A Friend For The Insane

Chapter Fifteen: A New Beginning?

Hey there! So, this is going to be the start of the normal route, things are going to be different and I'm still going to take forever (probably) to get a chapter out, but anywhosle, I hope you enjoy this beginning and yeah, see ya! (Also I made new cover art, hope you like that!)

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The sky was a dark black. Few stars lit the night, as the lights of the city below outshone them. In the city -otherwise known as Cyber City- cars drove past billboards and buildings with flashing lights. People talked. Things were being sold, yet behind all the colors and happy smiles, the dark and dreary alleyways were lit up by only a few shades of light. At the end of one such particular alleyway, a cloaked figure lay down to rest, their legs sore from walking from place to place. The cloak that was wrapped around them shifted and turned so that the person was fully covered by it. The hood of the cloak fell, revealing a somber and tired face of a girl. She remembered that her name was Fona, or maybe it was Fornora. . . She couldn't quite recall, but she made do with what she had.

Lately, she had been feeling déjà vu: it felt like she had already done certain things before, such as walking into this alley or laying back on this specific brick wall.

It left an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She shook the feeling away, it wouldn't do her much good dwelling on it, especially since she didn't have the answers as to why she had felt that.

She leaned her head against the brick and shut her teal-colored eyes. The sounds of the city echoed slightly, she found herself asleep.

That is, until the nearby garbage lid, shot open with a loud bang that jolted her awake.

Fona's head swiveled and turned to the open garbage.

With a creased brow, she stood, walked in front of the open lid, and peered inside.

A porcelain white face jumped up and hit her smack in the forehead, sending her-as well as the figure- reeling.

Fona blinked, holding her head, and groaned in pain.

"WOAH, IF IT ISN'T A LIGHTNE<!" A strangely familiar voice spoke.

Fona's head flew away from her hand as she stared at a face that was familiar, so recognizable, yet she couldn't place what his name was.

Her pain forgotten, she took a step forward.

"GETTING A LITTLE [close] ARE WE!" He said.

Fona knew him, she had to. Her mind worked furiously to figure out his name.

Suddenly, it came to her, "Spamton! Your name is Spamton!" She said with a wide grin.

The puppet blinked "I DON'T [recall] EVER TELLING [1001 customer] THAT!"

The grin fell off her face, realizing that she had said that out loud.

"I-uh," her eyes frantically searched the area, before they landed on a slightly visible poster a few feet away. She pointed to it. "I-I saw that and thought. . . "

Her words fell on deaf ears as Spamton's glasses were filled with static, his gaze locked on the poster.

Fona waved her hand in front of his face, the static was shaken away.

His eyes stared at her.

She stared back, unsure of what to do.

"WELL, SINCE YOU KNOW MY [exquisite, and powerful] NAME, LET'S HEAR YOURS [mud]"

Her mouth opened, to tell him that he already knew her name, that they had known each other for a while now, but they had only known each other for a few minutes.

She didn't understand why she was remembering things that never happened.

"I'm Fona, n-nice to meet you" she tentatively held out her hand to the puppet who quickly grabbed it and shook it, a giant unsettling smile on his face.

"THE [pleasure] IS ALL MINE [mud]- FONA"

When her hand was returned to her, she chuckled.

She may not know the reason why she knew him before she actually knew him, but she didn't really care right now.

Spamton sat in the trash can, she looked at him. They talked about various things, such as the darkness or the darkener world, the time Spamton met another lightner like her.

After all was said and done, Fona fought to keep herself awake. She gave a brief wave to Spamton, walked to the brick wall, sat down and closed her eyes.

The honking of car horns, the commotion outside the alleyway, the last sounds she heard before she fell asleep.