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The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic 
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Post The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
Here's the beginning of a little fanfic, not of Housepets! but of Radiant Gardens, featuring my characters, Honey and Vanilla Cake. I have not included anyone else's characters because 1) I don't have permission to use characters created by someone else, and 2) even if I did, I'm uncomfortable doing that anyway. Besides which, this is kind of "non-canonical", not really meant to be set in a specific time, either before, during, or after Radiant Gardens.

Anyway, please tell me what you think.



The Longest Night

Chapter 1



Vanilla Cake was surrounded by her family, yet she felt as though she were alone. She loved them, in an intellectual sort of way, but as far as emotions went….

Mr. Cake was the indifferent sort most of the time. Usually the only thing that motivated him was if his dogs were being threatened. Then he could be very protective indeed. And he took care of the bare necessities: he fed them, he bathed them, he took them to the vet when they needed it, he kept them safe. But other than that, he didn’t do much. As long as Vanilla and Honey were okay, he didn’t bother with them much. He mostly sat in front of the TV or his computer (he worked from home) and occasionally drank a beer, but for the most part he didn’t interact with the girls at all. There was no “there” there.

As for Vanilla’s older sister Honey, she was better company, but still not perfect. They weren’t blood sisters, and Vanilla didn’t mind that so much, though she did wonder whether a blood sister might have been more like herself, at least enough to understand her. Honey was older, but at times she acted more like she was younger, which was off-putting. She was a lot more peppy, and smiley, and (in Vanilla’s opinion) reckless, much like a pup. Not to mention that, while no one could call Honey unintelligent, her intelligence didn’t match Vanilla’s by a long shot. Since Mr. Cake wasn’t married, Honey was the closest thing Vanilla had to a role model, and while Vanilla sometimes envied Honey’s ability to be happy, Honey did have flaws—too many of them for Vanilla to want to emulate her.

And that was it. Vanilla didn’t have any friends. She spent most of her time indoors, trying to amuse herself either alone or with Honey, neither of which was much fun. The things she wanted to do, like play chess or discuss philosophy, while Honey would do them with her, were not Honey’s speed. Honey always lost when they played chess or any other strategy game. Honey didn’t mind, but Vanilla did—it was tedious winning every time, and knowing in advance that you were going to win. And Honey didn’t have much to contribute to Vanilla’s intellectual discussions either—the most she could offer was an occasional “that makes sense.” Honey was more the social, playacting sort, the sort that made Vanilla uncomfortable.

Vanilla herself was the reserved, aloof type. She always wore a green jacket with a hood, and always wore the hood up, obscuring her face. She never spoke to anyone on the street, and no one spoke to her, which was just the way she liked it. She was not a social dog.

One Saturday evening….

* * * * *

“Vanilla! Vanilla! Vanilla!”

Honey had barged into Vanilla’s room without knocking. “I thought I’d locked the door,” muttered Vanilla.

Ignoring this, Honey showed Vanilla two envelopes. “Look! Check it out!”

Vanilla observed the two envelopes. They were both the same size, dimensions, and color, and the handwriting was the same on each. In addition, one had a loose flap. From this and Honey’s enthusiasm Vanilla deduced that both came from the same individual, and that Honey had read hers already. Since Vanilla didn’t know anyone and the other envelope was clearly addressed to her, she presumed it was from one of Honey’s many friends.

Opening her envelope, Vanilla looked at the invitation, for that was what it was.

“‘You’re invited to Raisin Muffin’s fifth birthday bash! Cake, games, prizes, contests, and more! All you need to do is show up this Sunday afternoon! Please RSVP by 12:00 noon! Hope to see you there!’” Vanilla’s monotone voice hid the enthusiasm that Raisin must have felt when writing the invitation.

“Well?” said Honey.

Vanilla handed the invitation back without a word.

“Aww, don’t you wanna come?”

“Tell Raisin I’ve got the flu.”

Honey put her paws on her hips. “I’m not going to lie for you, Vanilla. It says to RSVP by noon tomorrow—if you’re not coming, call her and tell her yourself. The invitation’s to you.”

Vanilla sat up in her bed and looked Honey square in the eye.

“Let’s put things in perspective. First of all, I don’t know Raisin Muffin. I’ve never met her. Therefore, why should she be sending ME an invitation to anything? Because she’s YOUR friend and she knows you have a sister, that’s why. I refuse to attend a party where I’m wanted because of my connections—it’s dishonest and I won’t cater to it.

“Second of all, I’m not the party sort, and you know it. It’s all a bunch of false glamour and it sickens me. Balloons, streamers, confetti, noisemakers—what good are any of those? What purpose do they have? All they’re good for is being cleaned up and thrown away afterward. It’s a waste of money.

“Besides, birthdays happen every year—why go all out to celebrate it anyway? All it does is make the birthday girl think she’s the queen of the world for one day and hide the fact that on all other days she’s NOT, and the fact that she’s now a year older and will never again be younger. It’s hooey, and I want no part of it, not even to RSVP.”

Honey listened to every word Vanilla said, but she did not accept what her sister was saying. “First of all, how do you expect to know Raisin or anyone else if you don’t make the effort? She probably sent you the invitation because she wants to meet you.

“Second of all, okay, so you’re not the party sort. You don’t have to participate in the games and stuff if you don’t want to—just mix and mingle. No one will bite. And maybe give her a gift of some kind.

“And yes, birthdays happen every year, but only ONCE a year. That’s why they’re so special. What’s wrong with being pampered a little one day out of 365?”

Vanilla sighed and turned away from her sister. “I’ve said all I care to. I’m not going to RSVP—if you won’t do it either, then the fact that Raisin won’t have heard from me by noon tomorrow will tell her something. And I’m not spending my allowance on someone I don’t know.”

Honey started for the door, but stopped before she left. Turning back to Vanilla, she said, “If you don’t want to come to the party that’s fine—I personally think you’re missing out, but no one’s forcing you—but I do think it’s rude not to at least tell Raisin yourself that you’re not coming.”

When Vanilla did not respond, Honey left the room and closed the door.

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Last edited by ChewyChewy on Fri Aug 06, 2010 2:33 am, edited 1 time in total.



Wed Aug 04, 2010 6:04 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
I love Pet Friendly Fanfics!

