Origins

Syvelle was waiting. She sat on the sofa in the living room, eyes wide and curious.

      Her owner rarely went to Neopia anymore to visit her. And today, her owner was here. “Mom,” whispered Syvelle, tingling at the mere sound of the word.

      Syvelle held a Blue Ixi Plushie her owner had received as a newbie, but she treasured it so. She dubbed it 'Lizzy'. It reminded Syvelle of her mom when she was not there. Her very first present from her. Syvelle carried it everywhere, stroking it when she was anxious for her mom. She stroked it at the moment, eager for her mom.

      It was raining outside. Syvelle hoped Mom made it all right. The thunder and lightning weren't going to scare the brave Green Usul or decrease her confidence. Mom was coming, period.

      The door rattled and Syvelle jumped. Her heart raced, pulsing, tiny sweat drops forming at her forehead. The excitement was so. The door gave way and there stood a freckled, redheaded girl. “Mom!” Syvelle squealed and ran to embrace her.

      Syvelle's mom looked confused at first and reluctantly hugged her back. “Oh, um, hi there, Syvelle,” she said. Mom patted her.

      Syvelle was beaming, jumping up and down. “Hey, Mom, what are we going to go do first? See Faerieland? Go on a Tiki Tour? Huh, huh, huh?” asked Syvelle, not being able to hold the excitement.

      Syvelle's mom laughed nervously. “Um, no, Syvelle, we aren't going to do what you have planned. I came here on business reasons.”

      Syvelle said, “What do you mean, 'business reasons'? You're here for me; is that business?”

      “Syvelle, dear, come with me. We're going somewhere.”

      * * *

      Syvelle and her mom had raincoats on and were walking underneath an umbrella. Syvelle's feet were muddy. The dirt felt cool and moist and squishy under her feet as she walked. She liked that sensation.

      They walked all the way to Neopia Central and went to the Plaza. They stopped in front of a building that looked like a house. A sign read, “The Pound”. Syvelle didn't know what this was. She thought this was going to be a recreational place where her Mom and Lizzy and her were going to play. An innocent Neopet.

      Syvelle and Mom walked inside. It was full of cages with... Neopets inside, Syvelle observed. Her eyes grew with horror. What were they doing locked up? Weren't they supposed to be having fun, playing with plushies and Usuki Dolls?

      A friendly Pink Uni approached them. “Hello, I'm Ms. Rose. May I help you?” she asked them. Syvelle's owner nodded. “I need Dr. Death,” she explained. Ms. Rose let out a ladylike gasp, then called for him.

      Syvelle moved from foot to foot in her spot, holding hands with Mom. That 'Dr. Death' character didn't sound like anyone's best friend.

      A gray and angry-looking Techo came. “Whaddaya want?” he growled. Mom grabbed Syvelle and gave her to him. “I don't want her anymore. Here,” she said. “What?” whispered Syvelle, scared.

      “Mom, I thought you were taking me somewhere fun!” cried Syvelle. Her owner didn't have any facial expression or said anything. She just turned and walked away.

      “Mom!” Syvelle shouted. “Mommy!”

      “You deserve better than me, Syvelle. I barely come,” said her owner as she opened the door and disappeared.

      Syvelle shouted, squirmed, and cried as the Techo carried her to a cramped cage. He locked her inside. “Wait!” sobbed Syvelle. “What's this? What's going to happen to me?”

      The Techo snorted. “You'll be here in this dump until someone comes to adopt you. That means you'll get a new home and live like you did with your old owner, but better.” Then he walked away.

      Syvelle curled up to a ball in the cage. She felt dizzy. Why had she been dumped? Did Mom hate her? Had she been a bad Neopet? These type of thoughts swirled around her head. Then she fell asleep.

      * * *

      Syvelle opened her eyes slowly, stretched, yawned, and blinked. Then she sat up, gasping. Why was she in an enclosed building with Neopets locked away?

      Oh yes, the night before. Syvelle sniffed and rubbed her eyes. She remembered now. Her owner had left her alone. At least she still had Lizzy.

      Then she remembered Lizzy was from her ungrateful mom. She grabbed Lizzy and threw her across the place, landing in front of a Skeith's cage.

      “Oh, no,” said Syvelle. “What have I done?” She ran in circles in her cage, trying to come up with a plan to get her only source of fun she had back. She grabbed the bars in her cage and stared intently at the Skeith, who was snoring.

      “Psst,” whispered Syvelle, “You, Skeith! Um... Gregoree25!” she exclaimed as she read the Skeith's card that indicated the name. The Skeith said, “Huh?” and woke up.

      “Mr. Gregoree25, my plushie has landed in front of your cage. Can I have her back?” asked Syvelle.

      “P... p... plushie?” said the Skeith. Then it looked down, noticing the Blue Ixi Plushie lying face down. “Plushie!” it said delightfully. It wrapped its fat tail around Syvelle's precious plushie and ate it in a big chomp.

      “MR. GREGOREE25!” yelled Syvelle. Several snoozing pets woke up, startled, and Ms. Rose the Pink Uni shot her an annoyed look that said 'What was that for?'. Syvelle apologized.

      “Sorry. But Ms. Rose, Gregoree25 ate my plushie!”

      Ms. Rose went to Syvelle's cage. “Sweetie, I'm sorry. But you should have been more careful when you threw it across the room,” she said sweetly.

      “How'd you know I threw it?” asked Syvelle suspiciously.

