The Second Interview

     I open my eyes with a start. The imaginary voice in my head has been there for some time now, and I just can't stand it anymore. Groggily, I roll out of bed and fall to the floor. The sound makes my plushie Miamouse, Stitches, wake up, and for a second I feel sorry. But then she closes her eyes and breathes evenly again, so I can't say that feeling lasts for long.

     I look up at the mirror, and my hair is a mess. I quickly brush it, untangling the knots and rearranging the curls. Once I'm done with that, I put on my flower crown, woven of faux daisies, twigs, and leaves. I grab my wand and run to the kitchen, preparing for what I'll see.

     I almost faint, but I know I expected it to be this way. The kitchen is a huge mess - frosting everywhere, broken cookies on the floor, and even icing shaped like streamers strewn on the cabinets. And there, in the middle of all that mess, is Buttons the Breebly. He's trying to mop up some of the batter, but to no avail, due to his tiny size.

     "Aw, come here, you little Petpetpet," I say, outstretching my hands. Relieved, Buttons hops onto my palm, and I shoo him towards my room. "You deserve some rest, unlike lazy Stitches."

     After that's taken care of, I get to work. I wipe the counters clean and sweep away the crumbs. I scrape all the frosting off of the floorboards, and pick up the huge chunks of food. I clean my baking equipment and rearrange the contents of the cabinets.

     "And all with no magic. This was my first year baking for Neopia's anniversary, and I think it'll be my last," I say to myself, wiping the sweat off my forehead with a towel.

     Then, I hear a knock at the door. That's strange, since I rarely ever got any visitors. Pushing the curtains slightly aside, I gasp as I see a baby Aisha standing on the other side. And not just any baby Aisha - a male baby Aisha with a Faellie hoodie and green pyjamas, carrying a Faellie plushie I've never seen before. He must like Faellies.

     Long story short, I met him many months ago, and it was a disaster. He and his owner came for an interview, but eventually, he just trailed off. I found him in my vault, and there he was, just munching on my desserts. After that, I totally panicked and freaked out, scaring him and his owner away. I'm not sure if I should be angry or embarrassed, but out of all people, why him?

     The knocking doesn't stop, so I sigh and open the door. He doesn't seem shocked to see me at all; he just runs in and stomps all over the floor with his muddy feet.

     "Hey! What are you doing, and how did you accumulate so much mud? There are no puddles out there!"

     He looks at me, confused. "It was raining."

     I look out the window, and sure enough, it was. I probably got lost in my thoughts, and the rain probably started when my mind was beginning to cloud.

     "Still," I say, regaining my composure. "Use the doormat."

     "Sorry." He stomps on the mat, but mud still splatters everywhere else. I sigh again - another thing I'll have to clean up.

     "Anyway," I say, turning away, aware of the drops flying against my dress. Well, I needed a bigger one anyway. "What are you doing here?"

     "I got lost. Separated from my owner."

     "And ended up here? How?"

     "Dunno."

     "So clueless." But even as I say that, I wave my hand, and he follows me to the kitchen. There, after I prepare the strawberry milkshakes and vanilla cupcakes, we climb up onto stools. We just sit quietly - I stare out at the rain pattering against the window, and listen to the crackling of the fireplace. I look over to the other Aisha and see that he has finished his milkshake.

     "So," I say, nudging my glass towards him. He hastily takes it. "What's your name?"

     "You don't remember?" Somehow, he's managing to sip the straw and talk at the same time.

     "No, was I supposed to?"

     "Yes, you're the Birthday Aisha."

     Correct, indeed. But I do remember his name - Bloppyditto. Bloppy was his nickname, wasn't it? But with that conversation starter gone...

     "What do you do here, when it's not sunny outside?"

     Well, thank goodness for that question. "Um... not much, really. I bake, attend birthday parties, and play with my Petpet and Petpetpet." I realize how boring my life sounds, and immediately turn self-conscious.

     "That's cool. I don't go outside much, actually. I just hang around the huge room my owner built for me, rolling around in cool blankets and playing with my plushies. I have some books, but can't read yet."

     "Oh."

     More silence. I blurt something out, and then immediately regret it. "What's your favorite color?"

     "Blue. Light blue, like my skin, blankets, and walls. What about you?"

     "Pink. Soft pink, like on my dress and the hearts on the wallpaper." It feels as if some weight has been lifted off my chest, as if I were sharing secrets with a close friend. How strange.

     "What about your favorite food? I love pancakes with lots of syrup, and just a smatter of butter."

     I laugh out loud. How atrocious! But in a good way. Out of all these sweets, and he expects me to choose? "Um. Maybe meringue cookies. I have such a soft spot for them, seeing as they were my mother's specialty."

     Wait a second. I never even thought that was my favorite food - cupcakes were the best, weren't they? But I certainly remember the meringue cookies, and how the sweet smell wafted through the kitchen, as Mom hummed and cut fun shapes out of them...

     "What about your favorite drink?"

     "Milkshakes."

     "Fruit smoothies!"

     "Favorite book?"

     "I can barely read!"

     "I'm terrible, too!"

     "Hmm, what about the best birthday party you've ever been to?"

     "Well, let me tell you about one very silly birthday..."

     This goes on for hours, until both Bloppy and I are laughing our guts out. It's not until the dark clouds clear out and I see Bloppy's owner standing at the door that I realize we've been going at this for quite a long time.

     "Oh, I'm sorry! Did I keep you waiting for Bloppy?"

     "Haha, no." Bloppy's owner manages a light laugh, and runs a hand through her hair. She looks nervous, for some strange reason. Then I remember the last time she saw me, when my mouth was foaming with rage. "I'm the only one that calls him Bloppy. You two must be very close."

     Ah. That must be it. Maybe Bloppy had friendship issues or problems making new friends, and his owner was just worried. But instead of apologizing, I feel myself blushing.

     "Come on, Bloppy. Let's go home." Bloppy frowns, but I see his owner smiling at me. She winks, and in an instant, both of them are out the door and heading home.

     Sweete, you're fun when you open up. Maybe you should do it more.

     There it is, that imaginary voice again. But this time, it's right. I've never felt so free and outgoing until I've had this conversation with Bloppy. Not a conversation, but a real interview.

     I smile to myself. It wasn't a birthday I celebrated, but whatever it was... mission accomplished.

The End