you may have inferred from the title, this story is a bit of an insight on the meaning of life. For those of you who hate morals, don't worry: I'm not going to come right out and say "The meaning of life is..." because that would be boring. You may actually not get the same idea from this story as someone else. It all depends on which life you are living, I guess. Some of you may also point out that this is quite a serious message to be conveyed by cartoon characters. But I think that's the point: we need someone who doesn't take life seriously to tell us about life, because then we know that it's true.
This story was inspired by the idea of people who give something small and insignifcant when it really means more than the world. You will notice that is very dream-like: I don't even say the names of the main characters (though you'll know who they are). You will also notice that it's in sort of an alternate universe: none of the gang know each other when this story takes place.
Another thing: at first one of the main characters was going to be Daphne, until some people pointed out that she isn't very in character (thank you for letting me know and helping me to improve my writing). So, just picture the girl as whichever Mystery Incorporated girl you want, and you're all set!
Okay, I'm not going to say anymore, because I really don't want to give anything away, but enjoy! I hope it leaves you thinking, and please tell me what you thought. I am very interested in what you think of this.
For a small fourteen year old living in Coolsville, Ohio, friendship was a foreign concept. To the girl, it was more mythical than unicorns and fairies and pots of gold at the end of the rainbow. The only thing that was more out of reach then friendship was true love, and even then it was a close tie.
As a toddler, the girl had watched Cinderella and Snow White and Sleeping Beauty make all their dreams come true - with the help of their friends. Of course, all their friends were animals, which is maybe why the girl didn't know friendship - she'd never really gotten close to an animal. Her parents weren't interested in pets, and most of the animals the girl had seen were in captivity, and she bet they were in captivity for a reason.
Younger years were okay. The girl could handle third grade friendships, when her biggest fights were over crayons and dolls and stuffed animals. Until fourth grade, the girl was happy.
And then came the day when the girl heard her friends talking about her behind her back, saying things that made the girl take long looks at herself in the mirror when she got home, trying to find anything good. The girl had been shocked and hurt. She never felt truly comfortable around them again, and they grew apart quickly.
The girl struggled to make friends. She was a charismatic person, but rumors can destroy even the most friendly person. The girl shrank back, and by sixth grade, she was just an observer. Merely a wall hanging. She doubted anyone knew she existed. And she was very nearly right.
One summer evening, the girl was sitting outside on the steps of the library. Her father was supposed to pick her up, but the girl doubted her would be coming.
She heard a sigh next to her and looked over to see a large dog, holding a hot dog with his paws. The girl thought it was strange, but she had seen stranger things before, so she was not worried.
The dog looked up, and noticed the girl for the first time. "Rello," the dog said.
The girl felt a queer feeling rush through her, and realized it was the first time in a long time that someone had noticed her. Even though it was a dog, the girl smiled. "Hi."
"Rhy rare rou ritting rere?" the dog asked. He did not understand. This girl surely belonged to someone. She didn't look like the kind of girl who doesn't get adopted at adoption fairs or who bit possible owners when they tried to pet them. It didn't make sense for her to be alone.
The girl didn't understand the dog's strange way of talking (she didn't actually understand why he was talking in the first place, but it was the first conversation she'd had in a long time, so she wasn't picky) but she assumed he wanted an explanation. "I was doing some research and I'm just waiting for my dad to pick me up."
"Rut rit's rummer!" The dog protested.
"I know but… well, I was looking up high school. I'm starting it next week, and I'm really scared," the girl admitted. She took a deep breath. The fact that she needed to look up advice about high school at the library, instead of just asking someone, explained her predictiment.
"Ry rerson ris rarting righ rool! Re ran re rour riend!" The dog cried in excitement. He hoped his person would be nice to the girl. The girl seemed sad, and the dog thought she needed a friend from her own species. Dogs only have one friend; their person. It was a dog rule. It must be followed.
"Well, maybe I'll see your person around," the girl said, not even noticing that she understood the dog.
The dog cocked his head and studied the girl. "Rhy rare rou ro rad?" he asked impulsively.
The girl was surprised by the question. "Well," she said hesitantly. "I really don't have any friends. And I think high school will be even worse."
The dog made a decision then. "Ri'm rour riend." Dogs would understand. This girl needed someone, no matter what species they were.
The girl smiled what felt like the first real smile she'd ever smiled. "Really?"
"Res. Rould rou rike rome rot rog?" the dog asked patiently.
The girl blinked and laughed a little, trying to make sense of the sudden wetness in her eyes. "You know what? Sure."
The dog broke off a piece of hot dog and handed it to the girl. They sat in silence, but it was nice silence. The kind of silence that feels like the comfort people used to find in their blankies. The blankies they threw away because they thought they needed to grow up. Throwing away those blankies was what messed up this world in the first place, the girl observed to herself.
After a moment, the dog remembered his person. His person would be waiting for him at home. They were going to turn on scary movies and hide under the blankets until they were over. The dog had only meant to go into town to get a hot dog - scary movie time was fun. The dog sighed and stood up. "Rood-rye," he said.
The girl was not too bothered by the good-bye. She felt safe, and she was certain she'd be able to find this dog's owner. After all, the dog was a talking one, and any story is a good story during high school. "Bye. I'll talk to your person."
The dog nodded seriously. "Rou'll re riends, Ri ret. Rike rou rand re." Then the dog trotted down the library steps and down this street, his tail wagging good-naturedly.
The girl's father never came to pick her up, but the girl did not mind. She walked home, under the summer sun.