The Valentine’s Day Deadline

      Every thirty seconds, she wrote in the dark until she hit another lamplight. She would then groan in frustration and scribble out most of what she had written.

      Maybe her handwriting was a little hard to read. Emphasis on little.

      Her notepad was filled with more crossed-out rewrites than legible lines to keep, but Arethusa shook her head and continued multi-tasking—which she had been doing a lot of the past couple weeks. She wouldn’t know what day it was if not for the fact, that she always knew what day it was and that her deadline was four days away—Valentine’s Day. She was currently following a hot story that involved the great Turmaculus and missing Petpets and it had kept her out of the house all day and most of the night.

      She stopped in front of her Neohome and sighed as she finished writing off her last thoughts. The warm glow of the lights within welcomed her back. Before even heading in, she knew her sister Artemis had recalled all the day’s sales from the family shop. Aphrodite rehashed her epic fights in the Battledome, and their oldest sister, Athena, would be recommending the books she had curled up with during the day and read.

      What Arethusa didn’t expect was to see her entire family still in the living room as if they were waiting just for her.

      “Arethusa!” Aphrodite exclaimed, the Pink Xweetok bounded over and crashed into her. Arethusa let out a wheeze. Their baby sister did not know her strength.

      “Dinner is in the kitchen. Another late night?” Artemis asked, her horizon blue eyes twinkling like her delicate wings did. The Faerie Grundo looked to be plucked from the galaxy itself.

      Arethusa nodded.

      “You’ve been working really late every night,” Aphrodite commented.

      “And you still can’t tell us what you’re writing about?” Athena, their Grey Ixi older sister inquired from her comfy maroon chair near the roaring fireplace.

      Arethusa dodged her sisters, both physically and figuratively as she bypassed the kitchen and headed down the hall. “Top secret, but I’m exhausted. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

      It was unspoken that no, Arethusa would not see them in the morning as she left before anyone woke up.

      “Don’t forget Valentine’s Day is on Thursday!” Artemis called behind her, but Arethusa heard ‘Thursday!’ and immediately thought of her looming deadline. Her stomach twisted. Four days away and she didn’t even have a page of half-decent words for her story.

      Her room was best described as organized clutter, but she was a creative mind. Did you expect anything less?

      Tacked above her desk was her first story for The Times and she smiled at the constant reminder that she could do this.

      Her desk was relatively clean—at least the centre was—so she could write. Surrounding the desk, however, were stacks of Neopian Times issues, pens—lots of pens—and her favourite feathered quill. The feather belonged to her beloved Petpet, a White Weewoo named Alpheias.

      “Alphe!” she greeted the little Petpet, albeit with a yawn. The little Weewoo paced along Arethusa’s fluffy white comforter in distress as Arethusa got ready for bed.

      “I’m sorry,” Arethusa said as she slid underneath the covers, cocooning herself in the warm comfort of the bed. “I’ve just been so busy.”

      Busy, and stressed, and worried, and exhausted. All the time. It was never-ending, really. This second story of hers was proving to be far more overwhelming than the first story she wrote. Why was this one so hard to write?

      She fell asleep to Alpheias’ huffs. She continued to dream of them, and even awoke to them the next day. The Weewoo continued as Arethusa got ready the next morning.

      The sun was just beginning to crack over the rooftops outside her window as she strapped her bag over her shoulder and made sure she had her notepad that was currently filled with all the ‘wrong words’ tucked inside. Would she be lucky with inspiration today?

      “I can’t bring you with,” Arethusa explained to Alpheias’ exasperated sighs.

      The Weewoo kicked the air in frustration and tweeted a slurry of chirps at Arethusa.

      “I know we’re a team,” Arethusa said, equally as frustrated. Alpheias had been with her when she broke her first story. Maybe she should bring Alpheias along…

      No. Arethusa shook her head in resolution.

      “I know you’re always with me, but this lead… it’s too dangerous for a Petpet.”

      Alpheias huffed and grumbled unhappily and turned away from Arethusa to stare at the wall. The Weewoo was angry with her.

      “I promise I’ll bring you in when I can,” Arethusa promised.

      She was ignored.

      For the next three days, Alpheias ignored her. Instead, her Petpet opted to spend her days and nights with Aphrodite’s ferocious Darigan Mazzew, Venus. But Arethusa always caught Alpheias staring out the window at her when she left in the morning.

