I sighed and looked out the window from my fifth story
office on First Street. Snow fell gently and had wrapped the city within a layer
of a pure white blanket. Bells chimed in the distance and everyone below me
bustled about with packages boxes and bags. All but me. For me, Christmas meant
nothing. Ever since I was a month old, I'm pretty sure my parents left me. I
raised myself on the streets, finally committing a crime too many just to stay
alive.
After my stay in jail I attempted to turn over
a new page. I kind of just erased it instead. Continuing in old ways, although
making a staggering profit as a private eye. Yeah, that's my sad pathetic background
story, but don't let it fool you. I'm as tough as nails. The name's Dark Night.
You probably heard of me before, from reading The Neopian Times. My acquaintance
Megz writes my stories from the many case files. For once I figured I'd try
my hand at writing.
Anyway, I hate Christmas. I usually just sit
up in my office reviewing my case files and paying my bills such as Bill my
bookie and Bill my probation officer. Not much happened during the holidays
for me, so I decided to emerge myself into a hobby. I tried but after a week,
I had no luck. I closed up early and took the day off, heading out to the local
Coffee Bar and ordering a cup of coffee to relieve me of my Christmas Blues.
"Hello Night," said Star cheerfully. Star was
a charming white Aisha who waited on me regularly.
"Hey. Rough day?" I asked in my gruff tone of
voice.
"Not really. We don't get many people in here
until late. Coffee?" she questioned.
I nodded. "Sure."
Star quickly fixed it just the way I like it,
with a hint of neocola. She smiled at me. "On the house Night."
"Thanks, I despise the holidays," I sighed and
took the cup. I then wrapped my paws around it, absorbing the warmth.
"Why's that?" Star questioned, arching her ears
into a question mark. Remarkable things Aishas can do with their ears.
"Well, my parents abandoned me around this time,
and well, you know..." I replied. Star already knew the rest.
"Maybe you should try to find them and regain
contact with them," she suggested.
To tell the truth I had considered it before,
but was never sure.
"I doubt it, although it is off season. No one
hires me around this time of year anyway. Besides I gotta do something," I remarked.
"I gotta go," I said, suddenly rushing out the door.
The harsh cold nipped at my nose and the wind
made my trench coat billow about me. Pets passed me in a hurry bustling about
to and fro in a rush to complete their holiday shopping. I didn't have to worry
about it, not in the least. That's one of the blessings of not having "friends".
I stopped to listen to some chatter momentarily.
"No no, I want the RED bike."
"MOMMY! I WANT A TRAIN!"
"Oooooooh a magic wand how enchanting!"
"I want a book for Christmas!"
"Merrrrry Christmas!"
"Happy Hanukkah"
I shook my head and headed up back to my office.
I had to do the unthinkable and actually use my computer. I had never used the
dratted thing in my life. I didn't understand it, unless you count all that
hacking I used to be capable of. I turned it on slowly and listened to the carols
that drifted into the office through my window. A message flashed on my screen.
Please Type In your Query.
I punched in Creation Records + "Night"
into the text box.
Processing.... Please Wait.... the message
replied. I watched it load.
Minutes passed. I glared at the computer clock.
10 minutes and nothing else had appeared onto the screen. I kicked my garbage
can. Suddenly the screen flashed.
One Result Found. Please click to continue
it said. I clicked.
The screen opened up. I almost cried at what
I saw.
Names:
Monty and Pricilla Night
Address:
109 Bread Street Neopian Central
Employment:
Retired
Battledome
Matches: None played
Status:
Rich
Offspring:
Dark Night
I had found my parents.
"This can't be happening," I said out loud.
It took me a few moments to regain the feeling
in my legs. I knew what I had to do next. I had to meet my parents. I decided
against looking "formal" and went as I was.
It took me a while to find 109 on Bread Street,
but I arrived at a beautiful NeoHome with all the fixings, including a gate.
I swung it open carefully and approached the door, being sure to ring the bell.
A middle-aged shadow Shoyru answered the door. He seemed pretty wise, and wore
square glasses.
"Can I help you?" he asked. He had a thick accent.
I couldn't make out its origins.
"Yes, are Monty and Pricilla Night home?" I replied.
"You're speaking to Monty my good fellow. What
brings you to our neighbourhood?"
"Sir, I'm Dark Night, and I think well, I'm
your son?" I stated in a nervous tone. Monty took a good look at me and invited
me in.
"PRICILLA! COME HERE!" he yelled with joy. I
looked about. This place was nicely planned; everything seemed to be in its
exact spot. I felt unfamiliar in this environment.
"We have no child," Pricilla snapped. She reminded
me of something vulgar I can't say. But her voice was that of nails on a chalkboard.
"What? We did too," Monty replied. He seemed
to have suffered under Pricilla's high maintenance demands. Pricilla was the
sort you'd love to hurt. Not that I wouldn't mind doing it at the moment as
she denied me, insulting my figure and making rude remarks.
"No, we didn't. We left him," Pricilla said finally.
I stared at her, shocked.
"DEAR!" Monty yelled. The two began to bicker.
I picked myself off the Zen sofa and walked out
the door quickly, despite Monty's urging me to come back. My heart was filled
with void. No wonder I hated Christmas so much.
I stormed into my office and kicked my computer.
Stupid thing was a piece of junk anyway. I couldn't believe what had been said
about me. That as a child I had been stupid and annoying. No wonder I felt ignored
and hated.
Slowly the anger wore off and I began to feel
sorry for myself. I felt alone. Then slowly a tear trickled down my face and
onto my desk. My suit of armour had begun to bend under the heat and I finally
broke down in tears. No one could handle those remarks from their own mother,
not even me. I vowed I'd never return to that infernal home again, no matter
what.
A loud beep alerted me of an incoming fax. Only
one word was written.
"Faith."
I didn't understand it. I just walked out into
the cold. It was dark now, and the streets were abandoned. The trench coat around
me flapped wildly in the breeze and I fixed my fedora over my eyes to hide the
fact that I had been crying.
I pondered the meaning of the fax. Who had sent
it? Why? What did ‘faith’ mean anyway? Why did it apply to me? Was I supposed
to have faith in my mother who had denied my existence? Was I supposed to have
faith in the future? I concluded all of the above and walked away from the street
lamps my long figure casting a shadow onto the white sidewalks which seems to
reflect my dark soul.
Then the meaning of the fax hit me. Perhaps,
just perhaps it meant to believe in myself, and everything else would run its
course. After all, insults come and go, but I would still have my pride.
The End
Note: Dark Night is not related to Tracer Bullet from Calvin and Hobbes. Thank
you. | 
