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“I GET IT!!!” The blue number pleaded one last time, trying to keep some semblance of sanity. “You’re mad at me, but you’re-”.
“Bye, Four.”.
With one shimmering, sapphire hand raised, she let out a jet of the number's own power right onto him.
ZAP!!!
She watched him fall, eyes wide in despair and mouth agape in shock. The flash from the zap had rendered him partially blind, but also made her own sight a little foggy and woozy.
By the time she could see clearly again, he had already disappeared far below. The darkness of the dead skies made everything on ground level look like a hazy fog, so there could be no telling where Four had landed.
Not like she cared.
Right now….Right now, she felt so good.
She’d done it.
She’d avenged herself for those six years of life in that stupid classroom. She’d won the challenge without anyone else.
No matter if the alliance she once knew and loved and broken apart and barely existed anymore. No matter if her old friends here on this stupid show hated her. No matter if she had been at the lowest she had ever been in her life just a few hours ago.
She alone had won.
She alone had done this.
She alone had….She…
Her smile dropped.
Oh, who was Pencil kidding?
She was still alone. She still didn’t have Book, or Icy, or Ruby, or Bubble, or…or….
Or Match.
“Oh.”.
Her heart skipped a beat. It skipped several beats. The power in her palms responded to her mood, flashing in soft flickers like fresh Christmas lights. Her lips curled, and her eyes twitched.
Match…
She huffed. She had power now. What did it matter if nobody was here?
Pencil didn’t need to have someone. Pencil didn’t need to be a leader, or a partner, or a friend. She doesn’t NEED any of that.
She didn’t need to be wanted.
Holding out her hand the way she’d seen Four do countless times before, she focused. Her mind ran through everyone she knew who died today, cycling through who would be best to revive.
Book? No, she hated her. Pencil didn’t want to talk to someone who hated her.
Tennis Ball? Well, she didn’t know if he was dead, AND she didn’t care too much about him.
Putting a bright, lime finger to her lips, she ran through all her options.
The idea came out of her cobalt palm as it came into her mind.
Brr!!! Dada dada, dada da-
SHATTER!!!
Before the silly little jingle of revival had played out, the soft, ghostly form of Liy broke apart. The girl was manifested, but only as a pile of light switch material. The limbs and face hadn’t even formed.
That wasn’t Liy. That was a large light switch that had been broken before it could form into a being. It was a waste.
“Hmmph!” She groaned, sending her limp arm sweeping through the air. A heavy gust of wind followed her direction, sending the debris down to the ground.
She had seen it done hundreds of times. She knew how it went. Four puts his hand out, the little jingle plays, and out from Four’s hand comes a revived person.
She tried again.
Brr!!! Dada da-
FLASH!!!
This time, the rendered body didn’t even become physical. It blew away in the air like a birthday candle.
“Ugh, not again!” She moaned, clenching her fist. Why was this so hard?
Why was everything so hard?
Why had her life become so hard?
“Hey!”.
She jumped, blue arm already poised and firing.
ZAP!!!!
A bright white laser cut through the tiles of the roof, leaving char marks across the surface.
No, it couldn’t be. She had heard wrong.
Pencil MUST have heard wrong.
With fear and desire both residing in her heart, she took a step forward. She was going to run.
She-
“Pence Pence.”.
Her body could not move. Her mouth hung open and agape. Her eyes widened like black holes.
The voice….The cheery warmth….The casual, amicable flow of words off the tip of a tongue…
With the same struggle that you’d find if you tried to grind blocks of cement into a powder by hand, Pencil creaked her head back to catch a glimpse.
“Long time no see.”.
Vermillion sulphur head, coarse and rough. Light aspen wood, with little dark specks lining her body. A face full of fun, friendliness and absolute fearlessness.
“A fake?” She wondered, stone still in her tracks.
“A dream?” She guessed, lip quivering.
Hazel eyes, warmer than a campfire. Hazel eyes, brighter than stars. Eyes with a little cobalt glint within them, like crystals.
“No, it-It really is.” She realised, gasping. A flood of emotion ran through her, filling her mind, her lungs, her stomach, her bones and…
And her heart.
“It’s really her!”.
