Doodles used to fill up her notebooks, page after page of random drawings.In the early ones all sorts of subjects were displayed in those pages; from her friends, to her petpets, to different items. But later, one thing stood prominent, an island bori. Tons of drawings were of a gorgeous bori with intricate designs on the shell and body. For that had been her fondest dream, to go off to Mystery Island and live with the natives. The only other dream that came close to the magnitude of that dream was her dream to become an artist.

Everyday, all she talked about was how she would go to Mystery Island. Not just the tourist places that everyone goes too, but the real deep Mystery Island; the place that only the natives saw, where the savages lay.

I don't think she understood the ramifications of that dream. No, I know she didn't. After one report on Mystery Island when we were kids and she had fallen in love with it. I don't blame her though, it is a great place. But her obsession took over everything else. Before this report, for the report was the starting place, her dream was to be an artist, but that all changed.

"I can't believe we have to do these horridly long reports on each of the worlds in Neopia. Which one did you get Trist?" asked Alise.

"The Lost Desert, what about you?"

"Hmm, Mystery Island, at least it's not Meridell, can you imagine how long that one would be?"

We both thought these reports would be horrible, but they turned out to be okay. Our class had been small, and so each of us had our own world to do. When it was her turn to present, anyone with eyes and ears could hear the passion in her voice and see the sparkle in her eyes as she rambled on and one about the history of Mystery Island. She ended her report with a declaration that one day she would move there.

Now that I think about it, I almost wish her report had been about Meridell. Even if she had fallen passionately in love with Meridell, the way she did with Mystery Island, the result would have been extremely different.

We all thought it was just some little kid's fantasy of course; everyone wanted to go someplace exotic. We all made grand proclamations like that, but as the rest of us grew up and began worrying and fantasizing about different things, she clung to this one dream.

Her love for that exotic place never died, but after awhile she stopped mentioning it every two seconds. And then one day a few years later, our class took a trip to Mystery Island. If you had seen the way her eyes lit up the moment they spotted the small island, you would have immediately known that her love of the place had not diminished at all.

On that trip alone, she tried to run away three separate times.

"Trist, this is where I belong. Not in Neopia Central. I need to be out in the jungle, among the islander. Can't you see that?"

"I know this is your dream, but you can't stay here. Besides that fact you have to finish school, you don't even look like an islander."

After that trip she was banned from other class trips off of Neopia Central. It was harsh, and she complained endlessly, but the teacher couldn't just have students trying to run away during the trips. Of course she got over it. And she began looking for a solution to the major flaw in her plan to move to Mystery Island' her appearance.

For she was a plain yellow bori, and she hated that fact.

"They just don't have plain yellow pets on Mystery Island."

"Darling, they don't have bori's on Mystery Island. Remember, you're from Terror Mountain. Besides, couldn't you just make yourself into an island bori if you really wanted too? I mean you're the only bori who's crazy enough to want to live on Mystery Island."

I need to learn to keep my mouth shut. She latched onto the idea and decided she would make herself into an island bori. The pictures that used to fill up her sketch book were replaced with designs for an island bori. She had to get everything perfect, the designs for the shell, the accessories, everything. I took her ages, one thing I'm grateful for.

When she was finally done, we were in our last year of school. Everything was planned for us. I was going to go off for more schooling because I wanted to run a business. She was going to try and find work as an artist. At least that's what everyone thought. Then, on the last night she came up to me.

"Come with me."

"Where?"

"I want you to be with me when I get this done."

She had saved up enough NP's to get her whole body tattooed. The white designs for an island bori that she had been planning for years were going to be used. I freaked out of course, tried to persuader her not to do it. But she didn't listen to me. She never did.

Hours later she was done. I was an almost complete transformation. She was no longer a boring yellow bori, but an exotic one. However, despite the tattoos and the accessories, she was still a yellow bori underneath.

"I couldn't figure out a way to hide that part."

"I'm glad, then I'll always know it's still you underneath."

I accompanied her to Mystery Island. It was the least I could do as her best friend. We talked the whole way, about the past, about our plans. She still wanted to be an artist, just on Mystery Island, nowhere else. She was running into this blind, I could tell. Sure she knew a ton about the place, but it didn't change the fact that she was still raised in the middle of Neopia Central.

"Will you be able to last? Do you know how to survive?"

"I'll manage."

She got off the boat when we docked. I hugged her goodbye. And then she was gone. To be free, I suppose, what else could it be? Was she really that chained in Neopia Central? Was it me?

I ponder these questions whenever I think about her. It's been years now. At first I would try and visit as often as I could. And she was appreciative at first, especially when the natives were still wary of her. But then it changed, as things often did when dealing with her.

"Trist, I hate to ask this, but can you not visit for awhile."

"What?"

"Well, it's just that they are finally beginning to accept me, and I don't want anything to mess it up. The other day I was asked to come to the inner clans. You know how important that is."

"You don't want to see me anymore."

"It's not that at all, it's just...I can't see you anymore."

"Fine, I need to work on the shop some more anyways I'll see you around."

Apparently they accepted her into their society. She is now hailed as the first island bori. I don't know what she did to be fully accepted. I never heard from her after that night.

I've only had one piece of news about her. In all the years she's been gone I've only heard one thing. The news came a few weeks ago, and I had to hear it via a column dealing with Mystery Island in the Neopian Times.

The excavation of the Lost City of Geraptiku has been halted due to the tragic loss of part of the excavation crew. Included in those that were lost... and Alise, the first island bori. We offer our condolences to family and friends. The services will be held on the 30th day of the month of Hiding.

That's it. A little newspaper column alerted me to the fact that my childhood best friend was gone. Maybe she was still alive, maybe not. But now any chance of me seeing her again is lost as well. She cut me out of her life a long time ago; it's only fair that I finally cut her out of mine. No more looking at old notebooks. No more reminiscing about the good old days. I will say goodbye, it's only polite. And then my life will move on.