2

After watching around thirty minutes of random TV channels, I wanted to go outside. I knew about the kidnappings and that they could kidnap me too, but it felt stuffy in this room. And my dad blatantly slipped me a credit card while I was unloading my luggage onto the trolley and said, 'have fun' while winking. Strong indicators that he knows how bored it could get. And gave me some money to get myself out of trouble.

'It would be a waste of an opportunity to let the credit card rot in my purse forever,' I thought to myself.

After putting a knife in my purse and picking up a map of the city at the front desk. I asked the front desk clerk, "where is the most amusing place in the city,"

He answered very quickly and passionately, "Oh, that would be the Blacklight district. It's named that way because it rarely gets sun because of the largest tree hovering over it. Not to mention, my family is there and can show you around the shops and displays."

I took out a pen and asked him to put a dot where they were on the map. To which, he giddily did so.

"There are lots of museums and street performers with such thrilling acts! The food there is also one of a kind because of the specialized habitat," he said, circling a few places on the map. He continued, "just don't tell anyone about it. We don't want it to become a tourist trap after all."

A few bus rides and a short train ride away, I arrived at the Blacklight district. I could have taken a private ride in a fancy car, but that would draw attention and be less of an experience.

It was pitch black but filled with colorful lights and places. Canals looked to be painted right from a famous piece of art. Lights dangled on lines of gold from bridges crossing the canal, making it look like glowing gold was reaching for the water. Some playgrounds had artificial sunlight advertised on signs in front of them. Children played blissfully on them.

I went deeper into the district, and the buildings got more close and compact. In some areas, the ground was glowing to provide more light, and wisps of rainbow lights circled around the normal-sized trees. Some trees even glow on their own. Bioluminescent koi fish, tadpoles, and eels swam gracefully in ponds and canals. The tadpoles moved in a rhythmic pattern as some kids were waving a stick in the water and sitting on a patch of grass. Other kids (must have been visitors like me) were fiddling with luminescent seaweed. It made their faces sparkle with joy and light.

Everything was so much different than what I expected. I expected a dark and dreary place, full of sketchy shops with mysterious items. The kind of place you will find a monkey paw that would curse you and ruin your life. Instead, I got something so much better—a place filled with energy and creativity. I could still find some shops with exciting items, but I was looking forward to seeing the monkey paw fabled for people to find in dodgy places.

After asking numerous people where the front desk clerk's family was (he told me his name was Timbolt Anderson and to ask around for the Anderson name), I finally found his family home. It looked like the home you would have all of your fond memories in. Some fruit trees were on the front lawn. Some already bearing cherries. And others radiated a pale green light. Extending to even the tiniest of branches and leaves. Even though it didn't look like a mansion, it didn't have any butlers or servants, and it mostly didn't have a private chef, I could tell that it has more love in a single building than my family has ever had in any of our houses.

I knocked cautiously on the door.

"Coming!" a voice said from the inside.

An old lady with silver hair answered. Her wrinkles bent with her smile. She seemed so much more different than my own grandmother. My grandmother looked like she was always frowning. Even when she wasn't doing it on purpose.

The lady's eyes widened, "Oh, you must be who Tim was talking about over the phone!" she said excitingly.

"Well, don't just stand there; come in! Come in!" she said, beckoning me with her hands for me to come.

She turned around, her hairpin shined with the delicate web of rubies, amethyst, malachite, and other clear crystals connected and knotted in a swirling pattern with a thin gold wire mounted on a black rectangular clip. It was holding up part of her thick silver hair and was strikingly dark against it.

"What took you so long? It's nearly dinner time! You must be hungry. Do you want some dinner? We'll set you a place at the table," she said, not waiting for my response. Her dark red casual dress had a pattern of white and black flowers that swayed with every motion.

I didn't even realize it was almost six o'clock already until I looked up at a clock stuck to a wall. I wasn't going to complain about the free food either. To be honest, if I wasn't walking around a city like this, with many distractions, then I would have realized I was hungry a long time ago.

Taking my shoes off, I heard the lady say, "our son told us to expect visitors you see. He said that you're new here and need a guide," she paused for a moment to think, "so how about this, after dinner, my grandson over here, Aric," she pointed to a young man reading on the sofa, who looked to be only a few years younger than me, "will show you around this district. It's pretty easy to get lost or scammed if you aren't familiar with the ways here. All of the best spots are also a tad bit… uh... precarious if you don't know the way."