Pencil’s mouth widened into an open-mouthed smile. She couldn’t say a word, but she had so much she wanted to say.
“I missed you.”.
“Oh my lead, I thought I lost you.”.
“Is that really you?”.
“I love yo-”.
Snap!
With a snap of her fingers, the scenery around the redhead changed. The skies turned from a dull grey to a lush, cool blue. The ground became a vibrant crimson grass and carpet. The air became warm from the heat of a nearby fire, somewhere out of sight. A fire in the air itself.
Large red armchairs appeared around both of them. A mahogany table sat in the middle of the room, polished and sturdy.
“You, like, look really tense, Pence Pence.” Match declared, pushing her into one of the chairs. Before she could say a word, a cup filled with sweet, scarlet had appeared before her eyes. “I know you don’t like this stuff, but, like, it’s really good for calming you. It’s called, like, “Turkish” or something.”.
She didn’t know what to say. Her eyes looked down at the cup, watching the scarlet water swirl and simmer. Her hands remained limp by her sides. Her mind slowly ground to a halt.
She looked forward. Match had sat on the far seat, legs crossed and arms sprawled out over the backrest. A lazy expression rolled over her eyes. A small cup of tea hovered just above her hand, covered in a sheen of shimmering azure.
“So, like, how ya been?” She asked, tilting her head with a smile. “How’s the power of two been for ya, Pence?”.
Pencil couldn’t speak in any way. She found herself staring at her friend.
Match looked as confident and carefree as ever. She looked cheery, like always. She looked like someone who knew what they wanted and knew when they would get it.
And from the way she acted, the way cobalt lined her limbs and sparkled around her as bright as the moon, she felt…powerful. So strong.
So….beautiful.
“Well?” The redhead’s voice interrupted. Those warm, mischievous eyes, even from all the way over there, were staring directly into hers, making her heart race more.
“Ah!” She yelped, glancing away. “I..I mean…It’s been good. And…I….”.
She giggled at how much Pencil stumbled over her words.
“C’mon, Pency~” She teased, waving her hand. “You used to be so, like, confident, and now you can’t just say, 'Hi, how are ya?' or something like that?”.
She leaned over her armrest, gazing towards her in that oh so familiar and lazy, but interested manner. Her eyes studied the cedar girl like magnets, slow and dull. Her fingers drummed along the side of her seat, her arm slumped over the edge, and she flopped onto her stomach.
“Well?” She pressed, looking at her with the attention of a spotlight.
In BFDIA, Pencil would have loved to be in the spotlight. To be seen. To be wanted.
To be Trusted above anything else, and valued like nothing short of the greatest thing alive.
Right now, she didn’t want to be centre stage.
“I…I’m sorry.” She apologised to Match, but also to herself. Her eyes shot down to the table. Her fingers clenched around the fabric of her armrests. “I don’t…I don’t know what I want.”.
“What do you mean?” She asked her curiously.
“Ever since I joined this new show, I just….it isn’t the same.” She muttered, crossing her arms. “Everyone I once knew is gone. Bubble and Ruby are who knows where. I haven’t seen you since the vote to join this dumb contest. And Book even hates me.”.
“But, like, you’re Pencil!!!” Match reminded her, the smile on her lips remaining warm and welcoming. “Pencil the bold. Pencil the brave. Pencil the kind, and Pencil the caring. Pencil the leader.
Pencil, Pencil, Pencil!!! Why would anyone hate you?”.
The seconds passed with agonising pace. A mixture of comfort and discomfort nestled into her stomach, making her feel sick.
Slowly, carefully, she picked up the cup. The warm, sweet water hit her lips, and the feeling of warmth swallowed her hunger as much as the sight of red did her sight.
She didn’t even like tea without milk. Or tea, for that matter.
But she felt compelled to drink.
She felt cold.
“I think because I’m….I’m a terrible person.” She finally answered, grimacing at the chills running down her spine.
She felt sick. She felt lonely.
She felt cold.
“Ice Cube keeps avoiding me, and Book told me she hates me.” She continued, fingers tensing around the cup. “I can barely get a nice conversation with anyone on my team, the only person I really know on there is Golf Ball of all people, and everyone else is someone I barely know.
I…I just feel like joining this stupid show thing was…the worst mistake of my life.”.
