Wishing for death is not equivalent to contemplating it. Is it tedious, torturous, like fighting a heavy sleep that threatens to drag you down? Is it like battling clarity and fog, unsure which is less painful? Is it sudden, like the unceremonious crash after a fall?
Or is it like this? Smooth and gentle, blurry and all-consuming: a bundle of memories, floating to nowhere, reliving all existence with stoicism.
Drunken on hellfire, she awoke in ice. Her mind was fogged and groggy, but nothing ached. The world was cold and silent, drowned in complete darkness, but her ears did not ring. Gingerly, she pushed herself up to a sitting position, the slight hint of vertigo passing through her. The floor's familiar texture was of cool wood, polished once many years ago and now worn by faded steps.
Shifting to look around, she found there was nothing to see. There were no glittering stars to puncture the darkness above, nor the steadily blinking light of a smoke detector. She was not outside, and she was not at home. Habitually, the girl went to tuck a curl behind her ear, but then she froze. Her hair was gone. She quickly ran her hands over her head to find it completely smooth, waves upon waves of ginger hair vanished. Did it... burn off? The panicked thoughts escalated as she noticed her skin did not feel scarred at all— it wasn't even soft like any flesh would be; it was hard and slick as if polished.
Brushing her shaking hands along her face, she crossed blank skin without ever bumping into a nose, mouth, or eyes: there was nothing but slight curves to suggest that features were once there. Her breaths weren't short and shallow— no, there weren't breaths at all. Her body didn't crave air, though in her sickening horror she wanted to gasp for oxygen and scream; her body refused, and the tension grew and coiled up in her chest where it could not escape, finding the space empty as there was no heartbeat to race. She was nothing.
In the agonizing silence, the girl was left with her whirling thoughts. What have I done? Where am I? Could this be just a nightmare, one that fought her back as she begged to wake up? Was she still safe at home, tucked in under her covers, or was she burning in Hell for all the wicked things she'd said and thought?
Click.
In perfect clarity, crisp and golden, a spotlight flickered on before her. It was but five yards away, particles of dust suspended in the glow like stars. It mesmerized her, paralyzed her in awe, and her fretting ceased. Her mind froze. Two things became immediately clear:
I am very awake. I am very alive.
She did not question how she could see it without her eyes. It was simply there. Craning her neck, she searched for the mysterious light's origin but found nothing. It was not a creation of man. In some other universe, she would've thought this was Heaven, but a young girl like her couldn't believe in such a thing anymore. She crawled cautiously toward the light, stopping about a yard away, and studied the way it illuminated a perfect circle of wooden floorboards. Now she was just close enough to the soft glow to notice that her featureless body, shiny like glass, was a stunning mix of glittering purples and blues. This was what she had imagined galactic matter was when she was small. It was beautiful.
The sound of footsteps snapped her out of her thoughts. They were light yet sturdy, and though they began in the far distance, they quickly grew closer and louder. Someone was approaching the spotlight. It was too pitch-black to make out anything beyond it, so she would have to wait until they were underneath to see. Her heart would race if it could. Despite this, there was something so comforting in that warm light that she did not run. She only chose to scoot away a few feet from the light, stare, and wait, the rhythmic steps consuming her. Finally, agonizingly slow, a figure emerged from the darkness, stepping fully into the glow.
Tight fear gripped her throat for an instant. It was... a cat. A cobalt blue cat, standing up straight with its two hind legs planted firmly in neatly-tied hiking boots. It looked so tall from her position on the floor, and it stared down at her with giant scarlet eyes, vertical slits for irises. It smiled widely at her. Wishing she could swallow the ball of tension in her throat, she let it slowly dissipate as she pushed herself backwards with her feet, moving away from the creature while never looking elsewhere.
It's... come to judge my soul.
The cat's startling eyes squinted a bit when it chuckled— chuckled! It gave her gentle, a friendly wave. The white of its paws matched its muzzle and the tip of its tail. The girl did not wave back.
Then, in a quick warble, it spoke: "Hey, there! The name's Rover."
She startled. It—he—really spoke, and it wasn't in her language. His voice, though jovial, wove sounds and syllables that were foreign to her... yet she understood them perfectly. Then, she looked down at his sweater vest, a black and red argyle pattern with a yellow hem. She noticed the white button down underneath and the perfectly fit navy jeans. Suddenly, it would be weird if he couldn't talk, and why shouldn't he? He was standing there with a calm and confident human composure. Here, in this endless void, perhaps she, in her current body, was the oddity.