Anyways, I think have quite the talent for writing, Chewy!


Wed Aug 04, 2010 8:06 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Thanks! :D It's going to get pretty interesting soon.... (I hope....)



Chapter 2



Well after Mr. Cake and Honey got to sleep that night, Vanilla was still tossing and turning in bed. This by itself would not have been unusual, but it went on for what seemed a lot longer than it had done last night, or the night before, or even for the last month.

She turned from one side to her back, then to the other side, and thence to her stomach. She even tried moving her pillow and head to the opposite direction. Nothing worked. She was wide awake. Physically she was fatigued, but she wasn’t sleepy. Her bed was comfortable enough, but staying in one position eluded her.

She went to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk. She’d heard that sometimes worked, but had never tried it. She stopped the microwave before it finished so that it wouldn’t ding and wake everyone up. After she’d finished drinking (and now had milk breath to add to her troubles), Vanilla went back to bed.

It didn’t help.

“What’s wrong with me?” she thought out loud as she tossed and turned.

“You want the long list or the short list?” she answered herself.

Vanilla Cake would never admit it to anyone, but she actually liked the Alice books by Lewis Carroll because she identified somewhat with Alice, being the only sane person in a nonsensical world. She even talked to herself sometimes, as Alice did, because sometimes there was no one else to talk to.

“I’m not rude, am I?” she asked herself. “I’d think it’d be MORE rude to say no, and I won’t invent a false excuse.”

“Were you telling Honey the truth earlier about why you didn’t want to go?” she answered herself.

“I told her why I didn’t want to go.”

“Are you sure that was the reason? Are you sure it wasn’t because you’re afraid?”

Vanilla cringed.

“That’s it, isn’t it? You’re afraid to meet Raisin because you don’t know what she’ll be like. You don’t know what she’ll think of you, and you’re afraid to find out.”

Vanilla felt sick. She reached for her watch and pressed the button for the light. Squinting, she noted the time: 12:57 am.

Strange that it was still so early. Honey had fallen asleep around 11:30, and Mr. Cake couldn’t have gone to bed before midnight. It didn’t feel like it had been less than an hour, though—it felt longer. A lot longer. And Vanilla usually had a good sense of what time it was.

“I hope I’m not coming down with something….” she muttered as she got up to go to the bathroom.

“Do you? It’d give you a good excuse not to go to the party.”

“Hush….”

She came to the bathroom and turned the light on to look at herself in the mirror. The first thing she noticed was that she was still wearing her jacket—the hood wasn’t up, as it usually was, but there it was.

She felt like smacking herself in the face. That was it. She’d forgotten to take off her jacket. You don’t go to bed wearing a jacket. She turned off the light and—

She turned off the light and—

And—

She’d THOUGHT she’d turned off the light….

“Did Dad install a night light in here and not tell me?”

She didn’t know the answer. She didn’t remember a night light being in here before.

She looked around for the source of the light. She checked the toilet, the bathtub, the sink, the mirror—

The mirror. Somehow she couldn’t find the source of the light unless she looked in the mirror. Well, looking in the mirror would give her an idea of where the light was.

Right?

She looked at the mirror. She looked at it dead-on, she looked at it from the left, she looked at it from the right. It was no use—whatever she tried, the light seemed to be blocked by her reflection’s head. She turned around and looked directly behind her, but found nothing. No light. Was the light coming from the mirror itself?

“Ridiculous,” she said to herself.

Still, there it was, behind her reflection.

Wasn’t it?

No…it seemed almost as though it were coming FROM her reflection, which made even less sense. It was as though the light were coming from her head itself. As nonsensical as this was, Vanilla couldn’t help feeling her head, but of course felt nothing other than what she expected to feel—her headfur.

By way of an experiment she tried putting her hood on.

Complete blackness.

Now there was no light at all. What was going on here? She removed her hood and there was the light again, coming from the head of her reflection, so it seemed.

Or….

Now Vanilla was hopelessly lost. Now she couldn’t see herself at all in the mirror, even with the light. Or…no, that wasn’t quite true. Or rather…it was and it wasn’t. She couldn’t put it into words—it looked like it was herself…but it looked like a transparent, shimmering image that she couldn’t make out at all—only the light was clear…. But….

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t take her eyes off the light in the mirror. It didn’t occur to her to turn the light switch on, or even to leave the bathroom. The more she looked at the light, the more it was like…looking at a star, almost…. If she were millions of miles closer to it…. It was almost blinding, yet she couldn’t take her eyes off it. She felt disoriented, however, as though the vector of her personal gravity were shrinking…shorter and shorter…until it reached her center of gravity entirely.

It was as though the floor had turned into the deck of a small boat sailing through increasingly unsteady waters until she no longer felt as though she were standing on anything. It was as though she were floating in the air, or under water, or something…. All she knew was the light, but she couldn’t see what else there was….

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"We have to do this take again! HAL, do it with a LOT less emotion!"
"I'm sorry Stan, I'm afraid I can't do that."
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Last edited by ChewyChewy on Fri Aug 06, 2010 6:58 pm, edited 3 times in total.



Thu Aug 05, 2010 12:02 am
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Hmm, things are very interesting, so far. Wanna see more of this!
And yes, PF fanfics are really cool! It helps one to know the characters without having ot skim through the whole production... :D

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Thu Aug 05, 2010 12:51 am
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Okay, now this is interesting :3

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Thu Aug 05, 2010 3:24 am
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Post Re: The Longest Night
I'm really liking this story! It might have helped that I've grown to like the Cake sisters while RP'ing with you, but it's probably how well you portray your characters. I can't wait until chapter 3! :mrgreen:


Thu Aug 05, 2010 3:31 am
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Thanks for all your kind words! :D I'm glad you're liking this so far! Well, since you requested it, here it is, the next chapter:



Chapter 3



Vanilla didn’t know how much time had passed, but it felt like anywhere from two hours to an eternity, with nothing happening, and nothing being around her except the light. For some reason she found herself hating the light, and wishing she could extinguish it somehow, if only she knew the way. There it was, staring right at her, as though boring a hole into her soul. Though she was still wearing her jacket (as far as she knew) she felt exposed, judged, shamed. She hated this feeling.

Presently she began to see something other than the light and the hazy image emanating from it that used to be her reflection. How much time had passed now? Did it matter? Did time have a meaning anymore?