“So, you wish you’d never joined TPOT?” The redhead asked, sipping her tea slowly. Her gaze fixed on Pencil, warm and watching.
“Yeah.” She replied, setting her cup down. “Yeah, I….I hate every waking moment in this dumb show.”.
Match set her cup down, too, before sitting up. Her fingers snapped, causing a large crate to appear over her head.
“I see.”.
The thing fell beside her with a crash, causing everything around them to shake.
CRASH!!!
“Well, what if I told you that you weren’t meant to join?” She explained. With another snap of her fingers, a whiteboard appeared beside her.
The board for the TPOT join. With bright green text reading, “The One contestant with the most votes joins The Power of Two” in bright green text. The “one” stood out especially like a sore thumb.
“Wh-What!?” Pencil yelped, taken aback.
Another snap of Match’s fingers, and the word “One” turned into a blue coloured “Two”.
“We could’ve lost together, Pence Pence.” She explained, kicking the crate beside her. “If it wasn’t for her.”.
Thunk!!!
Something tumbled out from the side. Another one of those Algerbraliens. They were an armless one, similar to Golf Ball or TV, and in the shape of the number one. Their skin was a dull lapis, similar to how Four looked when Pencil took his power.
Four had said that there was another number here. At the time, Pencil had thought he meant Two.
Did he mean this one?
“She, like, messed about with a lot of stuff on Two’s show.” Match explained, rolling her hand casually. The legs of this new number were bound in rope, and her mouth was covered in duct tape. “But, I like, dealt with it before she got to you.”.
When One’s eyes met Pencil’s, the girl found herself looking at something familiar. Something….she knew.
A warmth. A familiar care. A…safety.
But quickly, before she could understand what she was looking at, the glare became sharper. Harsher. Colder.
“So, now I, like, got these cool powers!” Match proclaimed ecstatically, clapping her hands.
A bowling ball appeared above One’s head, covered in the same bright azure coating of energy that held her cup.
Squish!!! Squeak!!! Squash!!!
Every time she brought her hand down, the bowling ball pressed down on One’s head. Every press made the drained number’s body squeak like a rubber duck.
Pencil could stare into space in abject horror.
Her eyes drifted to Two’s power through her left hand, a brilliant lime green. The carefree, soft-smiling host who had taken to bedrotting ever since Gaty went missing.
She wasn’t meant to be on the show. She should never have been in any of the challenges for this.
Her eyes wandered over her right hand, a deep neon blue. The sounds of Four’s screeches and zaps, the haze of constant math equations in the exit and the menacing presence of that damn number wafted around her head like a maelstrom.
She was never meant to join TPOT. She should’ve never seen Four again.
But no. Because someone else decided…
Because of that “One” thing, she’d been subjected to months of spiralling and losing even more than she had in the Exit by joining this stupid new show.
She was never meant to be on The Power of Two.
She was meant to be out there, with Bracelety, or Match, or any of their other friends who had lost the vote.
She could’ve found Ruby. She could’ve found Bubble.
She could’ve never had to see Four again.
“So, like, what’re you up to right now?” Match asked eagerly, jumping up into her face. Her smile was so bright, and her eyes flashed with a colour and admiration Pencil hadn’t known in years. “How’d you get these funky powers?”.
She remained silent, remembering the way Four had crawled in panic across the rooftop. The bright flash and sharp sizzle of zaps which had come from her blue arm. That arm still pulsed with unimaginable power, like an icy magma.
“It was….in a challenge. Nothing….nothing special.” She explained hesitantly, looking at her green arm. A few hours ago, it was barely even hunter green. Maybe even black, as all object limbs are.
And yet, here she sat, with her arm glimmering full of the power of two. The power all her old friends competed for.
She held that power. She held Four’s power.
Why didn’t he feel powerful?
“Wow, that sounds awesome!” Match cheerfully and excitedly exclaimed, taking another sip of her tea. “So, like, that means you’ve gotta be super strong now. You could take apart buildings, despawn people like Four, or even revive other people.
Oh, you should do that! Revive someone, Pence Pence. Revive someone!!!”.
“I…” Pencil began, unsure of how to tell her.
The admiration in her friend’s eyes, the trust and value from her…it made her feel sick.
