Deformation Disaster by apparent |  |
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My name is Tara. Average name for an average Blumaroo, I
guess you could say. I wasn't ever noticed in life - I mean, I had a good amount
of friends, and my grades in Neoschool were great, but other then that, I was
just too regular. My coat was a royal blue color, and I sported the usual bouncy
tail as every Blumaroo in Neopia did. I could've been painted, I guess, if it
wasn't for my fear of magic. I often wondered what sense does it make to be afraid
of magic when you're surrounded by it? I had become deathly afraid of anything
that associated with Kauvara's magic shop when I was just a little youngster.
A transmogrification potion had transformed my brother into a mutant Blumaroo,
which was too hideous for me to even look at, and that's when my fear began.
It all started when Ms. Purfal, my schoolteacher,
happily proclaimed to our class, "We're going on a trip to Pango Pango's cooking
pot!" For the other 29 students in the classroom at the time, the declaration
was probably music to their ears. Immediately a loud chorus of laughter and
excited squeals filled the air. I tried to ignore all of the happiness in the
room, and slumped down into my seat, drooping my ears. Our class had been debating
for weeks on which landmark we should take a trip to, and I guess we'd settled
on the cooking pot somehow. If only I weren't afraid of magic, I would've enjoyed
the trip that soon changed my entire life.
While daydreaming mindlessly, I snapped back
into reality when a cold, wet piece of material made contact with my neck. Jumping
up, startled, I used a front paw to remove the spitball from my skin and turned
around to see who it was that had thrown it at me. I was greeted by a sneer
from James the Skeith who sat behind me in homeroom.
"What's the matter, Tara?" he asked, raising
one of his thick eyebrows to add to his faux-concerned expression.
Luckily for me, I was too angry to say anything,
just as Ms. Purfal demanded, "Tara! Turn around in your seat or else you'll
be cancelled from the class trip. The permission slips are being handed out
and are to be returned tomorrow morning." A few snickers were heard behind me
as I turned back around in my seat. I could never figure out why I was always
the target for humiliation, but as I grew older I learned to ignore it.
Freddie the Quiggle smiled a bit timidly as
he placed a white sheet of paper onto the surface of my wooden desk. He was
quite friendly to everyone, and shrugged a shoulder a bit as he explained to
me, "Looks like Ms. Purfal is grading us on our participation during that trip,
I just read the sheet myself. Better get that paper signed." I nodded slowly
while biting my bottom lip. If I were to go on the class trip, I would embarrass
the life out of myself. However, if I didn't go, I would receive a failing grade.
Nothing seemed to be going my way that day, and I pondered on what my decision
would be for the whole afternoon. The rest of the day slowly dragged by, I occupied
myself with plans of action while staring outside the window. Maybe I could
simply face my fears, but keep to the back of the class in order to avoid seeing
the pot. Maybe.
I was soon set free from my despair when the
bell rang at precisely 3:15 PM NST. Before Ms. Purfal could give us any homework
assignments, the classroom became a scene of chaos: papers flying everywhere,
students tossing their books into their lockers and jamming a few things into
their backpacks in order to go home. I was one of them for a specific reason;
if I stayed behind too long, James might take a liking to my presence and flick
a few rubber bands at me, or worse. I snatched my jacket from the back of my
chair and darted out of the room, not forgetting to bring my permission slip
with me. The double doors to the front of the school were propped wide open,
allowing the sun's beams to nosily peek into the building. I was glad to be
out of school; hopefully I could go home and release my mind of any stress.
I began to sprint down the sidewalk, propping
my tail behind me for balance. I loved my tail as if it were my best companion
when I was little, bouncing on the end of it merrily where I was to go. Of course
I didn't worship my tail anymore in my older age, but it was special to me in
some ways. Kind of like how a Pteri was nothing without it's wings or a Lupe
without its paws. I often thought of that in my spare time. While advancing
towards my front door, I peered around the side of the house to see if my owner
was home, and to my misfortune, he was. My owner was very gentle and loved gardening
while I was at school. Although I hated gardening, I often joined him in the
backyard to offer help.
The air conditioning of the inside of our NeoHome
greeted me happily. The wet strands of fur on my body chilled a little bit,
allowing me to relax. Our house was spick and span, and it appeared that my
older brother hadn't arrived from school yet, either. "Great," I smiled a little
bit despite the fact that I was feeling awful. "Now I've got some peace and
quiet, some time to think to myself." Propping myself upright on my favorite
chair in the living room, I withdrew the crumpled paper from my backpack and
set it on the glass table in front of me. Ms. Purfal's handwriting made me shiver
with fear - she was really set on taking us on that trip. After about an hour
of sitting there, thinking to myself, the front door opened and my brother came
in. I scrunched my eyes before reopening them, only to be faced with his frightening
appearance.
"Hey Dave." I smiled a bit and waved towards
him as he set his bag onto the floor. He waved back and plopped next to me on
the couch, obviously noticing my uncomfortable mood.