“Curiouser and curiouser,” she muttered sarcastically, recalling Alice’s famous line. She took a look at what now presented itself to her. At least, she tried to look. What she saw with her eyes was as hazy and impossible to make out as anything else (except the light), and while she could hear speech as well, she couldn’t quite make out the words with her ears.

And yet….

She didn’t care to admit it, but although she wasn’t exactly experiencing it with her senses, she knew exactly what it was. It was exactly what she didn’t want it to be, and she would not own up to it, not even to herself. If she wasn’t experiencing it with her senses, she was experiencing it (or rather, re-experiencing it) with her feelings….



The pet shop smelled just like always. The funky smell of excessive sanitation, that reeked of insincerity. The odor offended Vanilla’s nose, just as it had done the day before, and the day before that, and every day for as far back as she could remember. Her littermates had been adopted, and so had her mother, now that Vanilla was old enough to be separated from her. That had crushed the Sheltie pup, especially since she hadn’t had a chance to make friends with any of the other dogs in the pet shop.

She hadn’t WANTED to make friends with anyone else in the pet shop. Vanilla was a very smart pup—sometimes she felt she was TOO smart for her own good. Young though she was, she had put two and two together and made zero. She had figured it out, that the animals at this pet shop were only here temporarily. Hence, it was too risky to reach out and befriend any of them, lest they have to be parted by either Vanilla being adopted (which hadn’t happened yet) or her friends being adopted. So even when others said hello and acted friendly to her, she rejected the opportunity and kept to herself.

Why hadn’t anyone adopted her, anyway? Wasn’t she good enough for anyone? She thought she must be—she was smart enough, and she knew that humans were impressed with smart dogs. She thought she was nice enough, if shy—surely when she had a permanent home she could forge a permanent bond with someone and no longer need to be shy. Surely then she could be nicer? And while not the most attractive pup in her litter, she did have a healthy coat, and she thought she was at least fairly cute—she certainly wasn’t ugly, at any rate, not by a long stretch.

But still no one had adopted her. It must have been that every pet in the shop had been replaced at least once, and she was still there, having found no one to adopt her, no one to care for her, no one to give her a home, and a family. She didn’t know what happened to dogs who were not adopted by anyone, and she didn’t know if she wanted to find out—although it would at least provide a change of pace from her eternal loneliness. Vanilla started to cry.




Vanilla had thought she’d put this depressing memory behind her, but now it had come back to haunt her. Why? Surely not because of the party she had no desire to attend? She didn’t think she’d done, said, or thought anything different from what had been the norm for her.

The memory faded away, the only constant being the light. How she hated that light! What business had it to be there, judging her like this? What right did it have?
Another image came. She tried to resist, but she might as well have tried to stop a tidal wave with her bare paws.



“Hello,” said the smiling young collie as she saw Vanilla. “I’m Honey Cake, and this is my dad. What’s your name?”

“Vanilla….” said Vanilla in a voice that tried to sound indifferent. This Honey Cake (what an embarrassing name) and her owner (she hadn’t gotten used to the idea that pets called their owners “Mom” and “Dad”) weren’t the first family to take a fleeting interest in Vanilla, and they likely wouldn’t be the last either. No one had adopted her before, not even when they’d noticed her, which was rare. Why should this Cake family be any different?

Besides, was this even the family she wanted? If humans had standards, so would she. Mr. Cake didn’t seem like the loving type, although Honey didn’t seem to have been harmed by his manner of caring for a dog. Then again, Honey seemed…well…silly. Vanilla couldn’t say for certain that Honey was stupid, even less that perhaps Honey was a neglected pet and didn’t realize it (Vanilla didn’t like to prejudge), but certainly Honey didn’t seem to be a match for herself in intelligence. Was this family REALLY what Vanilla wanted?

No, surely not. And surely they would feel the same way. Vanilla was too shy for Honey to like her, and Mr. Cake probably didn’t care either way—but why would he spend money on another dog when he already had one?

“My dad said I could pick out a puppy for him to adopt, to be my little sister,” said Honey.

“That’s nice.”

“I want YOU to be my little sister.”

Vanilla nodded in acknowledgment, not looking in Honey’s direction. She refused to get her hopes up. Honey had just met her, how could she KNOW she wanted Vanilla?

“Are you all right?” said Honey sympathetically. “You’re going to be getting a new home!”

Vanilla did not answer.

Soon Honey left. They always left.

Much to her surprise, a few minutes later a human man came to her pen. Vanilla was skittish, but the man did not smell like danger. Her pen was opened and the man reached inside and picked her up, looking her all over. Vanilla felt exposed, and embarrassed. Honey was at Mr. Cake’s feet, bouncing off her heels as if in excitement.

“She’ll do,” said Mr. Cake. “How much did you say she was?”

Vanilla couldn’t believe her ears. It wasn’t possible, was it? Was she really being adopted? Was she finally getting a home of her own? She looked down at Honey, who was panting, wagging her tail, and waving to her.

Shyly, Vanilla attempted a smile and a wave back.

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"We have to do this take again! HAL, do it with a LOT less emotion!"
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Thu Aug 05, 2010 2:09 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
DDDAAAAAAWWWWWW!!!! :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D
I feel SO like hugging Vanilla!! This update is dangerously cute! ;) Absolutely loved it!
Keep it coming, chewy!

EDIT: fixed reference :oops:

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Last edited by valerio on Thu Aug 05, 2010 3:07 pm, edited 1 time in total.



Thu Aug 05, 2010 2:19 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
valerio wrote:
DDDAAAAAAWWWWWW!!!! :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D
I feel SO like hugging Vanilla!! This update is dangerously cute! ;) Absolutely loved it!
Keep it coming, moddie!


ctcmjh is a mod...

nevermind..

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Thu Aug 05, 2010 2:22 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Yeah, I did wonder at the "moddie" comment, since I'm not a mod.... :? Anyway, here's the next chapter:



Chapter 4



Vanilla didn’t care to admit it to herself, but that last memory had been a happy one. And yet…it was tainted, somehow. But it would make herself too vulnerable to the harsh judgment of the light if she admitted that it was her own fault that the memory had been tainted. She had been rude to Honey. She hadn’t embraced her new family with open arms. What if they HAD decided not to adopt her? What if that had been her own fault? It was likely her own fault that the families who’d shown an interest in her before the Cakes had arrived had ultimately changed their minds. It must have taken a lot of love to want the likes of her.

