Whooo. Okay, that was the only dark chapter in the story. I absolutely hate going off track with characters that are expected to have a so and so personality oo;; This is going to be the last slow chapter, so don't worry It's all goody good and such and the real story past this . .

Goddess of Unfinished Projects: oo Wow, that is a coincedence. Wait a sec, you wrote Thread and Needle! I LOVE that story so much! When I began reading it, I almost stopped writing this fic because it made me think I was going WAY too close to yours:O WOW. I luff it so much! You're so my inspiration to keep writing.

AJ Wonkette: Thank you for liking the story and agreeing with me :D Awww, I love Mini-Simon!

Swallowed up in the sound of my screaming
Cannot cease for the fear of silent night
Oh, how I long for the deep sleep dreaming
The goddess of imaginary light...

Evanescence - Imaginary

There was a steady pounding outside of the court, one that purged through to her ears as she dribbled the ball about in her paws. The music thudded dully, but extravagantly around her through the loudspeakers, blocking any obnoxious comment the DJ or spokesperson may of contributed to the scene. More feet thudded about the maple boards of their seats. The constant rhythm made her want to travel for once, at least to dull into the rhythm of their clapping, their stomping, their shouts and their taunts. One pass to her fellows gained one pass back, but three feet farther then where she had passed. A repeat, but this time an obstacle faced her, and her neurons fired messages through the axons faster, registering a tactic as she spun, the ball flying from her paws, but still keeping a steady rhythm as it returned to them. She passed again, ridiculing her own mind for pulling off an amateur scenario, but put it off as the ball came back to her, as if magnatized to the very metallic claws that stretched from the glove. She stopped at the line, the line that seperated and cut the court into multi-sections, twisting and curling like a viper throughout the wood. Pressing upwards, the ball balanced into one yellow and orange striped glove, and with a shove of momentum the claws raked across the ends of the ball, sending it sailing.

One second, two second, three second, four second, five. One two three four five, and the ball landed, safely in the spider-drawn net, held on merely by the orange ring that held it wide, ready for arrival. It slid through, flowing like a dolphin in water, before dropping with a thud to the hardwood floor, carrying behind it a shower of confetti, popcorn, peanuts, flags; but most the cheers and boos of allies and foes as they stood, stomping out the final buzzer, marking the end of the game. She sighed heavily, spitting out the breath that seemed to have caught in her throat throughout the whole game. Her team cheered about her, and she kept still, clapping every so often with them, chanting out their words of enthuasism. The throng carried on, impatiently screaming for her and the team, for the other captain and their team, for autographs and basketballs and jerseys and flags. She breathed steadily, the only thing forcing her to do so faster was her beating heart, the adrenaline finally dying down. After clapping again with her team, she turned and headed back towards the locker room, recieving but a glare from the coach on the sidelines, before her tail swished out of sight.

Inside of the locker room, her ears rang with the after-effect of music and fans as she passed by the glass cases, reflecting the past in gold, silver, ribbons and even dirty balls. She stepped up the stairs, and raked her claws across the navy blue lockers, her eyes closed as she past her fellow teammates' belongings, finally coming to a close on hers. It was slightly ajar, her duffle bag peeking out of it, waiting for release. Her ears tilted back as she raised her eyebrow, and whipped the door open with one slash; only to have it whip back and crush the bag with a clang. Behind the locker door, the reason for it's backlash, was a minor heavyset, a whistle about his neck, and a nasty tone about his person. He smugly glared towards her, scratching his back for the passive itch that infected him for the past few hours, the result of poison ivy in his outdoor treks. She was as bored as she was annoyed towards this man, her coach, and tonight was just a reminder of the previous. He was a determined bastard, but nonetheless, it wrecked her nervous system after every game, knowing he was only here to scorn at her 'disability' to work. Basketball had become work to him, and a business in which would bring in much of the green. Both of envy, and of paper. His best employee however, was she, and she was losing her 'touch' of work, according to him.

