Separation Anxiety

     She did it often, especially at this hour on a lovely Sunday morning. The young yellow Kacheek readjusted herself every five seconds on the armchair, first crossing her legs, then lying on top of her tail, then leaning on the other side of the armchair.

     Her older brother Lovre watched in bemusement.

     “Don’t worry,” he said, looking disapprovingly over his copy of the Neopian Times. “She’ll be here. She’s always gets here. Eventually.”

     This had become a ritual, a tradition even, on Sundays. Gothlita would pace anxiously, even hyperventilate on a few memorable incidents, whenever her mummy was a few hours later than she promised she would (which happened nearly all the time; Lovre often noted their owner’s complete lack of keeping time).

     “But I was talking to Annie from the Pizzaroo and she told me that her friend told her that this little kid’s mummy never came home,” Gothlita wailed.

     Lovre the brown Eyrie sighed. But then he returned to his reading and tried to ignore her.

     Gothlita winced. Her older siblings never lend her their sympathy, even the first time her mummy left, so soon after she was born, where Gothlita had her first panic attack. They said something akin to, “Ok, ok, stop crying already, and here—it’s ice cream, you know, sugar, milk, and—hey, don’t throw it at the wall!” Not even Saitsiko, her sister, given her much thought, shooing her away as she returned to her cooking books. Weren’t sisters supposed to be more supportive? That’s what Gothlita always gleaned from her books.

     After the first time, Mummy took her to the hospital, where a doctor cheerfully told them that the youngest had anxiety and for only 50,000 neopoints a month they can get some pills that can relax their little darling.

     Needless to say Mummy said no.

     “If I have to deal with my anxiety,” Mummy proclaimed, “then you have to deal with your own.”

     Gothlita wasn’t handling it too well.

     “Lovre,” she whined.

     He ignored her.

     Gothlita sighed. After a few moments of deliberation she stood up and left the study room, crossing into the hall where her Turnali was chewing the leg of a table.

     She giggled. “Frankie! Saitsiko will get angry at you!”

     He looked up at her curiously before returning to his task, being a strong believer in doing his best in every undertaking.

     Gothlita left her petpet and entered the kitchen where a cloud Zafara was busying herself with cupcakes. The Zafara looked up. “Oh, hey Lita, what are you up to?” Then after assessing the younger’s expression, she sighed. “Lita, ever thought of taking up a hobby? It would probably distract you from all of this.”

     Gothlita sniffled.

     Gothlita waited for Saitsiko to say, “Hey, want to decorate these with me? Let’s bond. We’ve never really gotten to know each other ever since the owner adopted me.” And then they would be best friends forever...

     Saitsiko looked at her expectedly.

     “Yeah, I’ll think about it,” Gothlita muttered as she left the room, much to Saitsiko’s relief.

     When she reentered the hall, she could see that Saitsiko’s Quetzal had paused to watch Frankie in a disapproving way. Gothlita stomped at her. “Leave him alone,” she said.

     Frankie looked back up at her with a smile.

     Gothlita smiled back.

     She remembered fondly when her mummy first bought her the petpet. After leaving the hospital that first time, Mummy had been grumbling about “stupid medication” and “stupid doctors.” Suddenly Mummy announced, “They’re the same here as they are back where I came from. The whole lot of them, stupid, just wants money. That’s why meds are so expensive here, babe.” Then Mummy snapped her fingers as she exclaimed, “Light bulb!” and dragged Gothlita away from Neopia Central and back into their lovely home of Haunted Woods. But instead of taking their familiar trail home, she pulled the young neopet into a little cavern where a creepy Halloween Cybunny smiled menacingly at them, before showing them the row of cages that held the spooky-but-sweet petpets.

     “But why?” Gothlita asked her mummy, looking up with her wide brown eyes.

     Mummy smiled. “Because pets are way better than therapy.”

     Gothlita’s expression soon mirrored her owner’s as she glided along the cages. Along with inheriting her mother’s disconcerting restlessness, she also inherited a slightly more cheerful trait: the idea that spooky things were just as cute, if not more, than regular things. Her other siblings weren’t too fond of living in the Haunted Woods, or anything else that flourished inside it. Two characteristics and already owner and neopet were bonding. Gothlita eyed a Meepit before someone shot inside the store, grabbed it, barely paused to pay, before disappearing once more in less than two seconds. Then she turned her attention to the next cage and smiled at the bug-eyed creature. The creature smiled back.

     Lovre and Saitsiko had raised an eyebrow at her selection once they returned home. But they soon disappeared into their respective rooms with their respective hobbies.

     Now in present time Gothlita bent to scratch at Frankie’s ears. Frankie purred (or something close to it) before jumping into her arms and licking her face. Gothlita giggled.