She didn’t want to disappoint her. She didn’t want to let down the person she thought so very highly of, higher than even herself right now.
Breathing in deeply, Pencil tried. She focused. She grit her teeth, tensed her arm, closed her eyes, and truly concentrated. She placed the hand with Two’s power over her hand with Four’s power to amplify the power, hoping it would be enough.
The image of Liy came to mind.
Brr!!! Dada, dada dum dum!!!
Something hit the ground.
Opening her eyes, she could see it. The shape of the pastel coloured girl. The sharp, boxy edges were there.
But the limbs were shaky and glitchy. Her face hadn’t even formed.
Within seconds, the body exploded into several pieces of plastic and copper.
Again, Pencil had failed.
“That doesn’t, like, look like Liy.” Match commented, scratching her sulphur head. “Are you, like like, trying to….do, like, modern art or whatever?”.
She tried again.
Brr!!! Dada dada da-
CRASH!!!
The physical appearance of Liy didn’t even form. Pencil focused harder, trying again.
This time, she thought of Pen.
Brr!!! Dada dada da-dum du-
CRASH!!!
His bright blue cap was all that formed. It had dissipated into nothing before it even hit the ground.
She tried again.
Brr!!! Dada dada-
CRASH!!!
And again.
Brr!!! Dada da-
CRASH!!!
And again.
Brr!! Da-
CRASH!!!
Pencil collapsed into her seat with a huff. The colour had been drained from her face. Her wrist hurt from how tightly she’d grasped it. Her fingers felt numb.
“I…I can’t.” She confessed, voice breaking like sticks. “I can’t do it. I can’t do anything with this power. I...I...I can’t. Matchy. I can’t do it.”.
Silence. Total silence hung over the air. Occasionally, soft crackles from the unseen fire and the sips of tea broke it, but silence settled in.
It felt maddening. Like ice clawing at your bones, or pins pricking your teeth, or…or…
Pencil groaned, grappling her head with her hands. She couldn’t even figure out what to compare this complete failure of hers to do anything right. Power radiated through her palms on an unimaginable scale.
But what was the point of power if she couldn’t do anything?
She felt pathetic. All this power, all the freedom she had from those stupid numbers and yet…
And yet she still couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t keep her alliance. She couldn’t keep her friendships. She couldn’t even keep allies.
And all because she had joined this stupid show.
No, not TPOT. All because she’d joined the first show.
All because she’d been dumb enough to want to win that useless Dream Island. A decade of competition that had absolutely ruined her life.
It made tears well in her eyes. She wished she could go back. She wished she could undo it all.
She wished she could undo a good chunk of her life.
“Hey, Pence Pence.”.
Soft, cool hands cupped her face. The voice of mellow warmth trickled into her senses, and the feeling of comfort seemed to wash over her. The heat of the air turned to lava, adding a balm upon the intense, isolating coldness gripping every corner of her soul.
“You don’t need to be responsible for all of this.” Match reassured, holding her close. Her fingers sprawled over the orange surface of Pencil’s cheek, wiping away the water in her eyes. “If you can’t do it, then I can, like, fix all this for us.”.
The comfort was everything to her. Truthfully, for as much as Pencil valued her strength and greatness above all else, she had missed her best friend.
That’s why this competition felt so raw. So stale. So unfruitful and detestable.
Without Match, she didn’t find any enjoyment in challenges, or cake at stake, or anything else. The games, the rewards, the anticipation before an elimination….it wasn’t the same.
None of it was the same.
“I can fix everything.” Match muttered softly, wiping away her tears. Her eyes glimmered in a soft hazel hue like the sun, while her eyes twinkled with specks of cobalt. “I can make things better for us. I can…take us back to something better.”.
The last words sounded especially promising and honest. It made Pencil’s heart throb at how much her friend took to caring for her. How, no matter what, Match would always appreciate her and always give her that perfect care.
Match’s gaze, Match’s words, Match’s….everything. It all meant so much to Pencil.
“H…How?” She asked, still shaken but also hopeful. If her friend truly did have a solution, she wanted it.
She wanted her friend.
Fwoosh!!!
From a distant tree far off in the sky, a large, spread leaf came flying down. The material was surrounded by the same blue glow as Match’s abilities, and quickly morphed into a sheet of paper.
