Chapter Twelve: Confidence

Ashley sat up with a start, her head whipping immediately to the window. It took a while for her breathing to return to normal. She clutched her stuffed bunny close, trying to forget the images that wouldn't stop flitting through her head.

She jumped at a sharp noise outside her door. A glance at her bedside clock revealed in glowing digital red numbers that it was nearly three in the morning. She looked nervously around at the door, seeing the pitch-black hallway looming behind it in her mind's eye. Normally she wasn't one of those people who was afraid of the dark—honestly, she wasn't—but she hadn't lived in this house all that long, and she wasn't used to nighttime here. It was obvious that this house hadn't been furnished with children in mind. There wasn't even a sliver of light on in the hallway.

Clang! The strange noise persisted.

In spite of herself, Ashley was curious. Old houses made all sorts of sounds, but the house of Wario Ware was as new and technologically advanced as could be. Some part of her mind, a natural child's overactive imagination combined with a horror novel aficionado's love of the grotesque and macabre, feared ghouls and monsters. But another part of her snapped that there was a logical reason behind that troubling noise.

She kicked off her covers and summoned her courage, gripping the bunny in her fist. Slowly she eased her way down the dark hallway, feeling in front of her tentatively before taking each step in case of unseen obstacles.

The source of the racket came from behind a closed door that Ashley thought she remembered was a guest room from the cursory "tour" Wario had given when she had come to live here in his residence. In any case, she saw a sliver of light under the door and couldn't help the feeling of relief the break in the darkness lit inside of her. It almost dissipated her apprehension of finding out what was making that sound.

She took a deep breath as she turned the knob and then, squeezing her eyes shut, pushed the door open. Nothing happened for a long moment, so Ashley opened her eyes. Then they widened, and she dropped her bunny, forgetting to feel afraid.

The walls were covered from top to bottom with intricate blueprints…of what, Ashley could only begin to guess. But she could tell that she was looking at an original invention, one which had never been created, something grand, something that must have been conceived by no less than a scientific and mathematical genius…

And then she looked up. And her eyes met Mona's.

For a second, they just stared at each other: the girl in her simple shift with a stuffed rabbit at her bare feet and the woman in a makeshift harness connected to the ceiling, wielding a paintbrush and sporting blue splotches on her face.

Mona tried to move and the harness complained loudly in a creak again. Finally she smiled at Ashley. "What are you doing up so late?"

Ashley was still staring. It looked like Mona had fixed a chain of thin wire, possibly from hangers, to the smoke detector on the ceiling and then made a seat for herself using various fabrics—from blankets, from curtains, even from some of her own clothes. And she was using this harness to paint on the ceiling to finish the blueprint. Beside Mona's harness was a second smaller one carrying a pail which was presumably full of blue paint.

"You know," Ashley said, "the point of a blueprint is to design something on a lower scale."

Mona dropped her paintbrush into the pail beside her, loosened the fabric from the wire so that her seat was deconstructed, and carefully climbed down the rope that resulted. Presently she found herself in front of Ashley.

Ashley had her hands on her hips, trying to process this strange woman-child and her late-night antics. She had so many questions, so many things she wanted to say, but somehow it seemed too absurd to talk about this rather unique situation aloud. She ended up saying lamely, "You woke me up."

"Sorry!" Mona was quick to apologize. "No one's ever woken up before, but then again, this is the first time I've used the ceiling." She sighed, looking up at her incomplete painting. "I still don't think that'll be enough room, but I still have the floor."

Ashley was still in awe. As scornful as she felt toward Mona, there was no denying her resourcefulness. And the designs Mona had painted were so intricate and carefully crafted. She had skill with a brush. In addition, she was more subdued than usual, making her tolerable.

Mona yawned, rubbing at dark circles under her eyes. Which explained the uncharacteristic quiet. How long had she been working on this? Ashley couldn't even begin to hazard a guess.

"I'm about done for now anyway," Mona said. "Again, sorry to have woken you. Anything I can get you before we both go back to bed?"

Ashley picked her bunny up and looked up at Mona. "I don't think I'm going to be able to get back to sleep," she said plainly. "I rarely do when I wake up at night."

"Really?" Mona's response was dull. She looked toward the door, obviously wanting nothing less than another caustic conversation. "I—I'm sorry, really, but maybe you could at least try to get some sleep?"

Ashley bit her lip. "Actually, I was wondering, could I—could we, maybe, drink some hot chocolate together?"

Mona was stunned out of her lethargy. She nodded slowly, wiping her hands on slacks. "Sure. That would be—yes," she stammered, already starting to lead the way to the kitchen.

Ashley took a seat on a stool as she watched Mona bustle around, preparing the drinks. She was surprised that Mona wasn't chattering away while she was at it. For a while, Ashley soaked in the silence. She loved that special silence that only occurred at the dead of night, when the world was sleeping and everyone was secluded. It felt as Ashley imagined a world before society had felt. Beautiful.