     Stroking the petpet, she looked up at the wall clock and frowned. Half past eleven. Where was Mummy?

     Frankie licked her again, but this time she did not smile.

     Gothlita ventured into the living room, still holding Frankie, while a million thoughts swirled inside her head. What if Mummy got into an accident? What if, while riding a Uni to their house, she got struck by a bolt of lightning and was now in urgent care in the hospital? What if Dr. Sloth kidnapped her and was holding her for experiments? What if something happened to her while she was in her own planet and she never returned ever again? What if (don’t think about it don’t) she just didn’t care? What if she never loved them again?

     Tears welled up at that last thought. Oh, she hoped that never happens.

     She read enough stories about that almost daily in every issue of the Neopian Times. You would think that the only thing that happened in Neopia was neopets getting abandoned. And not only being left in the pound where they starve to death. Gothlita read stories where neopets never even realized their owners abandoned them, hanging out in a cold, empty house while they waited day after day, year after year, for their owners to come home. And the scary thing was, those stories were true, her older brother Kiki told her, one time after arriving home from his travels around Neopia. It was too common, where owners simply became older and decided that Neopia wasn’t too cool after all.

     “But Mummy would never do that,” Gothlita had interrupted suddenly.

     Kiki paused before smiling softly, his own eyes going soft and even... watery? “Of course not, kid.”

     But would Mummy do that? Mummy always did have plenty complain about Neopia, proclaiming that it was not as great as everyone makes it out to be. Late at night, when Gothlita was supposed to asleep along with the other young neopets, she would instead tiptoe back into the kitchen, where all three of her siblings were sitting with their owner.

     Mummy would sigh and say, “You wouldn’t believe what Illusen did today,” or “Never trust the Defenders of Neopia; they’re all corrupted, the lot of them.”

     And her siblings would agree with her. Kiki would nod and say, “That’s true, there was a time when I was in Terror Mountain, and everybody says it’s a nice and happy place, but it’s really not.”

     The next morning Gothlita would go up to Lovre and tell him what she heard. Lovre would sigh and say, “Don’t let it go to your head. Your mom’s just being negative as always; she always thinks of the glass as ‘half-empty’.”

     But it was just that. If Mummy didn’t like Neopia, then one day she would maybe think to herself, “Why do I bother going back there all the time? I should just not go back. Won’t make much difference.”

     Gothlita shivered when she thought of her mummy’s coldness.

     She carried her Turnali over to a petpet cushion and settled him there. He yawned and curled up, shutting his one eye (or at least the pupil and iris). She stared at her petpet before setting down on the sofa and grabbing a home decoration magazine. She managed to thoroughly distract herself with the pictures of happy families that showed off their lavishly expensive home to the photographer. The articles that filled the side columns proclaimed that with these few, simple steps you too can have a beautiful home! Gothlita’s own home was sparsely filled with run-of-the-mill furniture, barely any extra decorations. The house itself was small and lay hidden behind huge trees. The house itself was rather depressing, which of course never helped her mood.

     The front door swung open and her heart leaped for joy. Mummy was here, Mummy was finally here! A figure, hidden under a huge dark cloak, entered the foyer. Gothlita’s heart stilled for a moment. The figure pulled down the hood and grinned at her.

     “Hey, kid.”

     Gothlita’s heart promptly dropped. “Hey, Kiki.”

     The blue Zafara settled himself on the sofa next to her, pulling out a knapsack from the dark recesses of his cloak. “Got you something, close your eyes.”

     She closed her eyes rather grudgingly, but still holding out her hands expectantly. It was soon filled with something hard and cold.

     “Open.”

     She stared at the metal triangle. “What’s this?”

     “Pizza. Err, kind of, it’s called ‘metal pizza’.”

     “How am I supposed to eat it?”

     He shrugged. “Dunno. Just thought it was cool. Nifty, huh?”

     She was disappointed. Usually when Kiki came home, he would bring back some exotically good food, or a good, rare book, or even a cool toy. But this... was disappointing.

     Kiki frowned. “What’s wrong?”

     “It’s Sunday.”

     “Yes, I’ve noticed that, but—” His eyes widened. “Oh. Oh. Ok, sorry.” He looked very uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Um, I’m sure she’ll be back. Don’t worry.” He put his knapsack back into his cloak and suddenly his expression became very mischievous. “Saitsiko’s in the kitchen, right?”

     Gothlita nodded.

     Kiki giggled and crept out of the living room and down the hall. Gothlita watched in mild amusement as he presumably burst in the kitchen.

     “Koko!” she could hear him exclaim.

