A Look Into James' Head (An epic tale of romance and tragedy

[Vixie Moondew]

July 5th, 2001, maybe 2002

It was a nice day. We were supposed to be moving to Florida soon... it had been about six months ago since Mom had announced it. I had been a little disapproving of the idea at first, but then I realized what that meant. It would be good for me, plus it would make Mom happy.

I turned the page in my book, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It was a generally new release, or at the very least a new buy.

I yawned, waiting. Any minute now they'd tell me to grab my book and get in the car. Of course, I'd have to grab my little bag of stuff. My Gameboy, a couple extra books, stuff like that.

The minute never came. Nor the hour, the day, the year... it still hadn't come three years later. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

The doorbell rang. I looked out the window. There was an official, yet dumpy sort of guy in a car, and a teenager heading to the door with some sort of documents in his hand. The door opened, a hand came out and grabbed the papers.

The seal that broke my life. Nothing was as it would have been.

I heard Mom crying a few minutes later. Being the cruel soul I am, I ignored it for as long as I could stand. Eventually I went out on the idea of getting some water. I found her with the papers. She gestured me toward her, and I read them.

Dad had made a bunch of lies, saying he had never known about it and never approved of the move. The day before he had taken me to say good-bye to all of my friends! That dirty little liar. The court had sided with him, even though they had no clue.

The rest of the day was spent with raging fury. It was then that Shadow and James were born. Shadow was an output of my anger, my new sadistic side, sarcastic, made entirely of my hatred and newfound pessimism.

James was made of my new need for humor. I had before enjoyed it, but now, with no way to vent, it was a necessity. Without it, I would go insane.

Without it, I would kill.  

[Vixie Moondew]

July 6th-August, Same Year

Another problem. We'd sold the house the day before we were supposed to move. We were now...

Homeless. Sounds bad, right? Not for me. I have a friend, a rich, semi-millionaire, spoiled friend. With many, many glorious video games for the latest systems and in about a thousand dollars of debt to his parents for early allowances. So being the geniuses we were, we stayed with them. We all were best friends, pretty much. Our mothers both loved shopping, our dads, or in my case stepdad, were both geniuses with computers, and me and Billy? Inseperable.

The months went by, every once in a while Mom going off to court and returning with more bad news. Eventually the summer was over, and I needed to go to school. Problem was, the other school I used to be in? My dad was the Sunday School director there. Plus, the people there were retarded, mostly. With the exception of a few smarter kids. So we finally moved.

Of course, Billy was allergic to cats, so they stayed over at our old house, we stopped in to feed them and visit and such. Let me rephrase that: we only had one cat. I'd forgotten we didn't have Boo, our frisky little psycho-cat, and Jethro had recently died. So that left Dip, my cat. The cat to whom I would be in love with if it were a human female. Oh well. Moving on.

We took a long car-ride, with what little possessions we still had in the trunk. The rest of the stuff was still coming back from Florida, where the truck had left so it could get there before us. But Dip? He... doesn't like cars. He stood on my knees, his claws in my leg, panting like a dog and looking like a panther. The longest car ride of my life. And probably the most painful.  

[Vixie Moondew]

August, part 1

My first day of a new school. I usually tried to either keep my cool or be totally random and psycho while playing, but this was a new experience for me. I was nervous. Everyone knew: fear was something I never had. So on my first day of it, it swallowed me. There was nothing I could do to stop it, for without experience there is no knowledge.

Getting to my class took a while. Everything seemed so... odd. It was a large school, with both an elementary school AND a high school. I even thought there was a college at the time.

The ice was quickly broken as I was assigned a guide for the first week to help me around. Seth Hubschman or something. I didn't know. He was kinda fat, but besides that he was a nice guy. I eventually learned the routes to my classes and even things like the library and a few other classes. Finally, I managed to control my fear. In fact, I even managed to find a 'click'. The jocks. Of course, it was because at that time, I was decently athletic. I never pulled off anything spectacular except a few excellent dodges at a game we'd made up and an amazing save in four-square. Which resulted in a bleeding arm.

