Somebody Loved Me

      The pound isn't dark or scary, it's just lonely. Cages in a row, side by side, as people and neopets walk down the hall inspecting each pound mate, then moving on. No pound pet talks to another. What would we say? "Sorry you got pounded, sorry you were abandoned, sorry you probably won't see your family again. Sorry." There wouldn't be any friends in the pound; there would just be sob stories and longing. So no one talks. I like it that way; the quiet is comforting.

      I've been in the pound for a long time, longer than most pound pets. The faces in the cages across mine always change, sometimes they stay for a good chunk of time, but in the end they fade. I always remain. No one really glances at a Tuskaninny, a blue Tuskaninny that just kind of fades into the atmosphere of the pound. My name isn't anything to get excited about, Trevin223456789. I'm not even sure if those are the right numbers, I forget. I just know my name is Trevin followed by numbers, and those numbers condemn me as a badly named basic pet.

      My owner, whoever they were, they loved me. They loved Tuskaninnies, they thought blue was a pretty color, they loved my name, even with all the numbers. They picked my name out themselves, they scooped me up and brought me home. It's blurry, but I think I was their first and only neopet. Just me and them.

      I don't remember why I'm in the pound; I don't remember how long my owner and I were together. I don't know why they left, I don't know if they are still in Neopia or if they are gone far away. I don't know and I don't care. I know all I need to, they loved me. They loved me with all their heart, and that is what keeps me going here in the darkness.

      I wasn't always like this; there was a time when I waited patiently for someone to adopt me. The pound is cruel. They looked at me, and turned away. They saw my name on the clipboard hanging from my cell and walk away. I wasn't even worth being zapped as a lab pet. I've heard the chatter of the people and of their neopets, most basics go to the secret laboratory to be experimented on, hopefully gained a new color. My name prevented me for even getting adopted for that reason. Once it was because of the people wanting to adopt the pets out or keep them for themselves, and a bad name hindered that, now it's for trade purposes. Yes, I've been here that long that I've seen the change. It doesn't affect me, not anymore.

      I would stare hopefully at the owners, hoping they would take me home and love me, just like my owner had. I wasn't worth loving. No one cared, no one would love me. Some of the other pound pets would whisper to me at night, "Keep your chin up, someday someone is going to want you!" I watch basics getting adopted by kind hearted young owners who didn't know about the worth of a neopet, or by an owner who didn't care either way. I wasn't lucky to take the fancy of those people. I don't know why, I asked that question to myself a thousand times.

      I cried at first, I was alone and scared and I just wanted someone, anyone, to come and take me away from here. I watched so many others being rescued why wasn't I? What did I do wrong?

      I sank deeper and deeper into sorrow. I was a lost little neopet crying out for help and no one saved me. Then I remembered. I remembered someone long ago, I remembered before. I remembered my owner. Well, at least my owner's love. I clung on to it, sealed it away in my heart, and then I survived. It's what I do, I survive. I'm not sad anymore, I'm not lost. I have all I need. Someone a long time ago loved me.

      The days all blur together in the pound. You forget what day it is, what year it is, if it's summer or winter. Time is an odd concept in the pound.

      Today the pound is busy, people crowding down the halls, in search of painted pets, rare species, and good names. I watch them go, bored. Not my concern.

      Sometimes someone will stop by, smile at me, but then keep going. It's a rare occurrence; it used to be what kept me going, now it's just something that break up the monotony.

      This was different.

      A small Buzz, colored blue just like me, stopped at my cage.

      "Hi, what's your name?" he asked cheerfully, ignoring the bustle of people moving behind him.

      "Tevrin plus some numbers," I told him, wondering why he was even bothering to ask.

      "My name's Peter_Andrew_009," he proudly declared. "Isn't it a nice name? Most people call me Peter, though!"

      "Hello, Peter," I greeted, not sure what I was supposed to say.

      "My mommy says I'm going to get a brother or sister today!" he told me, a giant smile on his face.

      "That's good," I said kindly, trying not to hurt his feelings.

      "My mommy is off looking for my brother or sister right now! I can't wait." He beamed, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet.

      "Well, I hope you three have a good life," I said sincerely. A pound pet would get a home and Peter would get a sibling; it was a nice happy situation.

      "How long have you been here?" he suddenly asked.

      "A while..." I said slowly, a bit shocked by his question.

      "Are you sad?" Peter asked, tilting his head.

      "No..." I said firmly.

      Then Peter started crying. I wasn't sure what to do. I put my flipper through the bar of my cage and patted him on the head.

      "Are you ok?" I asked, concerned.

      "N-n...o. I miss my... m... mommy," he sobbed.

      "She's coming back!" I assured him, quickly glancing around, willing his mother to show up.

      "No... not... not her, my first mommy; she left me here. Why did she leave me here? If my second mommy didn't come and save me... I would have been here forever!" he balled, clinging onto my flipper.

      "Your first mommy... she loved you. Things happen, Peter. But don't be sad, you still have her memory, the knowledge that she did love you! And now you have a new mommy, who loves you very much, so much she's getting you a sibling. It's ok, Peter, it's ok." I tried my best to comfort him, but I knew I wasn't the best at comforting.

      He sniffed and looked up at me with water stained eyes.

      "Did your owner love you?" he asked softly.

      "Yes, they loved me very much," I said, my voice shaking.

      "I love you!" Peter chirped, hugging my flipper.

      "T-thank you," I mumbled, so confused. I felt my face getting wet.

      "I got to go," he whispered letting go of my flipper. "My mommy told me to meet her at the front desk. Trevin.... I'm going to see you again, ok?"

      "Ok," I murmured. I watched him leave.

      I went to the corner of my cage and flopped there, sobbing.

      My owner loved me.

      And Peter loved me. Peter was alone and scared in the pound; someone saved him. And he came to me, he reached out to me. And he's going to come back. It doesn't matter if he convinces his mother to adopt me, that doesn't matter. It matters he loves me. I think I love him. I want to see him again, and talk to him. I want to feel happy and sad; I want a little Buzz to hold my flipper and talk away, chatting about nothing, being excited about everything.

      A long time ago somebody loved me.

      I don't know if they even remember me, but I know that a little Buzz named Peter_Andrew_009 loves me, and he remembers me.

      I'm not waiting in a pound as the days blur together anymore, feeling nothing but numb. I feel happy when I think about Peter. I am happy.

      I am loved, and I love back.

The End