      “I saw you.” Ms. Rose smiled evilly and walked to Gregoree25's cage, telling him not to eat plushies next time because they were bad for you.

      Syvelle sat down. Great. Her first official day here and the Neopet in charge hated her. And her only source of possible fun was gone.

      She curled up into a ball by the corner and began to cry silently. Had she ever done anything wrong to deserve this? And what if she spent her whole life here, trapped? She would surely die of boredom before anyone adopted her. And she had no friends.

      “I hate Ms. Rose,” muttered Syvelle.

      “I know. She hates some of us, but downright loves some of us,” said a voice. Syvelle sat up. Was her conscience talking to her? If so, it sounded like a guy.

      “Is that my conscience?” she asked the air. The voice chuckled.

      “No, sweetheart, I ain't your conscience. I guess you can think of me as one, but try to poke your head outta the bars and look to the right.”

      Syvelle did so and saw an old Blue Lupe resting. He was smiling broadly, like he was amused.

      “I'm Syvelle. What about you?” asked Syvelle, amazed someone had actually been nice to her here.

      “That don't matter. Jus' call me Q,” he explained. “What's a pretty li'l Usul like yourself doing here in the Pound? You surely must have been happy before.”

      Syvelle sniffed and held back more tears. “I was. My owner brought me here yesterday. I don't know why, actually. I loved her very much. She didn't come visit me much, but I still loved her.”

      Q nodded his head slowly and wisely. “Yeah, most of us are like that. They love ya real much, then boom, they abandon you all of a sudden. Usually, it's because we ain't painted or somethin' dumb like that. It's really the inside that counts,” said Q bitterly.

      “How long have you been in the Pound, Q?” asked Syvelle.

      “Ever since it opened again.”

      Syvelle made a sad face. Here she was, complaining about being here, when this Lupe had been here more, yet he was complaint-less?

      “Q, how come you're not sad you're here? After all, we could be here our whole lives...”

      Q chuckled. “I got this, Syvee,” he said, tapping his head.

      “I can see you have your head. So do I.” Then Syvelle tapped her head too. Q laughed.

      “No, Syvee, I meant I have imagination.”

      “What's an imagination?” asked Syvelle, clearly confused. Q laughed again.

      “Well, that's kinda hard to explain, but here goes. Imagination is a way of havin' fun, except you don't need nothin'. Jus' the ability to think and have fun.” Then he tapped his head again.”

      “How can I use imagination?”

      “Just think of something you really want. Think of it as writing a book, but it's live and happenin' in your brain.”

      Syvelle closed her eyes hard. She began to think. Let's see, what did she want? She wanted her owner. But she probably wouldn't come back. Oh, she had it! Her greatest ambition had been to be a princess. She had always been envious of their beautiful clothes, way of life, and everything else.

      “I'm a princess,” she muttered with her eyes still closed.

      “Good, good, but what's your name? And where do you live?”

      “I told you, my name's Syvelle, and this is Neopia Central,” replied Syvelle.

      Q laughed hard. “Yes, I know. But your name in your imagination can be what you want it to be. You can be whomever, live wherever, do whatever! Just think!”

      “I'm thinking...” muttered Syvelle. All of a sudden, it was as if a whole world had been opened. She saw herself adorned in gorgeous clothes, sporting a crown. She was in a castle at the very top of a mountain. She knew it was Shenkuu, because she had read about it.

      Imaginary Syvelle giggled. “I am Princess Usulina, princess of Shenkuu!” she shouted. Princess Usulina twirled and danced and sang. The real Syvelle was sitting down, relaxed, smiling with her eyes closed. “I can imagine,” said the real Syvelle.

      Q smiled gently. “There you have it. That's imagination.” But Syvelle wasn't paying much attention. She had discovered a new world, full of dreams and possibility. She now knew what to do during her life in the Pound.

      * * *

      After Q told her about imagination, Syvelle imagined away. She had created her own world where she ruled. She had a sister and several friends and a petpet. It was marvelous and Syvelle wished she had known of it sooner.

      Many months went by. Then one day, Syvelle woke up from a dream to find Q wasn't there. “Q?!” she yelled, “Q, where are you?”

      Ms. Rose saw the commotion and came to Syvelle. “Oh, I'm so sorry, Syvee. Qwertyuiop got adopted this morning,” she said too sweetly.

      “Qwertyuiop? I don't know him. What happened to Q?” asked Syvelle.

      “Qwertyuiop IS Q, Syvee. He was adopted this morning by a girl that looked like she always had her head up in Faerieland. It's no wonder, since that disgusting Lupe was like that, too.” said Ms. Rose, dropping her ultra sweet voice for a sour one when she explained about Q.

      Syvelle felt like crying. Her only friend, gone? What about the imagination games they played? And their chats? “Thanks, Ms. Rose,” was all she said.

      Syvelle sank her head into her hands and sobbed. Why was this happening? Why did...?

      Syvelle stopped crying and attempted to stand in her cage. She didn't feel like crying, for she had discovered something. Q had told her about imagination. Maybe he had known he was going to be adopted and had decided to share his findings with someone, so they could continue to pass it on.

      Yes, it clicked! Syvelle was doing a happy dance in her mind. She would find someone, lost and confused, to share imagination and Q's wise words with.

      By the time she had devised a plan, a stubborn looking Draik came into the Pound, muttering and cursing under his breath. He was painted Royal. What she supposed was his owner was behind him, shouting, “Drake, don't have that attitude with me, mister!”

      Syvelle smiled. Drake was the one. She would teach him. She would teach Drake.

The End