That was also new to me. Pain. I'd seen the occasional cut or bruise before, but this was horrible. My entire left forearm had scratches, cuts, bruises, and a lot of the skin was torn off. Of course, it didn't hurt much... or wouldn't to the average person. But I had low tolerance for pain.

Fortunately, I was the smartest 'jock' there was, and head of the class. There were a few rivals, one named Emily who was the best. I couldn't help it, I developed a slight crush.

Heck, as far as crushes go... those were numerous. Most were only tiny sparks with no kindling, however. I was emotionless.

The year went by. I'd developed a few enemies, a bunch of friends, and Seth had moved away. Basically, a good year. Not much happened besides school. Except part 2.  

[Vixie Moondew]

August, Part 2

The end of my athletic career. I was keeping what little athletic-ness I had by my childhood sport-- baseball.

I've always been pretty good at it. Only one problem this year.

I was what you may call 'the ball magnet.' We were up against Rubicon. I was doing what I did worst: batting. I could field 'til kingdom come, but batting wasn't my strong suit. Something about swinging a stick to hit a ball only to run around in a circle doesn't exactly satisfy my tastes.

The pitcher seemed mean. But her aim seemed off. Maybe it was because of my charm-- I wouldn't know. Two balls and a strike... man, I love that. Three balls and a strike... eww. That couldn't be normal. Another one that looked right in my alley. By now I wasn't paying attention. And it did come right up my alley. Actually, right up my hip. I fell over.

A lot of you are probably thinking 'What a wuss!' Let's just say that being hit with a hard object being thrown at about thirty miles per hour isn't exactly a party.

My dad, being the genius he was, didn't let the umpire take me out of the game to rest. No, the rocket scientist told me to 'walk it off'. He MADE me. By now my leg was swelling up and bruising. Eventually I could function decently, but I had to sit out.

A few weeks later, we had a rematch, this time on our own turf. The same pitcher. The same score. Except now there were two strikes. If I didn't hit this one, the inning would be over.

THUNK. Another one, this one right in the shoulder. Now my entire left side was paralyzed.

"Walk it off." That was dad's advice. I've never been able to walk on my hands, but there was still a slight problem. I'd really had to pee. So as soon as I could, I rushed to the bathroom. Let me rephrase that: Stinky, mouse-sized port-o-potty. It was hard to pee, seeing as I couldn't get all... set up.

Eventually the side healed. I also managed a good highlight. I was shortstop and someone had a knack for hitting it in my direction. Pop fly... clop, caught. Line drive... punk, caught. Fireball in my direction. Punk... bounce, bounce, caught. It'd fallen out of my glove, onto my arms (which were now folded, as I was getting cocky), and into my other hand, which counted as a catch.

Then my very favorite of all time: I had thrown the baseball glove up and the ball had managed to hit it and get caught inside. I caught the glove. Whee.  

[Vixie Moondew]

I had been dormant for long. In fact, I do not remember ever being awake... hmph. My name is James, master thief and swordsmaster. And to you ladies-- may I stick my sword in your sheath?

Now you know what I'm like. And it turns out there's someone that's been in control a long time. He goes by the name Inari. He's a large fox-lookin' thing... and he's overly nice, polite, and the like. By 'large' I meant about the size of the body.

I could see what I'd woken to. But there is someone else here, too. It's a tiny black creature-- humanoid. However, it is far from human. It has the same hairstyle as the human-- sort of a bowl cut that let itself go. However, every bit of it-- from the hairs on its head to the toes of its bare feet-- is black. Except for its eyes... the piercing eyes! They stare into my very soul, make me either want to kill or cry, depending on how cocky I'm feeling.

The humanoid isn't the same size as the human-- so far, I've gathered that his name is Bobby-- of course. He is, actually, a mere child. About a half a year old... it would seem. I have christened him Shadow, for his dark nature and color.