      On Wednesday—the day before her deadline—Arethusa’s nose was in her notebook as she scribbled and workshopped lines she wanted to use in her article to no avail. Everything sounded too contrite, or too muddled, or simply… bad writing. She groaned. It couldn’t be this hard to write about Turmy and abandoned Petpets being sent to him to eat! Arethusa was on the cusp of stringing a decent sentence together when she looked up.

      And around.

      And behind.

      Where was she?

      She swore she had been on the sidewalk on her way home. Surprisingly, the sun was only just beginning to set. Which would make the earliest she had come home for over a week.

      Gone was the sidewalk and any sign of life. Arethusa seemed to have taken a wrong turn and her distraction turned her around somewhere, ending up down a dirt path.

      Her taste for adventure tickled her senses and far outweighed the instinct to go back the way she came.

      Arethusa frowned at the ground. If anyone would encourage her to explore, it would be Alpheias.

      Tears started to fill her eyes and the exhaustion of chasing her Turmy story weighed like a ton of bricks on her shoulders. It just… wasn’t… working.

     She’d barely seen her owner or sisters for the past week and a half. When was the last time she sat down and had a meal with them?

      Not to mention she hadn’t bounced any ideas off of Alpheias.

      Was this what all writers warned each other about? How hard it was to write the second story after receiving praise and success from the first?

      The path she wandered down opened up into a clearing with the most beautiful garden she had ever seen flourished before her.

      The orb plants first drew her attention. The setting sun’s rays caught in their reflectors and cast deep orange and dusky red light around the garden and the pond at the centre. A gilded gold bridge lifted in an arc overtop the crystal blue water.

     What was that delicious scent?

      Arethusa looked around until she spotted the scented Heart Flowers—their red and magenta petals swayed in the breeze as if reaching out to her.

      It was all so beautiful, she momentarily forgot about her deadlines, her lack of presence at home, writing, and neglecting Alpheias.

      But then of course, she remembered all her troubles at once and the tears stung as they made a sharp return.

      “What troubles you, young Neopet?”

      Arethusa jumped out of her skin—Alpheias never would’ve allowed her to lack awareness of her surroundings—and whirled on an Earth Faerie who smiled down at her. She held a pair of gardening shears in one hand and gloves in another.

      “Nothing’s the matter,” Arethusa deflected quickly and ran the back of her paw under her eyes.

      The Earth Faerie tilted her head over to the bed of purple and orange-streaked pebeanjay flowers. “Help me?”

      She would not deny a faerie, so Arethusa diligently followed behind. “What is this place anyway?”

      “My garden,” the faerie replied simply.

      “It’s so beautiful,” Arethusa breathed. Fresh-cut grass, sunshine, warm bark, and poppies crowded her senses.

      She sat beside the Earth Faerie, who got to work tending to the garden. When Arethusa leaned in to smell the flowers, she jumped back when the flowers began to move.

      No, that wasn’t right.

      A few seconds later, an Angelpuss wandered out, scrunching its nose up at her.

      Arethusa’s heart tugged. Her own Petpet would love it here.

      The Earth Faerie’s laugh was more like a sweet melody as she bent over and brushed away vines and leaves tangled in the Angelpuss’ halo before sending them on their way. She glanced at Arethusa’s troubled expression.

      “Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” she asked.

      Where to begin? Arethusa doubted the Earth Faerie wanted to hear it all. Surely, she had her own worries too well, worry about.

      “I have a new job, you see. I write for Neopian Times. My first story was received very well, and now I’ve been needing to write my second story, and it’s so hard. It hasn’t come as easy as the first. What if I’m not a good writer anymore? What if I only had one good story in me?”

      Arethusa slumped and rested her chin on her paw.

      “I haven’t seen my sisters for more than five minutes these past couple of weeks,” she continued. “And my Petpet, Alpheias. She’s my very best friend and we do everything together. I haven’t been able to bring her along with me on this story because it involves missing Petpets and I’d never forgive myself if something happened to her.”

      Arethusa let everything out. She tripped over her words in a rush to unleash it.

     If the Earth Faerie wanted to know what was on Arethusa’s mind, oh, she was getting every intrusive thought.