And, of course, the best secrets were revealed in the dead of night, whispered, behind closed doors. At least, that's the way it always went in her novels. She swung her legs back and forth, and finally spoke up. "That thing you were painting, it seemed really complicated."

"Hm," Mona answered noncommittally.

Ashley frowned. "I liked it," she said. "I didn't understand it, but I liked it. Or I think I did."

Mona turned around to face Ashley, her jaw slack. Then she grinned, and finally looked like herself again. She simply nodded her thanks after a moment, and then turned back around to finish what she was doing.

For her part, Ashley was starting to reassess Mona. She could do more than just create garish eyesores, that was for sure. And she had agreed to make hot chocolate despite how tired she appeared, so there was that. Ashley didn't know why, but somehow she found herself asking, "What exactly is Wario to you? I never really asked."

Mona brought over two steaming mugs, handing one down to Ashley and sitting on the floor beside her. "Be careful, it's hot," she warned, blowing on her own cup.

Ashley rolled her eyes. "I know that." She waited, almost more interested in Mona's answer than in her chocolate.

"Well," Mona said, avoiding Ashley's eyes, "he's my boss."

How anticlimactic. Ashley stared into her cup, disappointed. "That's it?"

Mona's eyes flashed to her. "Well, what is he to you?" she asked, a defensive tone edging into her voice.

"My…caretaker. For the moment."

Mona smiled, knowingly. "And that's all?"

Ashley frowned, wanting to wipe that smirk off of Mona's face. Well, of course that wasn't all. He was also heir to The Ware-House, rich beyond belief without needing to work a day in his life, obsessive beyond belief when it came to the Marios and his conspiracy theory—a sad, spoiled, crazy individual if Ashley had ever known one, and a sorry replacement for the parents she had lost. And yet, he had taken her in when she had no one, had seen to it that her cat got to stay with her, had made sure she had everything she could ever want. He could be so kind. Sometimes he even seemed normal.

"I live with Wari because my parents kicked me out of the house," Mona explained, taking a sip and making a face. "Ugh. Burned my tongue."

Ashley nearly choked. That was the way Mona operated, springing something like that nonchalantly. "I didn't know that!"

Mona glanced over, raising an eyebrow at Ashley's sudden rapt attention. She honestly looked as if she couldn't tell what had caused such surprise. "Well, it's true. I wanted to work as an engineer at The Ware-House, but Mama didn't approve. She thinks it has a dangerous monopoly, too much bearing in politics and things like that. And her opinion of Wari is less than favorable. Papa didn't care too much about all that, but he said he was sad to see me wasting my artistic talent by not pursuing a career as a painter."

Ashley took a quick sip, mulling that over. Mona's mother seemed almost as bad as the man she despised; whereas Wario was paranoid that the Marios had too much power and would take over the world with it, Mona's mother thought that Wario himself was overpowered and had big plans of worldwide dominance.

The craziest part about it was, both loons were right.

"You know," said Ashley, "with most people, that situation is reversed. Parents discourage their children from trying to make a living as an artist. And they look well on high-paying jobs like engineering for the wealthiest company in the world."

She didn't say how impressed she was that Mona apparently had a résumé impressive enough to earn her a job in that particular corporation. It was common knowledge that they only hired the best of the best.

"No wonder you grew up backward," Ashley continued, shaking her head.

Mona chuckled. The warm drink seemed to have revitalized her some. "Backward, huh? That just might be true." Her shoulders relaxed and she stretched out her legs, contented. "It was a surprise when you offered to talk. We really haven't done that much since you've been here. Have we?"

Rather than answer, Ashley fiddled with her hair. She took a deep breath and then blurted out, "You didn't wake me up."

"Beg pardon?" Mona tilted her head.

"It was a dream. Or…or, a memory, I don't know. I heard glass breaking. I thought it was the window—" Ashley was aware by now she was babbling, and she prided herself on her unruffled demeanor, so she stopped and tried to gather her thoughts. But they were muddled, unrelated concepts zigzagging their way through her brain.

Art. Silence. Parents. Darkness. Lost. And always the ostensibly playful tinkling that heralded the shattering of glass. The loudest sound followed by the loudest silence. And then, for some reason, all she could think about was blue. How very blue that painted guest room had been. She tried to speak but her tongue felt thick. Maybe she was going to nod off after all. She must've been more tired than she thought.

She looked at Mona, but her features were blurred. Her normally bright blue eyes looked back. Blue, she thought, was a deceptive color.

"Sorry," she vaguely heard Mona say, but she didn't sound sorry at all, or like Mona. "I had to do it. Maybe this'll teach you not to go poking your nose where it doesn't belong."

And then the whole world was blue.

Before it faded to black.