She began to feel a bit guilty. Would it really be such a difficult thing for her to give Raisin something for her birthday? She didn’t have to attend the party, certainly, as she didn’t know Raisin—and a party scenario was not her milieu—but was it really too much to ask that she give Raisin something? It didn’t have to be something big and expensive, just a token of acknowledgment of Raisin’s birthday.

If there was a current to this aether, she felt herself being swept into it again. Vanilla was frightened. What memory would assault her now? Good or bad? Happy or unhappy?

No, it couldn’t be that one…. It SHOULDN’T be that one….



“Happy Birthday, Vanilla!” said Honey in that cheerful voice that Vanilla knew so well.

“But it’s not my birthday,” said Vanilla, confused.

“It’s the first anniversary of the day we adopted you!” said Honey. “That’s as good a day as any to celebrate, don’t you think? Come on! Let’s go to the kitchen!”

Honey took Vanilla’s paw and raced to the kitchen. Vanilla had no idea what to expect.

“Happy Birthday, Vanilla!” said the other puppies in the kitchen, wagging their tails.

Vanilla was stunned. Usually her dad didn’t allow this many puppies in the house. They would make a mess!

“Um…thanks….” said Vanilla.

“Go on, open your presents!” said Honey excitedly, handing her the first one.

Vanilla opened the package. It was clothing of some kind, she could tell that much without opening it. When she had torn off the paper—neatly—and thrown it away, she opened the box inside and saw it. It was a jacket with a hood, and it was green—her favorite color.

“Thank you, Honey….” said Vanilla, honestly touched that her big sister would remember her favorite color.

“Try it on!” said Honey eagerly.

Vanilla did. She placed her arms into the sleeves, then zipped up the zipper. “How do I look?” she said, anxiously.

“Tres chic!” said Honey.

The other puppies concurred.

"If you put the hood on, you’d look like a turtle!” said a Dalmatian puppy that Vanilla didn’t know.

Chuckling lightly, Vanilla did put the hood on and crawled around on all fours like a turtle.

“Slow and steady wins the race,” she said in a slow, deep voice that made everyone laugh.

“You look cute that way!” said the Dalmatian puppy. “I’m Apple. Apple Core. Glad to know you!”

“Glad to know you,” said Vanilla. “And thank you for coming to my birthday party.”




The memory faded before Vanilla re-experienced any more of that party. She felt sick, and not because of the floating sensation, which surely had gone on for hours now, if not longer. That should have been a happy memory for her, and at one time it had been. But it was tainted, and this time it wasn’t Vanilla’s fault.

Was it?

“No, how could I have known?” she thought to herself.

“You should have known better. It’s the same old story,” she answered herself.

“She didn’t give any indication….”

“Does it matter? Does it matter who it was?”

Vanilla might have loosed tears from her eyes if she didn’t still feel an ethereal nature. Much though she hoped and prayed that the next memory would not be—

No.

It was.

Please, not THAT!



“Turtle, turtle, turtle soup! Turtle, turtle, turtle soup!”

Vanilla still couldn’t believe it was happening. It had started so innocently….

Apple had introduced Vanilla to some new friends of hers. Vanilla shouldn’t have gone without Honey or her dad, but the past can’t be changed.

“Turtle, turtle, turtle soup! Turtle, turtle, turtle soup!”

“Doesn’t Vanilla look nice in her jacket?” said Apple to her friends.

Vanilla blushed.

“She sure does,” said a husky, and the others concurred.

“Hey, Vanilla, show them how you look with the hood up!” said Apple, so innocently. “She looks just like a turtle!”

Vanilla had a funny feeling at this. She should have trusted her gut, but she didn’t. She pulled her hood over her head and started to crawl.

The other pups laughed. Somehow that laughter made Vanilla uncomfortable. She started to get up.

THUD! A foot pressed her down to the ground again.

“Hey, that hurt!” said Vanilla.

“Get the turtle!” said the husky. “Let’s make some turtle soup!”

Before Vanilla knew what was going on, the hood was pulled completely over her face. She couldn’t see anything, and she couldn’t even breathe. The next thing she knew, she was being hit with sticks, as though she were a piñata. They hit her HARD.

“OWWW! STOP it! STOP it!” she cried, but her voice was muffled by the hood of her jacket.

“Turtle, turtle, turtle soup! Turtle, turtle, turtle soup!”

Vanilla was starting to suffocate. She could barely stand up, she felt so faint, and the blows kept coming and coming, striking and inflicting pain everywhere, and all she could hear was: “Turtle, turtle, turtle soup! Turtle, turtle, turtle soup!”

Just when she thought she was going to die of suffocation she heard familiar voices.

“Ohmygosh! Vanilla, are you all right?!” cried Honey, who sounded far away.

“Get away from my dog, you flea-bitten mongrels, or I’ll call the ASPCA on you all!” snapped Mr. Cake.

It took awhile for Vanilla to realize that the bad dogs were gone, because she’d gotten so used to the painful blows and the cries of “Turtle, turtle, turtle soup!” that it would be a long time before it would leave her.

She struggled to get the hood off her face and was now sitting on the ground, crying like a baby. Honey rushed to give her a hug, and Mr. Cake chased away the bad dogs.

But the real horror for Vanilla was what she saw of Apple. Apple was running off home, but Vanilla had seen it. Vanilla had heard it.

Apple had laughed. Vanilla had thought Apple was her friend, but….

Apple had LAUGHED!!!

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"We have to do this take again! HAL, do it with a LOT less emotion!"
"I'm sorry Stan, I'm afraid I can't do that."
--Phoenix

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Last edited by ChewyChewy on Mon Nov 29, 2010 6:06 pm, edited 1 time in total.



Thu Aug 05, 2010 2:56 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Aw, poor Vanilla! :cry: :cry: :cry: :cry: :cry:
No wonder she hates parties so much!
For what's worth, she *did* look cute in turtle mode :)

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Thu Aug 05, 2010 3:13 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
So sad :o

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Thu Aug 05, 2010 3:13 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
It's not often you get a teenager such as myself to tear up in the middle of the street.