"Alrighty!" Rover continued, grinning in a manner that showed off sharp canines. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I heard you were moving in, so I came to get you! Nice, huh?"
Moving? She tried to speak up and say no, that she somehow got lost, but no sounds escaped her. She shook her head instead, and though it was clear that he saw, he didn't even pause.
"Ah, life on your own... I know that's exactly what you're thinking right now." Rover placed his paws on hips and looked up into the nothingness all around them as if wistful. "Nobody to tell you what to do! Free to live exactly as you please! Sign me UP!"
No... no, no. The girl shook her head feverishly. I don't want to live on my own. I want to go home! I want to go back! She backed further away from the cat and the spotlight.
He closed his eyes and nodded to himself. "Oh yeah, a new house, a new neighborhood, some new friends..."
No! Her body ached to scream, but the force of it only hurt. A life without her father was bad enough. A life without her mom and Kaito wouldn't even be worth living.
Would it?
"A fresh new start and a whole world of possible encounters await. I mean... How sweet is that? Oh, SO sweet!"
Those words stung with a sharpness that lingered. They sounded exactly like what she had told Kaito all those years ago on the rickety balcony where they knew they shouldn't be. He was so little. He had been so hopeful. And what had she done? Squandered it all. Please, stop it! I know I ruined everything; I know I just made a big stupid mess out of everything, but I want to go home! I want to see my mom! I want to tell her I'm so, so sorry! I know I don't deserve it but please, please, please take me back! Please! She begged and cried to everything, anything. Someone must hear. Someone must listen. She curled herself up into a ball, further away from the light than when she first saw it.
The sobs encaged in her throat blossomed into a radiating pressure that scalded through her chest. It felt like fire.
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Rover burned.
There was a painful heat caught in his throat that forced his breaths to shake. He straightened himself and took air in cautiously, slowly. He restrained himself from pressing a paw to his heart to dull the soreness there. Faces and voices of strangers flashed through his mind relentlessly. The human's memories left a sickening sadness in the pit of his stomach as they passed. Rover had to pretend he didn't see those, either. Being a Crosser may as well come with a degree in theatre.
I want to go home!
He had heard those very words once before. He shouldn't have heard them then, and he shouldn't be hearing them now. His own memory, blurry and aching, persisted through the storm. Lilac hair and large, twinkling blue eyes.
Please, I'm sorry! I'll be better! I'll change! I promise!
Rover cringed. He bit his lip and then immediately cursed himself for faltering. It was a simple job. Just spit it out. "A-And," his voice croaked dryly. He swallowed. "What better way to start than with a sparkling fresh canvas?" He wasn't fooling anyone. He knew it sounded like he was being strangled. Like he was some malfunctioning robot, stuttering over the lines he's said a million times.
Leaden guilt crashed into him and for a second he thought it was his. But then the face of a little black-haired boy, chubby cheeks and expectant eyes, appeared in his mind. The boy held up a brilliant red flower with exactly eight petals. Without warning, the flower burst into scarlet flames. They consumed everything in an instant. He smelled burning wood, and he heard a blood-curdling scream.
It finally made sense. He was pressing his ears down against his head, eyes squeezed shut as he grimaced. Lilac hair danced in his vision amongst the flames. Their sobs resonated in an agony that he could no longer bear. Everything echoed.
They were the same. Though he had been forcing himself to deny it for a week, it was true. Chosen were taken in their sleep, when their minds were clean and calm and open to anything: when they were truly free. But this one arrived raw and bleeding, an open wound. They hadn't been asleep when they were Chosen. They had been very much awake.
New fear, ice cold, trickled up his spine. He couldn't tell if it was hers... or his.
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The cat's prolonged silence was what tore her from her whirling mind. Tentatively, the girl looked up and saw him doubled over, holding down his ears as if in pain. She slowly released her tight grip on her legs and tilted her head to the side as she studied him. With his face screwed up, he had lost that perfect composure that had made him almost eerie. He finally looked... alive. Though her own body ached, she ignored it and forced herself up, quietly making her way to him. She stopped, stared for bit, then sat down about a foot from the light. He had let go of his ears, but now he only looked exhausted, eyes still closed, fallen to one knee. She had never had a pet before. How would one console a cat? Carefully, as if not of her own volition, her hand raised itself and neared his lowered head.