"Hey sis', what's up?" he asked me curiously,
and I pointed towards the piece of ink blotched paper on the table. Dave read
it intently, and then the room fell silent for what seemed like hours. Finally
he cleared his throat, speechless. "Ouch. That's bad, Tara. But don't worry
about it. I mean, you can always explain to your teacher about your fear, or
have dad write a note."
"But if I don't go I'll get a failing grade.
And worse then that, I'll have the most humiliating reputation in the whole
junior high. I really don't know what to do." My voice quivered a bit as I spoke
to my brother. I think I was over worried about the whole situation, causing
all of my feelings to build up inside like Terror Mountain itself.
"I'll talk to dad for you. Don't worry about
it, Tara. It's not big deal." We exchanged our paw-shake and I walked upstairs
into my bedroom to go to sleep. Maybe a bit of rest would help me to calm down
a bit.
That was the last time I saw my brother.
***
The next morning I wearily treaded down the stairs, wondering what events the
upcoming afternoon would hold in store for me. As usual, the sun peered from
between the curtains in the hallways and each bedroom was beautifully lit. As
I expected, my permission slip still lay on the glass table, my book bag on
the floor beside it. Unfortunately there was no note written to dismiss me from
going on the school trip. The house was empty - leaving me to guess that my
brother and my owner had left early for a day's work. "Well, I guess I have
no choice but to go to school." I said aloud to myself, releasing an exasperated
sigh at the idea of Pango Pango's pot. After being tempted to stay home 'sick',
I decided it would be the best to go and get it over with.
I exited the house silently and began to slowly
walk along the paved sidewalk to head to school. Usually, it would take me five
minutes to arrive at the large brick school, but since I purposely procrastinated,
it took thirty minutes. I noticed our class was lined up outside near a large
yellow bus in the parking lot. "Just great," I mumbled to myself, and began
sprinting towards my teacher.
Ms. Purfal looked me up and down in a very abnormal
manner when she saw me running into the parking lot. To my luck, everyone else
seemed to be occupied with talking to his or her friends. I gulped and handed
her my paper. "Sorry I'm late," I began to make up an explanation, but then
she sent me to the back of the line with a shooing gesture of her flipper.
"Alright, class, ascend onto the bus in a single
file line and fin a seat. No, Lisa, only three in a seat. Okay now, let's get
a move on."
The line slowly began to advance forward. It
took a while for us all to get settled, but eventually the bus began to roll
along the tar road to take us to the Mystery Island on the other side of Neopia.
I scrambled into the farthest seat to the back of the bus, clutching my book
bag within my paws. "Only twenty minutes and I'll be facing my worst fear,"
I said, pressing my nose onto the side of the cool window. Once we left the
city, an expanse of wheat fields rolled by and by, seeming solemn with their
yellow hue on the rather colorful day. I ignored the loud noise and shouts on
the bus, some 'pets were also singing songs or tossing around paper balls. I
felt miserable.
I can't recall of what else happened during
the trip because I only remember when we arrived at the Mystery Island, the
bus halting to a stop on the sandy ground and Ms. Purfal's loud, raspy voice
booming, "Alright children! Settle down, and we'll head towards Ms. Pango Pango's
pot. Make sure you have your notebooks and pens with you as well." I hated her
accent; it must have been some kind of thing that came with old age. We all
headed out of the bus in a big crowd, and after our teacher took count, we trekked
through the foliage towards the large metallic pot close by.
My nervousness had rose to a point where I could
no longer control myself. I began to tremble, which lead to tripping over my
feet every so often. The popular Unis affront me began to wonder if I had some
sort of brain problem, and if I wasn't scared out of my wits at the moment,
I would've set their opinions straight. We halted when Pango Pango greeted us
happily, waving her brown arm in our direction. I think our teacher was more
excited then we were for going on the trip, because every few moments she'd
hop into the air, waving her Jetsam fins wildly in every direction. The short
Pango Pango walked towards our now silent class and waved her wooden spoon in
circles. "Ah, welcome, children! I'm very honored to have you all here on this
fine afternoon. Well, enough rambling, let's move on, shall we? Ms. Purfal,
you can have half of the class move left to observe the spice shelf and the
others move right to view the pot. Remember, class, and do NOT touch the cooking
pot."
To my misfortune Pango Pango wanted to get things
moving right along. I decided to tiptoe towards the spice shelf, trying to ignore
the scent that the Cooking Pot was giving off to the atmosphere. "Well, this
shouldn't be too bad, should it?" I asked to myself while struggling to open
my spiral notebook and take some notes. Actually, I had to admit to myself that
I was scared out of my wits. The ink on my paper became smudged due to the sweat
on my paws. A few minutes passed, and I nervously jotted down a few things.
Everyone else seemed to be near the pot, because there were no longer any other
students around me. I released a slightly comfortable sigh. "Now, all I have
to do is avoid the Cooking Pot."