Numerous lines of writing could be found. Pencil’s eyes saw each letter, but took in none of the words. The only thing of note was the small, blank space at the bottom, and the neat ink pen by her fingers.
“If you can give me that power through a deal, it makes things faster and less painful.” She explained to her, guiding her eyes down to the pen. She guided her hand over the pen. “Plus, if I can’t, I can just, like, give them back to you.”.
Pencil blinked slowly, wiping away her tears. A soft smile spread across her lips. Her heart pounded across her chest.
“Will this….will this work, Matchy?” She asked hopefully. Her eyes gazed up into the redhead's.
Match nodded.
“You can trust me, Pence Pence.” She affirmed, leaning on the table with one of her hands. “I, like, got it as soon as you, like, sign.”.
A warm smile painted her lips.
Pencil didn’t need to be given another word.
Scribble…Scribble, scribble….Scribble…
The pen rolled along the wood. The paper was marked with a messy, but decently written signature. The dream world around her slowly melted away, leaving Pencil standing on the rooftop.
THUD!!!
She jumped, practically catapulted out of her dreary bliss and hope. Next to her, the still-bound body of One lay motionless and still. A pale crimson aura could be seen hovering above.
“Huh?” Pencil gasped in confusion. “What…what is…?”.
Buzz…Buzz..
“Oh my god.”.
Her eyes looked up to where Match was.
The sulphur-head girl hovered in the sky. Green and blue power circled her body like magnetic energy, swirling in a glorious miasma of colours. Her smile was wide, looking sharp and cracked. Her eyes glistened bright, icy blue, instead of her warm hazel.
“Oh my god, yes!!!” She cried out, so happy. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!!”.
Her happiness looked…wrong.
“FINALLY!!!”.
Her manic laughter felt….wrong.
“I’VE FINALLY DONE IT!!!”.
Something about “Match” felt…wrong.
WOOSH!!!
A blue essence shot out of her body, pulling the power of Two and the power of Four along with it. Match fell beside Pencil with a clunk, lifeless.
“M…Matchy!?” She yelped, picking her best friend up. Her eyes were dull, and her mouth hung loose. “Matchy what…what happened? What happened to you?”.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the immense amount of power surrounding the blue essence dive straight into the body of One. The red essence above her head dove right into Match’s body, causing a flicker of familiar hazel to flash in her eyes.
In the deepest part of Pencil’s heart, something dropped.
What….why…how?
“HAHA!!! YES!!!” One proclaimed, shooting off the ground like a star. Her eyes were wide, like Match’s had just been. Her body was bright, like Match’s had just been.
“IT’S BEEN SO LONG, BUT I’VE FINALLY, FINALLY DONE IT!!!”.
She exuded confidence, like Match had just done.
“Hey!” Pencil yelled, pointing up at the number. Her other arm held her friend protectively. “What’s the meaning of this? Who are you, and what did you do with Match?”.
“I didn’t do anything, Pence Pence.” One mockingly answered, glaring down at her with wide, victorious eyes. “You did.”.
“I…what?” The eraser-head girl let out, completely dumbfounded.
“You did this.” One told her, cold and direct. “You did this. All of this is you.”.
“What’re you talking about?” Pencil demanded to know. “What have you done with Ma-?”.
The body in her arms pushed up, cutting her off.
Pencil reached out toward her, hoping she wasn’t hurt.
“Match!” She cried out, grabbing her arm. “What’s this number talking abou-?”
“Don’t touch me.”.
For the second time, Match cut her off. This time, it was intentional.
In the abyss of Pencil’s heart, something cracked.
“Ma….Matchy?”.
Without looking back, Match marched over to the edge of the roof. Her eyes glared up at the hovering Algebralian. Her fingers tensed at her sides.
“I did what you asked. I stayed silent and let you play out your little game.” She said calmly, folding her arms. “Now make good on your word.”.
One floated down to meet her at eye level. The abundance of power radiated around her like the sun.
“What about her?” She asked, pointing her leg toward the still confused and heartbroken Pencil.
“What about her?” The aspen girl responded dryly. The total dismissiveness made the pit in her friend’s stomach drop even further.