      “I’ve been neglecting her and I feel awful.” She wiped a couple tears from her eyes and looked up at the Earth Faerie.

      The faerie appeared thoughtful as she tended to the pebeanjays in front of them, but she eventually paused and looked down at Arethusa.

      “You’ve had a big change in your life recently. It’s normal to be overwhelmed as priorities that were once easy become hard.”

      Arethusa let out a shaky breath, but the faerie wasn’t finished.

      “As for your writing. Whether you intended your first story to be published or not, you wrote it for yourself, correct?”

      Arethusa nodded.

      “Now, this second story… you’re writing it on a deadline, yes?”

      Again, Arethusa nodded.

      The Earth Faerie smiled. “The story you’re currently writing has become work with expectations. You’re overwhelmed. It happens to the best of us.”

      She motioned her hand at the lively garden. “Once this place became a spot for Neopets like yourself to come and enjoy, well, I had to work to maintain it. It can be hard sometimes.”

      “How do you deal with it?” Arethusa asked.

      “I take a deep breath,” the Earth Faerie said, and looked pointedly at Arethusa.

      After a moments pause, Arethusa took a deep breath with the Earth Faerie, holding the air in her lungs at the peak before letting all the air whoosh out.

      “Feel better?”

      It did feel as if she released the tension that had been bound around her neck. Though, it wasn’t completely gone. “A little.”

      “That’s a start,” the faerie encouraged. “It’s important you take care of yourself. Self-care clears the mind and centres you back to the earth.”

      “How do I do that?”

      The Earth Faerie chuckled with a shake of her head. “You do things you enjoy, silly! And most importantly, you surround yourself with those you care about. Once you’ve had time for yourself, you can get back to your work. You don’t want to burn yourself out, and to me, it looks like you’re headed straight toward that.”

      Arethusa nodded. She did feel burned out. All the late nights and early mornings. Unable to bond with her sisters or hang out with Alpheias. The way this second story was draining out all of her creativity. She needed to step back and clear her head, though she was a little afraid.

      “What if I take a step back and realize I’m writing the wrong story?” she asked herself. When the Earth Faerie responded, Arethusa realized she had spoken the words aloud.

      “Then I think you need to reevaluate the things that make you excited to write.”

      The faerie’s words sunk in and Arethusa paused to reflect on what that could mean with her future story and a fast-approaching deadline. “You’re right. I need to take some time for myself. When I do, I can look at this story with fresh eyes.”

      The Earth Faerie looked pleased. “That’s the spirit! What can I do to help?”

      Surprised by the faerie’s willingness to continue helping her, Arethusa looked around. “Could I… borrow your garden? Just for the day.”

      The next morning, Arethusa woke up to excited chatter coming from the living room. Her sisters were awake and must have found the chocolates and valentines she laid out when she got home the night before.

      Alpheias hadn’t greeted her last night. Instead, Arethusa had found her little Petpet curled up with Aphrodite’s Darigan Mazzew on the couch, sleeping. At least Arethusa’s absence had caused the two to become buddies.

      “Oh, Arethusa! You did all of this?” Artemis asked the moment she appeared in the doorway. Her Grundo sister’s arms were full of faerie chocolates.

      Across the room, Athena brought a bouquet of roses to her nose. Even the Grey Ixi’s cheeks were flush with excitement.

      Aphrodite rolled on the ground, her pink fur matching the rest of the Valentine balloons in the room.

      “I know I’ve been busy, but I thought we could spend the day together?”

      “Isn’t your story due today?” Aphrodite asked.

      “It’s due tomorrow,” Arethusa amended, lucky that she had an editor who was kind and forgiving to a writer headed toward burnout.

      While her sisters danced around the room, Arethusa noticed Alpheias on the couch, avoiding her gaze and concentrating greatly on the Darigan Mazzew chomping its sharp white teeth at a balloon on the floor.

      “Alphe,” Arethusa said quietly and joined her on the couch. “I’m sorry for not including you. I was worried, but I should have talked it through with you instead of keeping you in the dark.”

     Alpheias peeked at Arethusa from the corner of her eye and shifted on her feet, side to side. She gave a low chirp.

     “I know. We are partners. Can I make it up to you?” she asked.

     Alpheias—ever the little drama queen—kept her in suspense for a few seconds before chirping.

     Arethusa broke into a smile. “Perfect! Come on.”

