I'm BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK.

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It’s been a while. Stride stayed on the balcony until Viran finally came back and he got the call. He walked through the room, ignoring the girl, stopped and sighed when he reached the door, and walked through. He walked down, heading towards the next step that would get them off the island and away from that torturous pain. He didn’t hate her, no no, he hated nothing that had to do with her as a person, except maybe that she could be a bit depressing at times. What he hated was her face, hated the fact that she resembled Rachelle in most every way physically, even down to the gentle yet firm grip of her hand.

She sat on the bed, thinking. Thinking. Thinking about her life. Thinking about people she’d been assigned to rooming with before. He wasn’t ridiculously unique in terms of his character, so why did something about him… or, rather, his particular pain, ring through her?

Familiarity in pain is something few strangers can say they share. What’s more, empathy between two strangers, when one of them hasn’t experienced the tragedy themself, is almost unheard of. Stride was bothered by her photo-esque likeness to Rachelle, a girl whom this servant had never met. She could feel it, though, seeing the face of a loved one but knowing that… it isn’t them. She never experienced it, but she knew. She didn’t love anyone, and yet she knew.

She moved her hand to her mouth, about to bite her nails. She heard the door click, meaning that the key had just been used and that someone was coming in. In walked Argent, peeking his head in to look around.

“Wow, and I thought he was just delusional. You really do look like that hobo. Oh, and same habit, too. Nail biting was always a problem that girl had,” Argent said, stepping in and closing the door behind him. There was nothing but silence.

“Hey, he wasn’t kidding, you are depressing.” Argent walked toward the balcony, motioning for her to follow.

“You need to realize that, when dealing with Stride, if he acts overly nice or chivalrous, it’s most likely no reflection on you, but his old girlfriend. Oh, by the way, nice one earlier, kissing him and all. That was probably the most amazing story ever, a depressing girl that, between either not talking or telling a story of horrible treatment, kisses someone she just met then hides away. Simply amazing,” Argent added.

“Who are you?” she finally asked, not looking at him.

“Aww, Stride never mentioned me? He relies more on me for favors than anyone else, even Ri.” Argent looked disappointed.

“Favors?” she asked.

“Yeah, see, he asked me if I would make sure you know that he honestly feels really freaking sorry for you and doesn’t hate you. Well, that’s all he asked me to say, but I plan on saying a bit more…” Argent said, forming a few balls out of the metal on the window panes and juggling them.

“Stride tends to keep to himself more, which is why he needed a girl like Rachelle. With her, he could express himself without worrying about being looked down on or anything, and I think that’s why he has a thing for somewhat attractive urchins. A guy like him probably has a few insecurities that he keeps hidden with a tough guy façade. Rachelle, I think he might’ve really fallen in love with if it kept going… Her death drove him out.” He said, continuing his juggling.

“You know what he said to me after the funeral? He said, ‘It’s strange. I don’t think I’ve shed a single tear since I first saw her dead.’ That’s probably the closest he’s come to opening up to anyone else.” When he finished, he caught two of the metal balls in his hands and one in his mouth.

“Why are you telling me this?”

Argent looked at her with a sneaky look, then spat out the ball and returned them to their rightful place before finally answering.

“When you kissed him, he was pissed. I’d give anything to see that look again, and with this, you just might be able to do it again. He can’t hurt you, and as long as I’m not the next one to annoy him, I’ll be fine.” Argent turned to walk away.

“Why can’t he hurt me?” This was a curious point.

“Because, you look like her. That’s the answer to a lot of the ‘why’s and ‘why not’s you might have, because you look like Rachelle. Later.”

“Oh, and one more thing,” Argent said, turning right before opening the door, “He also asked me to destroy the camera. It’s been crumpled up, so as long as they don’t notice or care, it won’t matter what happens in this room… wink wink…” Argent said, leaving the room.

So, she wondered, what of this? What’s this guy planning? Is he going to… No, does he care? Does he care? Does he care? She pondered this the entire time, not moving. Until he came back, that is, just over two hours later.

Stride walked over to the other bed and sat opposite the girl.

“You find your criminal?” She asked.

“No. He wasn’t a criminal.” Stride responded.