...Good job! I'm impressed, and feel very sorry for Vanilla...

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Thu Aug 05, 2010 4:46 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
I'm glad this is provoking an appropriate response! Here's the next chapter:



Chapter 5



Vanilla felt as though her entire body had dissolved into tears. Why had those cruel dogs done that to her? She hadn’t done anything mean to them! Why had Apple LAUGHED?! She’d thought Apple was her friend!

Why did that horrible light have to remind her of a traumatic memory she’d been trying to bury in the past? She hated that light. It had to be stopped. She had to stop it. One way or another, she had to put that light out.

She scrambled through the aether, but it availed her nothing. The light still seemed to be the same distance from her, and glowing as brightly as ever. Once more she found herself swept away in the supernatural current, and another series of images came to her head. Oddly, however, this time she didn’t remember it at all….

* * * * *

Apple Core was now about the age that Vanilla currently was. She was sitting alone in her room, drawing pictures and glancing ever so often at the telephone.

“Apple? There are some dogs here to see you!”

Apple shuddered, not answering.

A knock came to the door, and Apple’s owner came in.

“Apple, there are two dogs at the door, who say they know you, and they want to talk to you.”

“No thanks, Mom.”

Mrs. Core sat down on the bed. “Their names are Honey and Vanilla Cake. Isn’t Vanilla the name of the dog whose birthday party you attended?”

Apple shuddered. “I don’t know any Vanilla Cake. Or Honey, for that matter.”

Mrs. Core didn’t say anything else. She stood up, went to the door of Apple’s room, then said, “I’ll tell them you’re not up to company right now—that you’re not feeling well.”

The door closed.

Apple tore up her drawings and wept into her pillow.

“Vanilla, I’m…I’m so sorry…. I don’t blame you for hating me….”


* * * * *

Vanilla was stunned. Apple thought she HATED her? Was that even possible? She thought Apple hated HER! Why else had Apple laughed at Vanilla when the bad dogs were torturing her? The dogs who were supposedly Apple’s friends? Vanilla had thought that was the reason Apple had refused to see them—because Apple wasn’t a true friend and didn’t want to admit to having known the likes of Vanilla. But now….

Did this mean that Vanilla had had a chance to make amends? To still have a friend? And now because of her own prejudice, she’d blown her chance…?

That was it. The light had to be extinguished. NOW. Taking off her jacket, she leapt onto the light and tried to cover it completely with her hood. It felt wobbly, as though she were trying to balance on a bar of soap on the surface of the ocean, but she didn’t care. The light WOULD be snuffed out! She squeezed and squeezed….

* * * * *

The next thing Vanilla knew, she was in her bed, tangled up in the bedsheets and squeezing a lump made by them. She panted for several minutes before she felt ready to move.

A dream. It had all been a dream. Of course it had, how foolish to think otherwise. But what a disturbing nightmare of a dream….

After a few minutes Vanilla worked to free herself from the tangled bedsheets. She got out of bed to remake it neatly, and when she’d gotten it to her liking, she pushed the light button on her watch to see what time it was.

12:01.

What?!

12:01.

“Okay, now I’m really confused….”

She might have understood it if the watch had been an electric clock and perhaps there’d been a blackout, but this was a battery-powered watch. The last time she’d checked the time it had said 12:57, and she was SURE she hadn’t dreamed THAT.

“It’s still dark out….” she thought. “So it’s not NOON…. But I couldn’t have slept through another whole DAY!”

Inconceivable!

Vanilla sat down in her bed, pulled the covers over herself, and tried to fall asleep.

“I hope the warm milk didn’t have anything to do with it….” she thought bitterly.

* * * * *

Vanilla wasn’t tossing and turning anymore, but somehow she still felt unable to fall asleep. She did her best to lie still in one position, and breathe deeply, at eight breaths per minute, but sleep still eluded her.

She’d long since put the nightmare out of her mind, which didn’t explain why she couldn’t fall asleep now.

“I won’t look at the watch….” she muttered.

What seemed like an eternity passed, and she felt no sleepier than before. There wasn’t even a sign of sunrise outside her window, which might have indicated what time it was.

“I won’t look at the watch….”

Never had Vanilla had this much trouble sleeping, and never had she been so bored in her life. Finally she couldn’t resist temptation any longer. She had to look at the watch.

12:59.

Not even an hour.

Groaning, Vanilla turned over and tried counting to herself—she didn’t count sheep, though, she counted years, starting with the beginning of the French Revolution in 1789. Sometimes that helped her.

She’d reached 1914 and still felt no drowsier.

She’d reached 1945….

1961….

1989….

A light went on.

Vanilla’s ears perked up. It was either her dad or Honey. She didn’t know which it was, but it was none of her business. Probably had to go to the bathroom.

She went back to counting years, forgetting which one she was on. So much the better, since that meant she’d have to start over from the beginning, which would take longer, but she NEVER forgot which year she was on.

This time she reached 1992 and the light was STILL on. She’d counted slowly this time, but still…. She supposed it was an emergency. Well, it was none of her business. She started—

—from the beginning again, because once AGAIN she’d forgotten where she’d left off. It was like being in a time loop or something.

“This is ridiculous….” she thought to herself.

Nevertheless, she checked her watch.

“1:00?!”

That just couldn’t be! Her watch hadn’t stopped—the second hands were still going…. But she knew for a fact that it had been more than a minute since she’d checked last!

And the light was still on.

She began to worry.

“Hello?” she said in a soft voice which received no response.

Anxiously, she crept out of bed and toward the door. Her room had never felt so big in her life. She approached, step by step, inch by inch, until finally she reached the door.

Her paw went to the doorknob almost involuntarily, and turned it.

She had to shield her eyes against the blinding flash of light….

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Thu Aug 05, 2010 5:49 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Mysterious! :o :3

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Thu Aug 05, 2010 5:55 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Amazing! Also...cliffhangers are awesome!

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Thu Aug 05, 2010 5:57 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Here's the next chapter!



Chapter 6



It wasn’t the same light as before. Not only was this light brighter and more pervasive, but it felt warmer, friendlier, not nearly as judgmental as the previous light had been. Vanilla felt as though the light were surrounding her on all sides, extending into infinity, and even going THROUGH her without doing her any harm. Without MEANING her any harm. Without meaning anything but compassion and joy.