     Her sisters were getting ready by the door, their own Petpets in their arms. “Where should we go?” Aphrodite asked.

     “We could go to the Coffee Cave on Roo Island,” Athena started, but Aphrodite cut her off.

     “Lame! Let’s go somewhere cool,” Aphrodite said and cracked her knuckles. If it were up to her, they’d be heading to the Battledome.

     “The coffee place will probably be busy, anyway,” Artemis amended, her galaxy-coloured wings twinkling in the sunlight that filtered through the window. Her bright blue eyes turned to Arethusa. “Have any ideas?”

      “I do. Bet you’ve never been there before. What do you say?” she asked, but looked to Alpheias. She dipped her shoulder down, offering it to the Weewoo. Alpheias waddled over and climbed up on Arethusa’s shoulder. It was her usual perch, and Arethusa broke into the biggest grin.

      “So, it’s an adventure?” Aphrodite asked and fluffed up the pink fur at the top of her head. “Let’s go!”

      Her sisters’ eyes grew to the size of Kreludor as Arethusa led them to the secret garden. Flowers of every colour bloomed and swayed in the morning breeze. It looked even more magical than it had the day before. The red poppies, the pink hydrangea bushes, the purple cinerarias, and the green Star Trees provided shade over a red and white checkered picnic blanket and basket. She would thank the Earth Faerie again for helping her plan this surprise.

      A day to relax and surround herself with those she loved most.

      “How’d you find this place?” Artemis asked.

      Arethusa shrugged. “Stumbled on it. Helped clear my head.”

      Alpheias chirped on her shoulder and Arethusa nodded. “Yes, there is a box of Chocolate Chip Moonrocks in the picnic basket.”

      The Weewoo squawked in delight and Arethusa walked over to the picnic spread. Alpheias fluttered off her shoulder and dove head-first into the basket.

      While her Petpet distracted herself with cookies, she pulled out the small pink gift bag she had hidden in her pocket and presented it to Alpheias.

      “Here, Alphe. I got you something.”

      She placed the pink bag between them. Alpheias came out of the basket to poke the present with her feet before reaching in with her beak. The Weewoo pulled out a badge attached to a braided brown cord. She waddled back to get a better look at the badge.

      The placard inside a laminate holder was nearly identical to Arethusa’s own Neopian Times ID badge.

      A picture of Alpheias’s face stared up at them with her name written to the right of her photo. Beneath it, typed out in official writerly font was: Co-Writer.

      Happy chirps burst from the Weewoo, her eyes crinkling into a smile.

      The last of the tension that had been building up within Arethusa finally released. The Earth Faerie was right. She needed to take a step back and be with those she loved.

      Alpheias nudged Arethusa’s arm and buried her white feathered head into the Aisha’s beige fur. After a moment, she snuggled in close on Arethusa’s lap. The pair watched Arethusa’s sisters in the garden. Aphrodite raced through the rows of flowers—chased by the chaotic Darigan Mazzew in jest. Or, Arethusa believed in jest.

      Athena and her Grey Faellie walked across the bridge over the sparkling pond and Artemis flew to the treetops. She plucked fruit from branches and brought it down to her Eventide Wain.

      “Will you help me write the rest of this story?” Arethusa asked and slipped the new ID badge around Alpheias’ neck.

      Alpheias’ brow rose in question.

      “I know I said it’s dangerous, but I could really use your help.”

      Alpheias started chirping, shaking her head and using her beak to emphasise her extremely well-put critique.

      “You’re right… this isn’t the right story to be writing right now.” Arethusa leaned back and stared up at the branches. Her editor still expected a story tomorrow.

      Like most writers experience the rush of a new idea, Arethusa sat up straight with a burst of inspiration.

      “I know what I need to write!”

      The White Weewoo looked up at her in proud anticipation.

      “A guide!” Arethusa rubbed her paws together as words—really good words that would form biting sentences, might she add—formed in her mind.

      The Weewoo nodded and gave another slurry of chirps and tweets.

      “Yes! A guide to avoiding creative burnout with tips and tricks. Oh, this will be fantastic!” She continued rattling off ideas as Alpheias chimed in like any co-writer would. Arethusa dug into her bag and pulled out her notepad.

      Now, it was time to work.

      She did have a deadline after all!

     The End.