"You completely missed the pass in the first half. Do you know how much money that small slip up cost me? And what was that travelling on the court when you were faced with Jonas? And Michael? Honestly, you are lucky the damn referee didn't penalize you. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I was thinking along the lines of 'I'm human', therefore I make mistakes. You're lucky I didn't fall completely thanks to that fool who claims he can rebound." She tugged her duffle bag from the locker, shoving in her jersey, and freeing her hair from the tight tail created by rubber bands. It was short enough to remain off her neck, but she continued to wrap it back due to the massive amount she almost swallowed during her past games. He narrowed his eyes dangerously at her, a fist clenching at his side.

"You need to quit being a smart ass. It's going to get you hurt one of these days."
"You need to quit being a jack ass. It's going to get you fired one of these days."
"Teff, You think I give a damn if I get fired? Of course not, because you wouldn't dare report your dear old coach."
"The one who for the...15th time I believe, got himself reported in Sports Illustrated for punching Michael in the jaw for properly disposing of Youlen's backshot?"
"Why the hell are you complaining about that? He shouldn't of fucking threw her forward and taken the ball."

"He could of done it and got a simple penalty. Instead, we got the penalty and you both wound up with broken jaws. Though I wish yours would of shattered." Silence issued, aside from the rustling of her shoes being tossed into her bag, before replacing the comforting fur of the cat boots. He growled, grabbing her chin and yanking it up to him.

"Look, I got you in here, and I can throw you out. I can just as easy start a rumor on you, and I would still be getting my mad cash, and you'd be wearing a mad hat. I don't give a damn what the hell you think anymore; you belong to me, and you will forever belong to me. Next game better be NOTHING like this game." She yanked her head away, tossing her duffel bag onto the bench.

"I shouldn't have to tell you this as much as you tell me to get my tail in gear, but honestly, grow some backbone. One of these days, I'm not going to be here, for whatever reason, who knows. Maybe I'll get in a car accident."

"You don't drive you dipshit."
"No, but I do walk across the street. But think about what will happen if your perfect little kitty just happens to flutter away."

"You know I can blackmail you. Imagine the hell you'd go through if everyone knew the truth." She glared at him, loathing his very existance. Suddenly, she stepped back, and ran her paws down the front of her, breathing in, then exhaling

"Well, that's all fine and good. But it's useless to blackmail someone who doesn't seem to exist anymore." Clenching his teeth, he raised his fist and swung heavily at her. She swerved on the spot, arching her back and grasping the handle of her duffel bag. As his fist flew by harmlessly, her back was turned, and she was heading out of the locker room.

"If you even think of leaving this town, let alone this building, don't expect me to save your ass when the truth is out!" He screamed.

"And please, don't expect me to save yours when they all wonder how you know!" She crooned heavily, the double doors slamming shut, and she whistled loudly to block his last words. Her padded feet bounced down the stairs, and she stopped, gazing at the trophies. Her eyes shot towards the double doors, but she knew he wouldn't start a commotion, especially when such a crowd was close by. Pushing open the glass doors, she opened her duffel bag and slipped in two of the logo balls from the shelf; then closed it right back up. They were her personal favorites, the colors a contrastive mix of blue and orange, satisfying any pair of eyes for hours. Zipping the duffel bag up, she stepped outside, the cold night air slowly evaporating the rain puddles that had fallen earlier during the game. She gazed up at the building, the lights still on in the court area, the cheers never dying out, other then the few families who were leaving early to catch a plane, eat dinner, or find whatever nourishment they could for the remainder of the night.

Teff tugged off the large yellow ears, the tail, the gloves, and the whiskers that adorned her body, shoving them into the end pockets of her bag. Many wouldn't look at her strange, but look at her in greed. She was known as the Rattlecat in the court, for she simply had a passion for cats and could rattle the court with cheers. It most likely began when she dressed up for a halloween game, but it caused such a delicious riot that many told her to keep the costume parts, and become both the mascot, and the main girl of the Cacophonies. Her other teammates were more then supportive, they were ecstatic. So much that they even started pet naming and petting her. Which was all fine, friends and family were two of the many things Teff adored being around. She sighed heavily, heading down the sidewalk towards nowhere in particular. In the distance, a bunch of kids laughed as they tossed a ball to each other. Looking up, she noticed a few imaginary friends with them, and smirked. She was too old for imaginary friends by now. She felt a light twinge of pity towards the kids, knowing that soon they'd have to live in the world she currently lived in...no longer the fun times for any of them. Teff tore her gaze away from them, continuing on, but stopped, looking back at them. She headed across the street, watching them closer. One of the friends waved to her, and the creator turned.