“I don’t care about her. I don’t want to think about her.” Match continued, her voice filled with bitterness. “Now make me a star, as you promised. Make me be my own me. Without Pencil!”.
She turned around one final time, looking at her old friend with a mixture of emotions that were not love.
“It’s always been you.”.
Jealousy.
“Not anymore.”.
Hate.
“Now, it’s my turn.”.
Anger.
The algebralian stared at her with those wide, creepy eyes. Her grin remained stretched. Her power and aura radiated magnetically.
“Okay!” She eagerly replied.
Her eyes lit up bright green. Two solid jet beams of light, reminiscent of Four’s zaps, shot down onto the redhead.
ZAP!!!
All that was left was a smoking dark patch where Match had stood.
Pencil stared down at the black mark. Her eyes twitched. Her hands remained limp.
She could feel her heart pounding. She could feel it ache in her chest. She could feel her insides burning with total, unrequited love.
“Ma…”.
Hot tears flowed down her cheeks like lava.
“Ma…Match.”.
Her fears gripped every corner of her body. Her muscles were paralysed, her mouth bent in a near-permanent gasp.
“Match. You…You…”.
She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe the person she had talked to and given her trust was not Match. She couldn’t fathom that she had just been tricked.
“You….I….I….Ma…”.
She couldn’t even believe that the true Match, her truest and greatest friend….had looked at her like that. Spoken about her like that.
HATED her like that.
It was all too much. It was all too, too much. Pencil’s world had been flipped upside down, shaken, stirred, broken and stitched together again so many times today.
But this…this was it.
Match hated her. Match fucking hated her.
It caused every part of her to shatter like glass as she dropped to her knees.
Her sobs echoed across the roof, the showgrounds, and the very world itself. Nobody else was alive right now, so nobody else could hear her.
“Good. Excellent. Nobody should hear this.
To her, nobody should hear her ugly cries. Nobody should see her pathetically grovelling over someone whom she’d lost so long ago. Nobody should ever be near her.
She had fucked up. Again and again. It was always her, wasn’t it?
That’s what she said to her. That’s what was true.
If something went wrong? Pencil. If the team nearly lost? Pencil.
If people got hurt and friendships became rotten, and good things became terribly toxic and broken? Pencil, Pencil, Pencil.
It was always her. ALWAYS her.
She hated it. She hated how much she had messed up, every single time.
She hated herself.
Pencil hated herself.
Match hated Pencil.
Match hated her.
“Letting out the water works badly, Pencil?” The sweet, despicable voice chirped from high above.
She could only stare up at the blue, disgusting number with anger. It always had to be a damn number, huh?
“What do you want?” She hissed angrily. The last thing she’d ever want to do is listen to the damn thing that tricked her and caused her to lose her friend. “Gonna put me on a little string for your fancy, you Algebralana whatever, scamp?”.
“That does sound interesting.” She remarked, crossing her legs like she was sitting in a chair. “But, not much for me. Instead, all I mean to do is help!”.
Her sweet, cheery tone only served to irritate Pencil further.
“What could you do to 'help', you freak?” She spat, not even caring for how general or venomous she was being. “All of you damn numbers are the same, so why should I believe you now?”.
“Hey, come now. I know Four’s a bit mean, but he did the same stuff he did to you, to me.” One explained, pointing toward the moon out by the side of the hotel. The open hole in the thing had been sealed shut. “Four locked me away for a simple mistake, and I lost everything. Everything I’m doing right now is to make sure I can get my life back and fix my mistakes. And I’d love to help anyone along the way, be it Ice Cube, or Fanny, or Match, or even….you.
I just want to help you fix what you’ve broken. I can get you back to Match, just as I gave Match everything she wanted.”.
Pencil wanted to scream. This putrid NUMBER didn’t understand. She wouldn’t understand what it's like to lose someone you love, or to have that same loved one look at you like dirt. She would NEVER get it.
But….the mention of Match…made her weak.
Match…
“You’ve already made your deal.” One further explained, conjuring the contract Pencil had signed. “I’ll be kind enough to let you know that your deal sends you to the same place she’s gone. That means you can still get to her.”.
Pencil let out a sound, akin to a croak.
“Huh?”.