And Vanilla didn’t like it one bit. And she had no idea why not.

She felt as though she were looking down upon the whole world, able to see everyone and everything at the same time, which ought to have been overwhelming—and it was—but somehow, without meaning to, she came to focus on a few specific others.

She thought she saw an alleyway, cut off from the rest of a city. It was dreary, and gray, and rainy, and two dogs with no collars were rooting through the trash to find food to fill their growling, empty tummies—and there wasn’t much trash in the cans and dumpster in the alley.

The dogs, a German shepherd and a beagle, looked like skeletons with fur hanging off them, and it sickened Vanilla that any dog should suffer such treatment. It sickened her even more that the dogs seemed to be HAPPY.

“Ooh, look-look-look!” said the beagle. “A turkey leg! There’s even some meat left on it this time!”

The German shepherd started drooling. “Turkey…my favorite! This is our lucky day! But we’ve gotta make sure we each get exactly half!”

The beagle tore the meat off the bone and gathered it in a circle on a trash can lid, which Vanilla thought was most unsanitary. The beagle was careful to measure precisely so that each got an even portion, not trying any tricks in order to give himself more than his friend. Both ended up with a piece the size of a grape, but both were happy just to have it.

“Thanks,” said the German shepherd. “I needed that!”

“Hey, only the best for the best dog alive!”

The German shepherd playfully pushed his friend into a soft pile of trash bags and they started playfully wrestling with each other.

* * * * *

Soon the light overpowered this scene, and Vanilla could no longer see or hear anything but the pervasive light. She was alone with her thoughts.

What was wrong with those dogs? Didn’t they realize how miserable their existence was? They had no homes, no families, and no guarantee of steady meals every day. What a terrible fate! At least Vanilla had the basic necessities of a pet!

“Then why are they happy while I’m not?” she thought to herself.

Ay, there was the real question. Why WASN’T she happy? She had a roof over her head, she had her dad and her sister, and while dog food for every meal wasn’t exactly the most interesting repast in the world, at least she got enough to fill her stomach every day, and she always got it at the same time.

Why then did that not make her happy, if even junkyard dogs could be happy?

She would not admit the obvious answer to herself.

At length images came to her again, and this was odd….

She saw a large room decorated with pink balloons, pink streamers, pink confetti, and a two-tiered pink cake.

And there were dogs all around, playing games, eating cake, blowing noisemakers, and just all around having a good time. Vanilla didn’t know any of the dogs, but she guessed that the chocolate Labrador wearing the crown on her head was the birthday girl.

“Honey! So glad you could make it!” said the Labrador, wagging her tail and looking directly at Vanilla (or so it seemed).

Honey?

“Thank you so much for inviting me!” said Honey’s voice, although Vanilla could not see where it was coming from. “Here you go—happy birthday!”

Vanilla saw a pair of arms reach out and hand the Labrador a gift. The arms were covered in purple sweater sleeves with gold cuffs, and the fur was lighter than her own.

Oh great, now I’m Honey, thought Vanilla to herself.

“Oh, thankyouthankyouthankyou!” cried the Labrador, panting and wagging her tail so hard Vanilla thought it would fly off.

So I suppose I’m at Raisin’s birthday party, and that must be Raisin, thought Vanilla.

“Where’s Vanilla?” asked Raisin. “You did give her the invitation, right?”

“I gave it to her,” said Honey’s voice. “She wasn’t feeling very well.”

“Aw, that’s too bad,” said Raisin, looking sad. “I hope she feels better soon. I was really hoping to meet her—you said she liked to play chess, right?”

The up and down motion of the image Vanilla took to mean that “Honey” was nodding. “She says she’s not very good at it, but she beats me every time. She can even play with the chessboard in her head!”

“Wow….” said Raisin, honestly awed. “I’m pretty good at the game myself, but I don’t know if I could do THAT. She really sounds like someone I’d like to get to know. I like to play chess too, but haven’t really found anyone else who likes to play it. I love ANY game that requires some brainwork.”

Vanilla would not respond to this. She scarcely paid attention while the other dogs played at games and enjoyed them immensely. She scarcely even realized it when the image went away.

* * * * *

When there was nothing but the light again, Vanilla was left alone with her thoughts again. She did not want to accept the vision she’d just seen. She had no idea what Raisin was like—she didn’t even know that was what Raisin looked like. It was some psychological manifestation of her guilt feelings, that was it. She was sure that was all it was.

It was working.

She couldn’t deny it anymore. It was working.

Okay, maybe this was only a manifestation of her guilt feelings—not that she could remember having one before, or at least not this vivid—but didn’t it stand to reason that if she had no idea what Raisin looked like, or what her personality and interests were, that there was a possibility (however infinitesimal) that it DID match her vision? Improbable, yes, undoubtedly, but impossible? No, she knew better than that.

And besides...she couldn't deny this anymore either...she'd WANTED to meet Raisin. She'd WANTED to join in the fun....

The light began to dim now. It became dimmer, and dimmer….

…and dimmer….

…and yet, no matter how dim it got, Vanilla couldn’t see anything.

Soon it was entirely dark, and Vanilla realized she was lying down again. Had she woken up? Little though she wanted to, she checked her watch.

11:58 pm.

Of course.

What else would it be?

This night was looking like it was NEVER going to end….

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Last edited by ChewyChewy on Fri Aug 06, 2010 7:39 pm, edited 4 times in total.



Thu Aug 05, 2010 7:00 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night
Great Update! :D :D :D
Also, as a lover of dream sequences, I say you're doing a great job, Chewy! Wanna MOARZ!!!

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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
Thanks! :D Well, you wanted it, you got it. This isn't the last chapter overall, I expect I may need one or two more, but this is probably going to be it for the night. But I'll finish it tomorrow!



Chapter 7



Vanilla made up her mind. She was NOT going to get out of bed again. That was probably just compounding the problem. What good had it done her anyway, where sleep was concerned? No, she was going to stay put in her bed until she either found sleep or the sunrise.

The only trouble was that she still wasn’t finding either, no matter how much time passed. She’d long since given up looking at her watch, as that was no help. Truly this was the longest night of her life.

It seemed there was nothing else for it but to be alone with her thoughts. And little though she liked it, her thoughts kept turning towards her dreams, or visions, or whatever they were.