"Hey there! Want to play catch with us?" He grinned, looking up at her. She smiled and shook her head.

"No thanks dear, you've got your friend to play with," She knelt down to his level. The imaginary friend stopped, bouncing the soccer ball gracefully on his knees.

"The more the merrier, you know?"

"I'm too old for imaginary friends, really. Besides, I wrack my brain with too many things to have the ability to create one." The friend sat down beside her, still slightly towering over her. The boy jumped onto his lap, hugging the ball close.

"How come?"
"How come what?"
"How come you're so old?" She burst out laughing at his comment, but settled when he smiled, patiently waiting for an answer.
"Well, we all grow up. And we just keep getting tons of things on our daily list to fulfill. I personally don't have any time for imaginary friends."

"You could find time!" He tossed the ball back and forth. She looked at him, then up at the friend.

"I would if I could, my friend." The imaginary friend raised his eyebrow, looking her over.

"Well, that's a funny thing to say. How old are you?"
"Just turned seventeen the other day."

"Well, then that's a funny thing indeed to say!" He cried.

"Er...how exactly?"

"You're only seventeen. You've got lots of time in front of you to fill up. There has to be some place in there for an imaginary friend." Teff stared at him. "I mean, Justin's mother here enjoys having me around to help her out. You're never too old for a friend."

"But an imaginary friend, I am too old for."

"All friends are imaginary really. We all wish to have them, and sometime we have to say goodbye. Is there any real difference?" A female voice called out onto the street, causing them to all jump slightly. Justin leaped off of the friend's lap, and called back.

"Coming Mom!" He turned back. "It was nice talking to you, lady! I hope you come back! I want to see your imaginary friend!" He grinned and tugged at the friend's arm.

"Heh...Maybe, kid." She ruffled his hair, and looked up at the friend. "Thanks." The friend grinned.

"No problem!" Justin scurried off, tugging the friend after them, leaving Teff to stand watching until they disappeared into a lighted doorway, and then the light went out.

"All friends are imaginary, really." Teff absently put a finger into her hair, twirling pieces of it into strands that hung down in front of her face as she began walking towards the bus stop.

I'm standing on a bridge
I'm waiting in the dark
I thought that you'd be here, by now
There's nothing but the rain
No footsteps on the ground
I'm listening but there's no sound

A slight pattering reached her ears, calmly bringing her to reality as she stopped at the bench. Looking around, rain began to jump impatiently from the clouds onto the ground, covering the once light grey sidewalk with dark blotches of what reminded her of tears. She collapsed onto the bench, hanging onto her duffel bag numbly and digging in it for some change.

Isn't anyone trying to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home...

A huff accompanied the rhythm of rain as a blue tinted bus turned the corner, chugging its way to the stop, its headlights sagging tiredly from it's front, exhausted from the constant travel of the days before it. She pulled herself up to reach the doors, lugging the duffel bag. She felt as exhausted as the bus, being pushed forward only by the past promise of leaving town. She paid the driver, smiling gratefully, before slipping her way back towards the rear end. She had no care to have questions of her appearance or existance at this time, and quiet was all she needed. She slumped into a seat on the right, shoving the bag under it with no passion at all. Clicking out the light above her head, she spread herself across the seat, squirming until she found a comfortable spot with her shoulders being massaged gently by the sill of the window as it vibrated with motion of the bus.

It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won't you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new
I don't know who you are
But I...

I'm with you

Her eyes were half-lidded as she gazed across at the seat from hers. She had taken no notice before, but now Teff came to realize there was a figure in the seat, the light out like hers, but another light came from two flower-like bulbs placed on both of his shoulders. They were connected to large graceful butterfly-shaped wings, each of which were flattened back against the seat. His face was that of a dog's, his ears paper thin with scrolled designs of blue and black. His fur thicked out at his cheeks, which, if perhaps shown from the front, would of mistaken him as a tiger rather then a dog with butterfly wings. His arms were slightly unproportioned, thin and brittle, ending in large gaping claws that held the somewhat enormous tome to his eyes, which he was concentrating heavily on. She sat up, a slight amount of energy still twinkling somewhere in her head.