One made a second scroll appear beside the first.
“Match wished to be her own person. To do that, I sent her back to where it all began so she could decide her fate again.” She informed her, juggling both contracts of a pair of bright, gleaming arm constructs. “You wanted to fix your mistakes. That means if I use this power you just gave me, I can send you back to where it all began to fix everything. Same as her.”.
Both contracts disappeared into sparkles, illuminating the dark patch before Pencil.
The warmth of her perfect smile, her sweet voice, and her firm appreciation and energy still simmered in the stirred lake of her mind. The kind of warmth that made winter feel comforting and summer refreshing. The kind of warmth that made her heart throb in anticipation and need.
“Though I must warn you that it’ll be hell.” One warned, eyes flashing. “With her knowledge of what’s to come, and her clear distaste for you, she’ll be making it nearly impossible for you to live a normal life, let alone get close to her.
Knowing Match, she might even put you in her shadow for this rerun.”.
The phantom feeling of her fingers in Pencil’s still felt fresh as ever. The sound of her confident laughter still filled her ears. The image of the girl Pencil had grown to adore and love over the last ten years couldn’t have been any less perfect, down to the little imperfections in her wood.
“If I go back….” Pencil began, lips quivering. “If I dive into hell itself….
Will I have my Matchy?”.
The question hung in the air. The desperation could be felt from every single syllable that left her lips. Her eyes gazed up at the number, not with hate, but a desperate, absolute need for that one key thing.
Match.
“It would.” One confirmed for her. “It would mean that.”.
With that, Pencil stood up.
“Then do it.” She commanded, pointing a finger at the all-powerful Algebralien. “Send me where you sent her.”.
One didn’t need any further orders.
ZAP!!!
Hiss!!!
A dark patch sat upon the rooftop tiles, behind the first one. It smoked and sizzled, like fresh fire. It made the area look desolate.
2nd Place: Pencil
January, 2010
“Yeah, I know she was so surprised.”.
“Really?”.
“Oh, for sure. I mean, it wasn’t very big. Just a little bug, but Flower went-”.
BZZZT!!!
Hiss!!!
With a pop, Match jumped. Her lungs were filled with fresh air. Smoke surrounded her body in a soft, brilliant blue hue that quickly dissipated.
Her eyes adjusted to the light. The grass looked beautifully green. The sun shone down upon the plains of Goiky wonderfully.
Everything looked so perfect and pristine. It looked so great for 2010 that she swore the cards and pictures never captured this kind of beauty.
“Match? Are you okay?” A familiarly young voice with a sharpened accent on the end of each word asked. “You look a little shook.”.
She turned around.
There she was. Cedar wood body. Sharp, but not totally sharp, graphite end. Eraser head, fresh as a daisy, and beautifully smooth.
Pencil.
“Are you okay, Matchy?” Young Pencil asked her with concern. She reached a hand out toward her.
Smack!!!
Without giving her a word, she swatted the arm away. Her eyes glared at what she had once considered her best friend with nothing but disdainful regret.
Not again. She wouldn’t do this again.
Match marched off before Pencil could even say a word. Confused and a little hurt by the sudden coldness, she noticed something on the ground where the aspen girl had been.
It looked like one of those funky new iPads, but with weird buttons. Stuck to the back was a note with a crudely drawn, anthropomorphised number One. Next to it was a message.
“If you need help, just call me.”
She scratched her head in confusion. Why would Match need ‘help’? What was this? Who put this here?
And why was Match so hostile? Did something happen to her to-?
BZZZT!!!!
Hiss!!!
Pencil blinked. Slow, thoughtless blinks. Her body and mind became empty for one-one millionth of a second. Then, in the next, they both became full.
She felt young. She felt full of energy. Her body was fresher. She was shorter. Her scratches and irregularities were absent, but she could feel their phantom marks.
Her eyes took in the sights. The lush green grass, the pristine blue skies…
The sight of Match talking with Bubble and Ice Cube in the distance.
Pencil looked down at the device in her hands. She knew what this was.
She knew why she was here.
A tear nearly ran down her cheeks. She kept herself composed.
She had to fix everything.
“Matchy…”.
She had to fix her sins.
"I'm sorry, Matchy.".
For the girl she loved.