His red eyes blinked open and found her hand, frozen in the air. His new smile was gentle, and his voice was soft. "No, no... it's okay. I'm okay."
He chucked and brought a paw to her hand, but the two did not touch. She lowered hers as she watched him.
His brows furrowed and concern laced his words. "Sorry I scared you." He lowered his gaze to his boot for a second before returning to her. "I didn't want to ignore you, either. I'm just on... strict orders."
Strict orders? She wondered; this, out of anything, she had not been expecting. From who?
"My boss." He shrugged.
The girl jumped back in surprise. Did he just—?
"Oh. Whoops." Rover smiled apologetically. "Read your thoughts? Yeah, a little. I can't really help that, either. Sorry, kid." He scratched the back of his head. "Kinda comes naturally with the field of work I'm in. It's a, uh, required skill."
Oh! Um, no, that's okay! It definitely makes this a lot easier. The girl scooted forward again, trying to not let the hope in her chest become too strong. Do you think you could help me? Please?
Rover pretended to be offended. "Think? I KNOW I can. That's my job!"
The hope disobeyed and fluttered wildly. Oh, perfect! Could you tell me where we are right now?
"Ah, that's a good question..." Rover looked to his right, then his left, squinting out into the darkness. "Kind of... the middle of nowhere? Ever heard of it before?" When he looked at her again, it was almost as if he could sense her jolt of horror. "But don't worry! We won't be here much longer. That's actually why I came to get you-- so I could take you to your new home!"
The girl drew back a bit, shaking her head quickly. Oh, no, I-I don't want to a new home. I want to go back to my old one, back in Daufuskie Island! She caught his frown but continued before he could speak: I-It's in South Carolina, and I've been there since I was, like, four. I don't know how it happened, but there was this fire, and I fell with the balcony, and somehow I survived and ended up here, but I don't belong here, I--
"Woah, woah, there, buddy!" Rover held out a paw between them to pause her. "You can't just go around saying those things! Of course you belong here, you were chosen."
I was-- what?
"Chosen, kid. Think of it like... a sweepstake. My boss saw something really special in you, so he chose you to come live a second life in our world, as well." Rover's smile was wide.
The girl was quiet for a second, overwhelmed. Your world?
"Yup, Animal Crossing." He beamed, full of pride.
She looked down at the wooden floorboards. What do you mean by a second life? Do you mean I still get to go home?
"Of course! What? Are you suggesting I kidnap children or something?" Rover laughed, then cringed. "Oh, actually, don't answer that. I've been called a lot of things in my life. I... really don't want to add kidnapper to the list."
The girl didn't reply.
"Anyway!" Rover tugged at his collar, looking away in what she could only guess was embarrassment. "Yes, bud, you'll still get to go back home. I bring you to Animal Crossing, you get to start on a brand new slate, and then, whenever you please, you can go back to Dau... Don... Daf..."
Daufuskie Island?
"Yes! There! You'll get to leave and go back there whenever you want, and it'll be like no time has passed. Then, when you want a break from the toil and turmoil of home..."
I... get to come back to my second life?
Rover nodded, grinning brightly. "Exactly! You're a fast learner." Still on one knee, he held out a paw. This time, his palm was open before her. "So c'mon. Are you ready to start fresh? To grab a new bull by his new horns and start a new adventure?"
The girl did not move. This was it. This was exactly what she had cried and begged and prayed for all those nights in her bed, eyes bloodshot and throat raw: to start over, to fix everything. She would be in a world where no one knew her, where she was not that stupid, selfish, hateful girl. She would be new, and in turn, when she returned to her mother, she would finally be worthy.
There was nothing to ponder over.
Yes!
Before she could fully take his paw, Rover firmly grasped her hand and stood back up in one fluid motion, pulling her to her feet and into the light with him. As she stumbled under the golden glow, it utterly consumed her, turning into a blazing white that swallowed everything. It was not painful. It was an enveloping embrace. She let it wash over her until she felt nothing but its warmth.
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Original version: 12/1/18
Revised version: 04/26/24