She recalled the things she’d said to Honey that evening. WAS it that evening? It felt like years ago now, like another life entirely.

“Why should someone I don’t know send ME an invitation to anything? I refuse to attend a party where I’m wanted because of my connections.”

If there was any truth to her visions—a big “if” at best—then perhaps Raisin really did want to meet her. Perhaps Honey had talked her up to Raisin already. Granted, someone else’s description of you could only be so accurate, but still, Honey never lied or exaggerated—not on purpose. And visions notwithstanding, that did sound like the kind of thing Honey would do. Surely she wouldn’t have offered Vanilla the invitation in the first place if Raisin knew literally NOTHING about her?

“I’m not the party sort—it’s all a bunch of false glamour, and it’s a waste of money.”

Well, there was of course still the cleaning up part, but the vision of the party that she’d seen didn’t seem false. At least, not the cheerful, happy smiles of the dogs who were attending. There was something there, some bond Vanilla couldn’t quite put her finger on…. Camaraderie? Ordinarily she would have dismissed this, but…was it only because she had never experienced it herself? Was that really fair?

“Birthdays happen every year—why go all out to celebrate it?”

True, but it was only one day out of 365, and it gave a sense of routine, of regularity, to observe the same day every year. And if one’s owners could afford it, was it really so wrong to spoil their pet that often, just once out of hundreds of days? It was different from spoiling a pet EVERY day out of the year.

As for her allowance, which she’d said she wouldn’t spend on someone she didn’t know…. Well, what else was she going to do with it? She wanted very little for herself. She wasn’t the sort who went out and bought the next thing that might prove diverting. She had little use for it—what was so wrong with using it to make someone else happy? Especially if you didn’t have any emotional attachment to them? There were no strings attached then—no expectations of anything in return. Was that not a kind gesture?

And the party of her imagination had seemed to be so much fun, and she couldn’t participate in it….

But still, could she change that quickly? She was four years old already, and change doesn’t happen overnight. (If this even was still the same night—she wasn’t sure, she wasn’t sure of ANYTHING anymore….) Even if she wanted to, she was still plagued by doubt.

And fear.

After all, she was only gambling based on images she’d seen in a dream, if it was a dream. She could just as easily be wrong. It could just as easily be that she’d be humiliated and traumatized and left alone, just like every time before. Did she really want to put herself through that again, just for the feeble hope of making a new friend?

The sun was starting to rise.

Finally.

At least now she wouldn’t be plagued by any more weird dreams.

She waited—it was still early yet, by the dimness of the light outside.

She checked her watch again, forgetting that she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do it anymore. After all, she was finally awake now.

12:00 am.

No.

No, it wasn’t.

12:00 am.

She threw her watch against the wall in frustration, not caring if it broke, not caring if it made noise.

How could it be MIDNIGHT? She must still be dreaming, she had to be. Would she EVER wake up? Was she trapped in some state of lucid dreaming limbo? How did one even get oneself out of such a thing? She’d never learned anything on the subject—it had never been an interest of hers.

She now wished she had.

The light got a bit brighter. It was certainly taking as long as if it were sunrise.

And yet….

This was the oddest thing of all—and a little disturbing.

The light wasn’t bright, not this time. Just as bright as you might expect morning to be, except….

Except it wasn’t morning, or anything that in any way resembled it. It took her a few seconds to put her finger on what was wrong, what was so eerie, so…otherworldly about it.

Then it hit her like an avalanche.

“There’s no color.”

Indeed, there wasn’t. It looked as though all the colors had been sapped out of everything—not that there was much of anything to look at. Vanilla’s room was starting to resemble the first draft of a comic, done in pencil shadings, without ink and without colored paint. Outside it was no different. Whites, darks, grays, that was it. And there wasn’t much of anything to look at, either, not like usual. The only real object that stood out was Vanilla’s shadow.

Or…WAS it her shadow? It looked like her shadow, the way it looked when she was wearing her hood. She could make out her ears and snout under the hood. She even waved her arm and sure enough the shadow responded.

“It’s just your shadow, Vanilla, you’re more than intelligent enough not to be fooled.”

Then why did it seem so menacing? Why did it seem like it had eyes, even if they were eyes Vanilla couldn’t see? Eyes staring right at her, into her, and through her?

The shadow got longer as the sun (if it WAS the sun) rose in the sky, and that was when it hit her. Not all at once, like an avalanche, but more like a gentle snowfall that she hadn’t been aware of until she was half-buried in it.

Her shadow was on the wrong side.

She didn’t have a facepalm moment this time, though, as she had before. Now she only felt worried. The source of the light was coming from the same direction on which her shadow was being cast—and the shadow was advancing toward the window.

Without really thinking, Vanilla got out of bed again and followed her shadow toward the window. Even though the glass window was shut, Vanilla found herself able to walk right through as though it were open and….

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Last edited by ChewyChewy on Fri Aug 06, 2010 7:46 pm, edited 4 times in total.



Fri Aug 06, 2010 2:53 am
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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
yesh! My hunger for update is sated...for now. But I am waiting for more, do not forget...

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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
Okay this is getting more mysterious after each update :o

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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
This is...kind've scaring me now. That's a weird, awesome, creepy dream alright.

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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
:lol: Glad you're liking it. ;)

Anyway, I wasn't expecting this to be the last chapter, but that's how it turned out, so...here's the end of "The Longest Night"!



Chapter 8



Somehow it was as though Vanilla had gotten turned around, because (after following her shadow through a colorless world for she didn’t know how long) it seemed as though she were returning to her bedroom. But something frightened her about it, and it wasn’t just the lack of color.

There on the bed was a full-grown Shetland sheepdog, wearing a hooded jacket that was too small for her. She was also partly under the covers of her bed, so that only her face was visible, and not much of that.

Scratch that—there was also a sock puppet on her right paw.

Sock puppet?

That couldn’t be right…. Besides, it wasn’t even a puppet—it was just a sock on the Sheltie’s paw. No eyes, no ears, no nose, no nothing—not drawn on, not glued on, nothing. Just an ordinary sock.

“What do you want to do today, Vanilla?” said the Sheltie.

Vanilla was so taken aback by the scene that she almost responded. But before she had a chance, the sock said: “The same thing we do every day, Vanilla.”