There are times when someone claims they "spoke
too soon" in a particular situation. I never understood that until that moment
when I felt Ms. Purfal's chilly flipper on my shoulder, and her scratchy voice
boomed into my ear: "Tara, the rest of the class is over at Pango's pot right
now, I suggest you'd tag along." There was no standing up to Ms. Purfal's assumptions,
especially if you hated detentions after school. I slowly trotted towards the
crowd of Neopets in front of the Cooking Pot. I stood in the back and watched.
Pango Pango stood on a stool, peering into the pot and explaining something
to the class. I couldn't hear very well, because I'd suddenly become nauseous
and oblivious to what was going on. I stood there for a few minute, trembling
and sweating buckets. Then Pango Pango retreated to the back, where the spice
shelf stood. Everyone began to whisper between himself or herself; I simply
tried to ignore it. In a split second, I suddenly became the center of attention.
James the Skeith and one of his friends escorted me to the front of the crowd.
Uh oh, I thought to myself, suddenly remembering that James was completely aware
of my fear.
"C'mon Tara, get a good view in the front row
of the Cooking Pot." He sneered gleefully towards me, pushing me so my hands
were against the warm metal of the pot. I gulped with nervousness, trying to
build up my courage higher then it had ever been before.
I heard chanting from my class behind me, "Go
Tara, go Tara!" What does 'go' mean? I asked myself, allowing my widened black
eyes to absorb the gruesome appearance of the cooking pot's lava-like contents.
James grinned, "Aw, come on Tara, move closer."
The next events happened within a split second.
James and his friend nudged me at the same time, their force pushing me over
the edge of the pot and into its hot depths. Immediately, I sunk to the bottom
of the Cooking Pot, my fur drenched and feeling as if it were on fire. If it
weren't for my knack of swimming I would've died right then and there. Luckily,
after a few moments, I became aware of where I was and gasped for air on the
surface of the Cooking Pot.
Everyone stared. My eyes felt as if they were
a now fiery red hue as I peered around at myself. I saw Ms. Purfal and Pango
Pango come running towards me from a distance. James stared, wide mouthed and
shocked at what had happened. "Tara.. I'm sorry.." he choked, and then fell
silent again. I couldn't take it anymore. With the strength I had left in me,
I climbed out of the pot and ran away from the class.
I ran for what felt like years. While running
my fur dried nastily and my facial hair stayed soaked with tears. I sobbed as
I tried to leave all of my problems behind me, my fear for magic more gruesome
then ever. Why did this have to happen to me? I asked myself, keeping a good
pace to make sure no one could catch up to me if they even tried. The sun began
to slowly set and my feet became sore from being slapped upon the pavement for
so long. I would've kept running, but for some reason I lost my balance and
fell onto the ground. I decided to rest on the bountiful amount of grass for
a little while. My owner must have been really worried about me at that time,
for the sun had completely set and darkness began to creep around my surroundings
silently.
My head became stricken with a horrible headache
a few moments later. It was the worst headache I had ever felt in my short life,
and my paws stung a bit, too. I had no idea how I'd gotten any cuts on my paws,
but they were there, blood-hued and all. I couldn't take the pain and embarrassment
I felt anymore, I longed to be back home, with my brother and my owner. I had
a few doubts, but I stood up. My limbs became wobbly and I tried to keep my
balance, but I failed. "My TAIL!!" I shrieked, rolling all over the ground with
horror. It was true, the long, blue tail behind me had disappeared and there
was not only a small rump behind me. What kind of Blumaroo had no tail? I began
to cry again. It must have been the cooking pot's chemicals that deformed me
so horribly, leaving me more vulnerable then I ever was before.
It was like that for days. I was literally in
the middle of nowhere; there were no passer-by's that might be able to help
me. The headache I had lasted for days. I tried crawling, kneeling, and cartwheeling
- it was all impossible without my tail. For some reason I felt emotionally
sick as well. I just felt incomplete without that spring-like tail propped up
behind me, too add to my appearance and help me function as a whole.
I lay there, on my back, on the fourth day I
was stranded by myself, staring at the sky with awe. Maybe if I relaxed a bit,
everything would get better. Like when I was little I thought that if I closed
my eyes and fell asleep, all of the bad thoughts would go away. I began to think
that my childhood theory might give me some comfort in this time that I seemed
not to have any solution to my problem. Then, I thought about my owner back
at home and my brother who I had missed dearly. For a few moments I felt angry
with James for pushing me into the pot, and I wanted him to suffer for it. Then
I realized it wasn't his fault, the pot had some sort of materials in it that
couldn't be helped. A tinge of pain from hunger bit at my stomach. I needed
to get rid of this pain; I could no longer bear it.
I closed my eyes.
The End
Author's Note: This story is credited to moonstars89, who gave the idea
of writing about what might happen to a Blumaroo without its tail. I hope I
gave a likely idea to all of the readers.
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