I'm looking for a place
Searching for a face
Is anybody here I know?

"Hey there." She leaned over her seat towards him, glancing at the title, Farenheit 451, slightly obscured by his massive claws. His ears pricked up first, before his eyes lifted from the page. They had a sort of sad solemn look to them, as if he would of loved to be anywhere but on the bus, if even in the town.

"...Hey..." His voice was soft, almost a whisper, and he glanced down at the book again. Teff thought the lighted bulbs on his shoulders started to dim, as if to hide him away from her.

"You're an imaginary friend, correct?" She smacked herself mentally for the most dumbest question in that category.

"...Yes."

"Is the driver your creator?" His ears drooped, his head shaking hesitantly. She quickly regretted her comments, and shut up.

"...No. My creator...erm..."
"I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"It's okay...really. I guess I should of expected it." Teff slid over to his seat, and he silently moved a wing away to fold with the other, the two bulbs still dimly lit.

"Is there a certain place you're going?"

"Well...someone told me about this home for imaginary friends. I was perhaps thinking of going there..." He closed his book with a bookmark, and looked towards her, the bulbs slowly starting to burn brighter. It was now that she noticed his tail. The fur split into three gigantic feathers, each vibrating in their own rainbow of colors.

Because nothing's going right
And everything's a mess
And no one likes to be alone

"Do you know how to get there? If you'd like, I could go with you." She put a hand on his shoulder. While she wasn't too experienced with imaginary friends, she found this one as sorry as she was. He looked at her, slightly shocked.

"Oh, no no. I really couldn't burden you with that...it's how I lost him..." He set his gaze at the ground. She smiled slightly.
"It's okay. I'm trying to get out of town myself. I don't mind helping you out. What's your name?"
"He never really gave me a name...I was sort of a spur of the moment thing..."

"Oh. Well then, do you mind if I name you?" He shook his head, his eyes sparkling slightly with tears. "Are you sure? You can name yourself, you know." He shook his head again.

"It's alright. I don't mind. I don't think I could come up with a name for myself." He looked at his claws, at his tail, then at the glow the bulbs produced. She ran a hand across the wings, feeling the velvet stretch across her fingers. Sliding them up the thin ends towards the bulb, she looked towards his tail.

"You know, I'm a spur of the moment thing myself." She smiled at him. He looked up at her.

"But...you're not an imaginary friend."

"You never know...sometimes we're so depressed we just happen to run into someone...or create them." She continued running her hands over his wings, remembering the previous imaginary friends' words as she became fascinated like a feline with the softness. He watched her, the wings slightly twitching in response to her touches.

Isn't anyone trying to find me?
Won't somebody come take me home?

"Threadbare."
"Threadbare?"

"Yes. It means tattered, or used. No offense, but you look like you could use some repair." He grinned, his tongue slightly protruding from his jaw.

"You could use some yourself."
"I should name myself Threadbare. I'm as uncreative as they can come."
"I think Threadbare's creative."

"Threadbare is a real word though." He tilted his head. She ruffled up the fluffs about his head, the ears flapping back and forth with slight cracks.

"Threadbare?" He asked.

It's a damn cold night
Trying to figure out this life
Won't you take me by the hand
Take me somewhere new

"Threadbare." She repeated, with confidence.

"What is your name?"

"Teff. Teff Riven." She replied, pulling her duffel bag over towards the seat. Their seat.

"...Riven means broken." He replied, his voice quiet. She pondered, then a smile crawled across her lips.

"I guess it does...I guess it does indeed." Silence followed, except for the quiet hum of the bus, and the steady glow of the bulbs upon his back.

"...Are we friends?" His voice carried over the hum, yet still created an euphony to her ears.

I don't know who you are
But I...

"...Yes. I believe we are."

I'm with you

"Friends going to Foster's."

Together.

Upcoming Chapter: Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends

Trying to be someone that you know your not
It gets harder everyday
All the lonely days
There's no one left to love
You wish life would go away

Ashlee Simpson - Harder Everyday