“Oh, and what’s that?” said the Sheltie to her sock. “Try to take over the world?”

“Now you know that’s not it,” said the sock. “Don’t be funny.”

“I’m sorry.”

“The same thing we do every day is play mental chess with each other. Even though we always end up in stalemate.”

“Why IS that?”

The sock sighed. “Because we’re evenly matched, that’s why. If I were better at it, I could beat you, if you were better at it, you could beat me.”

The Sheltie nodded, then checked her watch.

“Uh-oh, time to feed Vanilla.”

Vanilla watched in horror as the Sheltie put another sock onto her left paw and addressed it.

“Are you hungry, Vanilla?”

“I’m famished, Vanilla,” said the sock.

“I’m afraid all we have is dog food.”

“Better than nothing.”

Vanilla couldn’t stand to watch any more of this. “STOP it! STOP it!” she yelled at her older self. “Can’t you see what’s happening to you?! Your personality’s splitting! Your identity’s splitting! You’re going out of your mind!”

Vanilla’s shadow loomed larger than ever, though the older Sheltie didn’t seem to notice, nor did her sock puppets. Vanilla soon felt herself engulfed by the shadow, and then it was as though she were falling out of the window, nineteen floors down (even though her window was on the ground floor), falling…falling…falling….

* * * * *

THUD!

Vanilla rubbed her sore nose where it bumped the floor.

Her ears perked up as she looked around. The room was bright, and colorful. She looked out the window. The sun was up.

The night was over.

At long last, Vanilla was awake.

She lay down on the floor and began to cry.

* * * * *

Vanilla’s eyes were stinging with salt, the fur on her face was cold and matted with tears, and her throat was dry by the time she sat up. That had easily been the longest night of her life, and she had no desire to go through such an ordeal ever again.

Nevertheless, she spent some time thinking about what she’d seen. She recalled her memories, and how they’d shaped who she was. She hadn’t always been like this. Intelligent and shy, yes, but she hadn’t always been so aloof, so…snobbish. And while the events that had happened to her weren’t her fault, it had been her decision what to do about them.

She recalled the junkyard dogs she’d seen, and noted how even though she had more of a reason to be happy than they were, they had been happier than she was. And she recalled the images of the party, and how much fun it had seemed to be, and how nice the apparition of Raisin had been. She honestly did seem like the sort of person that Vanilla would like to meet, and get to know better. Sure, she was an enthusiastic, peppy sort, but if there was any truth to that vision she was also intelligent and intellectual—the sort of dog that Vanilla wished she was, but wasn’t.

And she recalled that nightmarish last vision of herself as a Gollum-like horror story. She doubted full well that anything like that would ever happen to her. She’d never been a fan of sock puppets, and surely she was too intelligent to allow her personality to split like that. And yet…she did already talk to herself sometimes, since she often felt like there was no one else to talk to.

She checked her watch.

11:53 am.

“That late already?” thought Vanilla to herself. But there was still time. Still seven minutes.

She didn’t still have the invitation—she’d given it back to Honey—but she had memorized the phone number on it. She took out her phone and dialed the number.

“Muffin residence.”

“Hello…this is Vanilla Cake. I was invited to Raisin Muffin’s birthday party, and I’m calling to RSVP.”

She took a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves and slow her heartbeat before speaking again.

“I’ll be there.”

* * * * *

Mr. Cake had driven off, and Honey and Vanilla were now walking up to the Muffins’ house. Vanilla had a small box in her paws, containing her birthday present to Raisin—a single chess piece, that of a queen.

It wasn’t much of a gift, but it was all she could give on such short notice. Besides, once Raisin learned how much it meant to her, surely she would appreciate the gesture. After all, now her own chess set would be incomplete without this queen. It was no small act of generosity for her to give it up.

Vanilla stopped.

“It’s okay, Vanilla, you can do this,” said Honey.

“I’m still afraid….”

“I’m right here. There’s nothing to be afraid of. The first step’s always the hardest, right?”

Vanilla took a deep breath, and nodded. "Thanks for coming with me, Honey.... I really appreciate it."

Honey smiled. "Of course, Vanilla."

Vanilla continued with Honey for a few more steps and then, as though she were riding a bicycle for the first time, she continued on in front of Honey to the door.

Mustering every last ounce of courage she had, she rang the doorbell.



THE END

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Last edited by ChewyChewy on Fri Aug 06, 2010 6:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.



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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
DAWWWW, she made it to the party *applauses* :D :D
That was a very good tale, Chewy. Hope you'll give us other gems! Bravo! ;)

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Fri Aug 06, 2010 3:09 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
I smiled at the end. It was really good! The sock puppet...part...was really quite creepy (curse my mental imaging!). This was gold though. Vanilla's character is really deep (and amazing!), and is just great to hear whilst she goes through such...torturous dreams (same dream, differant parts).

Great, Chewy. Nice ending, and brilliant story. I really enjoyed Reading it!

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Fri Aug 06, 2010 3:13 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
A very good story Chewy, *appluads*

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Fri Aug 06, 2010 3:32 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
Thank you all very much for reading, and for your kind words! :D

44R0NM10, I'm not going to ask about your mental imaging.... But I do appreciate your compliments! :D Vanilla is partly based on myself, so it's easy to write for her.

Now, has anyone figured out what this story is based on?

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Fri Aug 06, 2010 4:35 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
Personal experience?:o

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Jason Mraz wrote:
My goal is to show everyone that they, too, can do what they love to do.

Daggy wrote:
Look a shadowpriest, what a cutie.... POW


Fri Aug 06, 2010 4:36 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
Woah, don't take that the wrong way. I just closet eyes and imagine what everything looks like! You make it fun and easy to do!

And a christmasd carol? Is that what this is based on?

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Fri Aug 06, 2010 4:39 pm
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Post Re: The Longest Night--A "Pet Friendly" Fanfic
44R0NM10 wrote:
Woah, don't take that the wrong way. I just closet eyes and imagine what everything looks like! You make it fun and easy to do!

And a christmasd carol? Is that what this is based on?


Oh, I see. Well, thanks for the compliment! :D That's what I try to go for in my writing, and I don't always know how well I succeed.... :oops:

And you guessed it. :P

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Fri Aug 06, 2010 4:40 pm
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