“So, what was he?”

Stride didn’t respond. Minutes passed, before he said something.

“Listen, I… was thinking about something. Your life here so far has been crap, and from the looks of it, after we leave, it’ll stay that way for the rest of your life. So, tell me, would you want to leave this place, leave this island, for good?” His question was shocking.

“What brought this change of heart? I… I don’t want to be treated with pity just because I look like someone that’s dead.”

“No one deserves a life like this. Come with us.” Stride said.

“You didn’t want anything to do with me earlier, so why should I assume I’d be treated any better?” She said, finally getting emotion.

“Because a very unfortunate man has asked me to care for you, that’s why!” Stride half yelled, trying to keep her from responding like she was.

“… What?” she responded, confused.

“He asked me, personally, to take care of you. Whether I like you or not is irrelevant. I gave him my word.”

“Why give him your word if you don’t like me?” she asked.

“At the time, I guess it may have had to do with the nice little sharp-shot pistol he was holding, but he wasn’t pointing it at me when he asked. I guess it’s because he wanted it, and was incapable of getting anything else he wanted.” Stride shrugged.

“Why have your friend destroy the camera?”

“Damn you ask a lot of questions. I hate being watched by the sort of guy that would beat his servants.”

“You sure know how to dance around the truth, don’t you?” she said, falling back on her bed.

“You sure know how to come up with a lot of questions.” Stride quipped, taking off the silly coat.

“Besides,” Stride began, “we can always just make a new room back home.”

“Tell the full truth this time. Are you doing this because you think I look like that girl, even a little?”

Stride stared at her for a minute before answering. “Honestly, I don’t think, you do look like her. And no, that’s not why. You remind me of her. Same hopeless person, unable to look to hope anymore, and my favorite thing to do for people is bring hope back into their live-ACK!” Stride suddenly fell off the bed onto the floor, clutching his side. He had a small burn their, as if he’d been tasered. He passed out almost instantly.


“Stride, was it because of pity entirely that you took me in?”
“Not entirely. I knew when I saw you that you were desperate. At the time, I was just trying to be a good person.”
“Like I believe that…”
“It turned out for the better, didn’t it?”
“I suppose you’re right.”
“What’s the problem?”
“Well, you’re not very honest when it comes to personal questions. Especially when they use the words ‘why did you’.”
“It’s how I am around other people, and at first, to you. But… as time’s gone on, I’ve been nothing if not honest to you.”
“You like me, don’t you?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
“If that’s so, then why didn’t you help me when I needed you?”
“What?”
“That punk with a knife stabbed and cut me until I was barely recognizable as a person and left me to die, and you could’ve stopped it if you’d gone with me, or had just handed over the weapon and money.”
“Rachelle…”
“You can’t even protect this one girl from death, why should you be allowed to go on?”
He watched her go on. He watched her march into eternity, leaving him be, never turning back, never again to see.

“Rachelle, I’m sorry…”

“Rachelle, I… let you die.”

“Rachelle…”

“Rachelle, Rachelle, Rachelle, you really need to get over it.” Stride heard a voice, but everything was still black. His vision started coming back, and he discovered that he was still in the hotel room, but in the bed with the covers up to his neck. Fully clothed, I assure you.

Looking over, he found out the voice was from Viran. He had been going to his room when the servant grabbed him and brought him in to help Stride. The stun from before, in the cave, had one lasting aftershock that had just affected him, partially held off by the fabrics in his coat.

“So, say I do get over it. Then what? Do I just accept that I caused someone to die?” Stride asked.

“No, you don’t, because you didn’t cause her death. It’s a perfectly natural thing for a person to assume responsibility for something like that when they were the last one to speak with the person. She got unlucky, caught near the wrong alley at the wrong time. Nothing to do with you. You’re not a dumb person, so stop saying dumb things!” Viran said, poking Stride in the stomach.

“I hate seeing people keep themselves miserable. How long is it going to be before you get better?” Viran left the room.

“I’m guessing you’re still there?” Stride said, assuming the girl wasn’t too far away.

“Yes.” She said.

“You know, if you don’t mind, I think I have an idea of what I can call you. How about it, wanna hear?” Stride asked.