     It was followed by a crash and the slam of what sounded like a pan. Then everything was silent again.

     When it was silent for more than five minutes, Gothlita decided to go see what was going on. She crept to the arch that led into the kitchen and could see Kiki and Saitsiko talking quietly to each other.

     “...isn’t healthy,” Kiki’s voice said. “Most kids her age are playing with Puppyblews and being shooed away from elder faeries.”

     “Well that’s what we get for living in the Haunted Woods,” Saitsiko answered back. “I’ve been trying forever to convince the owner for us to move. Besides, she doesn’t live here, we do.” Pause. “I don’t even know how to deal with her. I’m not good with children.”

     “Me either. Lovre isn’t good at all, he gets annoyed too often.”

     “I wonder why.” Before Kiki could retort, Saitsiko’s voice sighed. “We need to talk to her about this, though. Happens way too often. I know she got her that Turnali, but not everything’s going to be fixed with toys.”

     Kiki was about to respond, but at that second he noticed Gothlita hiding in the hallway. “Kid, watcha doin’ there?” He walked towards her and patted her head. “Wanna go to Neovia? I can buy you a book there. And we can have lunch and not have to taste Koko’s awful cooking.”

     Another pan was thrown in his direction but this time he managed to dodge, giggling again. He took her paw and led her out of the house, yelling over his shoulder that they’ll be back. Eventually.

     A few streaks of sunlight managed to pass through the dense trees and light their trail. Passing the time, Kiki told her an incident about Ilere involving the NC Mall. They both were giggling as they arrived at the small town.

     They hanged about there for nearly two hours before Gothlita pestered him to return home, worried that if Mummy arrived there and didn’t see her, that she would leave almost at once. It was a stupid worry, but it was still a worry.

     But Mummy wasn’t there when they arrived. Gothlita lost all interest in her Neovian biscuits as she paced across the foyer, eyeing the clock. Kiki watched her for a while before saying it would be best if she lay down a bit. “When you wake up, Mum will be here,” he assured her. He took her to her bedroom and tucked her in, kissing the top of her head. Frankie tiptoed into the room and climbed on the bed, curling up by her side. She slowly relaxed and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.

     It wasn’t until seven when she woke up, the few strands of sunlight that lit up the trails disappearing. Groggy, she rubbed her eyes, soundlessly yawning. She poked Frankie into consciousness and he mirrored her earlier motions, albeit with one eye.

     The house was eerily silent. Well, that was not to say that the house and its surrounding area weren’t usually eerily silent; it was simply that it was more than the norm. The Kacheek shivered as she climbed off of the high bed, Frankie following close behind. They walked down the hall, lights dimmed to almost the point of no existence. Cold air wafted and settled on her fur and sank deeper. “Mummy?” she called. “Lovre? Saitsiko? Kiki?”

     Completely quiet.

     Her heart started to race again. What if they all abandoned her? What if they never wanted her in the first place? She always overheard them talk about how they couldn’t relate to her, how they had no idea how to raise her. What if they just abandoned her?

     “Mummy,” she whimpered.

     And she collapsed in the middle of the living room, silently crying.

     Frankie looked at its owner curiously. Why was she crying? Especially now that it was nearly completely dark, he could make out four distinct shapes in the window, talking quietly. He walked over to her, poked her, and gave her a big grin.

     “Not now, Frankie.”

     He nudged her again and nodded over at the front door’s direction.

     “I... I don’t get it.”

     He grabbed at her paw and walked over to the door, scratching at it.

     “So you want to leave me too!” she wailed.

     At this sudden loud noise, the people outside stopped talking and glanced at Gothlita’s direction. Very pleased with himself, Frankie waddled back towards her and plopped down on the ground.

     The front door swung open and Gothlita gasped.

     “Mummy!” she exclaimed, running into the arms of a confused but smiling human girl. “Mummy, I thought you would never come back an’ that you were killed an’ that you din’ wanna see me an’—”

     The owner laughed. “Your imagination has been getting the best of you again.”

     “Why were you late? You said you’d be here at ten in the morning, it’s really late now!”

     The girl looked very guilty. “Sorry about that, it was just, um, silly human endeavors.”

     Kiki snickered. “You were procrastinating on school projects again, weren’t you?”

     The owner shot him a death glare.

     “What’s school?” the Kacheek asked innocently.

     “Nothing, my dear, nothing. Come on, you want me to read you a story?” All five of them walked to the study room, where the owner pulled a book from one of the shelves. Gothlita cuddled closer as her mummy’s voice filled the air.

     Everything was better now. Her mummy was back, her mummy was holding her. All worries and qualms of her mother never coming back were gone. Life was good.

     Until next Sunday, of course.

The End