This is supposed to be first person (puffle) tense, point of view, or what… Arty is telling what has happened, and he's directing it at SugarAnne16, like he's writing her a letter. If it's a bit confusing for you, I'm sorry for making it so complicated. V_V
My Dearest Owner: Chapter 2
You, SugarAnne16, you were a terrific owner and I adored you so. You tolerated my frequent drawings and paintings and you would always show them to your guy friend, JaQ9, ever so proudly. On our walks, you would point out interesting things for me to consider as art subjects and you never complained when I accidently dribbled paint on the floor of your igloo. I remember your favorites of my artwork were the large aquarium painting you hang just above the sofa, the portrait of us together, and a secret sketch of JaQ9 stashed somewhere behind a piece of furniture. Days were good, only we really didn't know it at that time. And they, those unnamed, mysterious beings, they said something like good things never last. And they were right.
As I look at you now, I wonder.
If I had known, I would have done everything in my puffley might to stop that odd device that came along with the mail. It brought a parasite with it, a parasite so skillful and stealthy that it devoured your happiness without you realizing a thing.
And you never did.
We crowded around the shiny black object with curiosity.
"What's this?" You wondered. You inspected it and slid a flipper across its gleaming screen. Evidently, you found something interesting, because your face lit up with excitement.
"Sorry, Arty, got to go somewhere." You patted my head and departed. I waited patiently in the igloo, drawing as usual. But I was bothered by something I couldn't name. My drawing came out as unsettling scribbles and squiggles that led to nowhere as it twisted itself into a bundle, hiding that unraveling point that would make all straightened out again within its dark core. When you came home, you were radiating with exhilaration.
"Guess what, Arty! I'm a part of the EPF now!" So saying, you picked me up and waltzed across the room, laughing with joy. Perhaps I was mistaken about my worries.
"This calls for a secret party!" You whooped. It was the last we ever had.
The days following that, you came home and gushed all about how you found Aunt Arctic's puffles, survived in the wild and found a giant magnet on the roof of the Gift Shop. I was extremely happy for you.
But then it started.
Exhaustion began haunting your eyes, paranoia became you shadow. You barely went out and enjoyed life anymore. You didn't laugh and goof around as before. You were always immersed in troubled thoughts.
It was like a heavy burden, a responsibility way too great for one single penguin to handle had been placed on you and your strength was rapidly failing under its crushing weight.
I remember you mentioned once that, perhaps, you weren't as great as they made you out to be. You said that you were a failure in the missions but you were determined to prove yourself, no matter what. I couldn't understand a thing you were saying, but I knew one thing. You weren't a failure. You are the best penguin I met and I wished so hard that I could tell you that. Maybe then you wouldn't look so sad anymore.
To Be Continued...
Author's note:
I have nothing against EPF. Don't get angry at me. =(
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