“Your choice, not mine.”

“Oh, come off it… I was thinking of a good name, and I like this one for you, so there. I’ll be calling you Pearl.” Stride said.

“… Pearl…” She repeated, trying to adjust to the feeling of having a real name from someone.

“Pearls are hard to come by, and not too shabby to look at, either. That’s one way of thinking about it.”

“And?”

“And… You’re getting more out of me than the other guys would. You remind me too much of Rachelle, so to respect both of our wishes to see you as a completely different person, you’ll have a completely different name. Understand?”

Stride rested that night. He would ask the others in the morning if it was fine with them that they bring her back, and then, he would ask the manager. If he said no while they said yes, he’d probably bring her anyway, but if he said yes, it would be that much easier. Like her or not, Stride would care for her, as promised before. The only question that’ll be left after that is whether or not he does like her.

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Trust me, it’ll all be clear later on. Skipping the exploration of the cave is fully intentional.

Before I write the next update, I want to go ahead and tell you all that nearly every single thing I have composed here has been from the heart, every little saying at the beginnings of these sections is something I either believe or believed when I wrote it, and I hope that if I ever finish this story, I can use those as lessons and give this a parable-like element, and I hope to have this published in some way, shape, or form in the distant future.

And so, I have this to say: If you have a dream that's worth following, follow Mr. Smith's advice and go for it. Period. My dream is to be successful in the arts industry in some way, be it writing or music. BA/Dusk Golem's dream and Three60's dream, and correct me if I am wrong, is to start a true business and live out not only the American dream, but to become recognizable for their work on projects that really matter to them as gamers and developers. My brother-in-law also wants to own a business, and has started, so he is well on his way to accomplishing his goal and achieving said dream, which will mean that the problems he and my sister have had throughout their marriage thusfar will have been worth it, the main one being him leaving so often to run it.

My uncle started a restaurant in Mississippi (Reddick's, IIRC) and thusfar, has used the culinary expertise passed down from my grandfather and grandmother along with his wife's Vietnamese heritage to become fairly successful. At 50, he has lived a life of hardship, having divorced his first wife and lost the woman that would have been his second were it not for terminal cancer, having his heart broken twice. Of everyone in my family, I think I admire him the most.

My mother has been a dog groomer/breeder for the better part of five or six years, now, and is the only breeder in this portion of the country to have Alaskan Klee Kai, selling them at roughly $1600 a puppy, one even being sold for $2000, and averaging about 4 puppies per litter. The latest had 3, all very healthy and downright adorable, and she owns the female that has had the largest living litter on record, 7 if I remember right. On top of that, she's been staying with her mother as she recovers from surgery to remove cancer and has raised three children, myself being the youngest and the least problem-causing. My dad is her second husband, her first having died last year after leaving her when she miscarriaged many years ago, and he never called or gave any explanation other than "I don't want to be married anymore."

My brother is the final part of this long "final thing", and you know what? He screwed up his life despite a 31 on his ACT with a 1.5 GPA his senior year, and ruined his chances of living out any ambitions he may have had, and you know what? Every chance he gets, he supports me, tells me to go for my dreams, and says that he's proud of me and is disappointed with what he's done. Of all in my family, I look up to him as probably a good role model in regards to the fact that he has taken one of the biggest negatives you can get in life and turned it into something he's learned from, and by extension, I've learned from, and made sure his little brother wouldn't go down that path. I've always loved my sister, but it wasn't until late in high school for him that I started to really grow closer to him, and honestly, I'm not sure why. I love my brother, and don't think I could've asked for a better one.

I don't usually like to get personal with anyone, especially strangers reading a message board, but understand that I understand what it means to move forward. It isn't about looking past, it's about looking beyond. It's something that I wish I understood sooner, and something that Stride doesn't at all. Even with all the annoyances, all the people I've expressed dislike for, all the people I dismiss, anyone I see as not worth the trouble, I can't deny that I care about you all. That is all, and I will be updating within the next few days.

Good luck, man.

I hope this hasn't died, it's been fun to read.

I'll try to update over the holidays. I really can't write when I don't feel like it though.