"Blondie! Give me the dye!"
Mildew tossed the small bottle that contained Jamaa dye to Captain Cove. Despite his clumsy hand, the plastic container still made its way gracefully into his fingers.
"Alright… I've never done this before," Cove breathed. "Let alone to an dead guy…"
"Unconscious!" Sir Astro exclaimed from somewhere behind Mildew. "He's unconscious, not dead."
Out of all of the events that took place in Kimbara Outback, I was only dimly aware of a fourth of them. I remember two things: blacking out, and Professor Wiggle's voice.
3-5 minutes. Professor Wiggle told them that 3-5 minutes would do it.
So why wasn't I dying yet?
There were so, so many times in the past year where I should've died.
Why was I still alive?
Nancy should be alive. Jesse should be leading. Sir Astro's face shouldn't have been destroyed. Professor Wiggle shouldn't be forced into teaching people in Jamaa.
Don't even get me started on how Clark has been affected by this. The memory of him as a clerk in a gag shop is almost transparent to me now. He was not meant for this kind of life. He was supposed to have a quiet, undisturbed life in the Toontown countryside. But that's all gone now, isn't it? Toontown is gone. Raided. Taken over. We don't have anything now.
I constantly find myself wondering if it was worth it. If I somehow managed to save Jesse, would it even matter? It's not like the Penguins would just hand over Toontown. It didn't help that we were so small in numbers, either.
In my brief moments of consciousness I would find myself doing the same thing: listing everybody that I know is alive. And the same names would always come up.
Clark, Astro, Professor Wiggle, I would think. Clark, Astro, Professor Wiggle.
I can hardly remember their voices. I can hardly picture them. Everything is jumbled and blurry in my mind- my memories are on shuffle.
Where was I going now?
Did I just get into the mining accident?
Where is Nancy?
Is Jesse okay?
Ravioli comes into my mind a lot. I need to find him. I need to save him.
But, no, I can't. If I save Ravioli then I'll be forced into slavery.
Then a voice (who?) would ring in my head.
"That's absurd," he says.
"That's absurd, Neo, and you know it."
Who is Neo? Why is he absurd?
There is one voice above all others, though. The voice that chimes like a bell signaling you have to wake up. A bittersweet, reckless voice that tells me not to worry. Not to worry, no, because it's almost over. Over in was relevance I still can not figure out. The voice isn't angry or comforting. It's matter-of-factly without being demanding. My life is a statistic to this voice, and I can't say that I feel bad about that. I am nothing more than a statistic. A small portion of an empire once well known- a brief passage of a fallen state.
"Neapolitan?"
I threw my head up and faced the brown-haired girl. "Yes?"
"You're going to be alone now."
"Where are you going?"
"Away."
"As in?"
"Please don't worry about where I'm going."
"Oh."
"Professor Wiggle will help you. He will teach you. I know you're younger, but please, please, Neapolitan… I need you to start training immediately. I've talked to Jesse already. He will let you stay here if you help him. He's a very nice man, Ne. He'll help you, I know he will. You have so many people on your side."
Her light brown eyes began to glaze over and soon enough tiny dots of water were spreading down her cheeks.
"You have so many people with you. Please don't give up."
"I'm not going to."
She shook her head at my statement.
"Oh, sweetie, I know you won't. Not now. But you can so easily get on the wrong path. Please don't do anything harmful to yourself. You don't deserve it."
"Okay."
"I'm going to go away for a little bit."
"I know."
"Please please don't forget that you have so many people."
"I know."
"You have so much in you. I know that you'll make it. I know that you'll be strong. I'm sorry."
The hug that she gave me I remember only vaguely.
She seemed so, so important to me at the time, but I can't remember who she is now.
I often find myself wondering about her. What her name was, what her story was, and, most of all, her significance in my life.
I can hear small voices that sound like hers.
"Don't go outside," one would say.
"Put your jacket on," said another.
It was always so protective, so important.
But, even still, it was slightly bittersweet.
"So you were exiled?"
"Exiled, banned, banished… Whatever you want to call it."
"But you were forced to leave."
The pink haired boy flashed a shiny grin.
"Nobody can force me to do anything. You know that."
"Oh, I do. So you just left? Without a word?"
"Not entirely. It sounds cheesy, but I guess I respected him. I wanted him to think I was decent. So I guess leaving was the only way to do that, since I'm such a sleezebag."
"I can't argue with that!"
"I know."
"So where are you going now?"
"I've been thinking different things."
"And what might those things be?"
"Neopia."
That marks the end of Home. And the beginning of Transmutation ;)