My Best Friend

     Normally, dear reader, I would skip over mentioning what she was reading, but the book happens to be a part of the story, later on. Gruundo is her favourite band, after all.

     As she was devouring the cheaply-bound pages of the book, I sat by the Shoyru’s bed on her desk, content to be with my best friend.

     Still, I waited, anticipating something to happen, soon.

     Suddenly, a pathetic cry could be heard from below, and Misty shot up from her cosy pile of blankets. She gripped the book in her hand, prepared, and bolted, although ever so gracefully, toward the door to the hallway.

     “Hello?” I heard the Shoyru inquire.

     Another cry, this time with words: “I think your toilet’s possessed!”

     The brown floorboards squeaked as Misty sighed.

     “Hess, it’s probably just clogged again,” she shouted as she rushed downstairs, past the old, wooden stairway. “It’s an old toilet.”

     At this point in time, I let my soul slowly drift through the tattered carpet and down to the newly-updated kitchen. A Purple Xweetok sat at the marbled counter, drinking the end of a bright pink slushie she likely picked up on her way home from dance practice, with her obnoxiously red headphones on. She paused to take them off while Misty opened the door to the next level down.

     “Is everything okay?” the Xweetok inquired. She took another slurp of the slushie through a large straw.

     “It’s the toilet, May. Again.”

     May giggled with her mouth full and put her headphones back over her massive ears, jamming to pop music.

     So, dear reader, I followed behind Misty, who grumbled some obscenity at her cousin, and closed the door behind her. As she made her way to the basement, the Shoyru seemed to notice the sound of creaking water pipes.

     “Mist? Is that you?” a pathetic whine came from behind the stairs. She turned the corner of the dimly lit entry and cursed again as water leaked into her socks.

     From the bathroom opening, Misty saw her friend Hess, a White Grundo, who was holding a piece of metal, which one can assume had been attached to the back of the toilet.

     There was water everywhere.

     An uncomfortable silence filled the room, minus the sound of running water. Misty glared daggers at the Grundo.

     Moments passed, and with many apologetic exclamations of “I’m so sorry” from Hess included, the chipped, porcelain toilet was fixed. The two of them cleaned up the remaining water, with Misty doing most of the work with her magic.

     “You’re really lucky I can move water,” Misty mumbled, washing her hands in the white, crooked sink. She turned to her friend, who was hovering over the toilet, tightening rusty screws. “Why were you trying to fix the clogging issue the toilet has anyway?”

     The Grundo grinned, sheepishly wringing his hands in anxiety. “I’ve done it before on other toilets, but I didn’t expect the toilet to be so… finicky.” His face then contorted into a frown. “I wanted to be a good roommate. Considering you and your family are letting me stay here rent-free until I can move out. You know?”

     You see, dear reader, as much as I know Misty and her temper well, occasionally she’ll surprise me with an action that seems out-of-character. Usually, those actions are her softer side, which she keeps locked away for family and very close friends.

     I hadn’t considered Hess to be a close friend of hers until that moment; from what I’ve gathered from their conversations, they met at their place of employment.

     But because she hugged him, I began to have doubts.

     This apparently shocked Hess as well, but eventually he melted into the warm embrace of his friend and returned the favour, clinging on to her as he began to cry gently.

     Moments passed as he sniffled against her wings, wiping away tears.

     “Thanks, Mist,” he eventually mumbled with damp eyes.

     “Don’t mention it.” She replied, stepping out of the hug, awkwardly. Her face was slightly flushed with embarrassment, and she wouldn’t meet his eyes. However, that caused her to face another dilemma.

     On the ground, sopping wet, laid the copy of the autobiography Misty was reading.

     The signed copy.

     There was more silence.

     “...You owe me a new copy of that, though,” the Shoyru eventually got out, face going bright red while she was straining against her own fury.

     “Fair.”

     I drifted upstairs back into Misty’s room, confused and feeling helpless, where a Water Gelert was vacuuming. He spared me a glance as I floated into the well-loved Poogle plushie on Misty’s desk.

     “You know,” he began. “I think you’re wrong about Hess. I think he’ll be a good addition to the house. You don’t need my help kicking him out, especially if it includes wasting water.”

     I shuffled anxiously from within the plushie. I hadn’t considered being wrong, but I didn’t want the Gelert to know I was still reeling from the event I had witnessed. I felt like I needed to mourn.

     “Time will tell, Percy,” I replied, my sour opinion of Hess apparent by the tone of my speech.

     He shrugged and continued to vacuum the floor.

     Later, past dinnertime, Misty returned to her room, happiness on her face. The weather had turned from foul to fair, and the light of the now-setting sun shone down onto the fabric I inhabited.

     The Shoyru smiled softly at me, although unaware of my presence, and sat down at her writing desk. She stared at the wall, where her bulletin board was, which was covered by family photos and contact information for work.

     Eventually, a yawn emitted from her mouth and she stretched her wings. Misty then turned her new messaging system from Virtupets on with a press of a button and waited.

     For a while, dear reader, I did not pay attention to what she was doing on the messaging system. A few hours passed, and suddenly Misty began typing what I assumed to be a Neomail message.

     My soul floated just close enough to see what the message contained, and I was shocked by the results:

     Hello! My name is Misty and I think I might need my house to be cleaned and swept. What time are your exorcists available this week to check it out? My address is below and attached to the form I needed to fill out.

     Regards,

     Misty Ten

     Needless to say, I hid in the smelly, wet garage for the majority of the exorcism that occurred the following day, resting my tired, weary soul in a box of torn-up fashion magazines. Percy, unfortunately, took no sympathy from me, and I waited for the exorcists to leave, defeated.

     “Oh, my dear, silly, Misty”, I remember moaning as I watched her help Hess bring more of his things downstairs.

     But then I remembered how I became her best friend, and my sadness faltered; Misty’s softness was showing, just as it did when she was young.

     And, dear reader, I guess I could get used to that.

     The End.