"Oh, that right!" I started, looking up at her, "what should I call you? Are you okay with Mrs. Anderson? Or would you prefer a different name to go by?"

"Oh dearie, you're too sweet!" she said, smiling," just call me granny! It's what everyone calls me! I haven't reached my old age for nothing, you know."

I couldn't help but let out a little muffled laugh.

She walked over to the dinner table. "Please have a seat, dearie!" she said, pulling a wooden seat out from underneath the table.

We whipped around and yelled into a nearby hallway, "girls! It's dinner time!"

There was a flurry of demonic screaming; two little girls appeared from the shadows of the hallway. One was wearing a green cape and the other a purple one. Both of them had dolls in one of their hands.

The one with the green cape went up to me and said, "granny, do we have a friend over today?" while tugging on my own skirt.

"Yes, dear. What is your name? My son left out little details like that, you see." she said, reaching for the child, who was now playing with my hand. Fascinated by how it moved. As if she didn't have one of her own.

"Ah yes! My name is Silene, Silene Abruzi. You can just call me Silene." the child playing with my hand immediately tried to pronounce it.

"Si… Sile... Sila…" I picked her up and set her on my lap.

"You and your sister can just call me Sil," I said, taping her nose.

Her sister got jealous and said, "I want to come too!" They're both so cute I couldn't resist only picking one up.

Granny came and picked up the one with the green cape off of my lap and said, "sorry, they have been missing their parents very much since they dropped them off. They were worried about the kidnappings. They are a paranoid bunch. A lot of the kidnappings have been happening around their area, you see. And they have to stay there for work. So they sent the little ones here."

I looked at her, puzzled, "you mean none of the kidnappings have happened here?"

"Somehow, yes. It's a little odd, though. With all the dark and sketchy places around here, it's a tad bit odd that none of them have happened here. In fact," she put a finger to her bottom lip like she was thinking, "now that I think about it, there are considerably fewer kidnappings in dark, gloomy places like ours. My husband and I were looking at a… umm... ah! A graph! Just this morning, we were looking at a graph that showed where and at when the kidnappings were happening. Not surprisingly, most of them were reported early in the morning and at dusk."

She took a deep sigh, "anyway! Let's move onto happier topics."

"So, are ya going to get together with my son or not?"

I nearly spit out some water I was drinking.

"I'm just kidding! He's way too old for you. You're the age of my grandson, for crying out loud!" She bent over and whispered in my ear, "but I wouldn't mind some great-grandsons and daughters if you know what I mean."

This made me laugh a little.

Aric, carrying a dish to the table, rolled his eyes and said, "granny, you're making her uncomfortable."

"What! I'm just saying…" she then dwindled off and took a seat at the table.

Dinner was served, at some point, her husband came home. Not surprisingly, he was just as jolly as his wife.

After a couple of spillings of liquid and little bits of crapes (by the girls) and Aric (the grandson) cleaning it up, granny said, "well, it's time to show you around, isn't it?"

"Okay," I said, getting up and moving towards my shoes.

"What are you doing, dearie? You don't honestly believe you can go in what you're wearing. Do ya?"

"Why not?" I replied.

"Don't get me wrong, you have nice clothes on. But to look so... formal... in such an informal place would make you stick out. And not in a good way. Not to mention, once the sun goes down, it gets frigid really quickly. And a white dress without sleeves or pants will make you catch a cold. And we wouldn't want that now, would we? Then again, you don't need to if you don't want to."

I figured, why not?

She giddily (just like her son) pulled me to what seemed to be a teenager's room and pulled out a box of clothes.

"These are my daughters' clothes. They will probably fit you. Might be a bit big though."

She pointed to two parts of the box, "left is pants, and right are tops. Have fun picking them out! Just come out when you're done" she said, closing the door.

Many of the clothes were very fashionable, so it wasn't that hard to pick out an outfit.

The moment I came out of the room, granny pulled me aside again. "Come on! One more thing we have to do!" her son and she were very much alike in their excitement about things they like.

She pulled me into the bathroom and sat me in front of a large mirror. "What are we doing?"

"Doing your hair, of course!" she answered enthusiastically.

I didn't mind. In fact, I wanted to see what she was going to do.

"You have such beautiful thick dark hair. It's so silky too! You will have to tell me what conditioner and shampoo line you use when you get back."

Around three minutes later, she said, "look up! How do you like it?"

My mom never did my hair, so I don't know you could do so much in three minutes. I just felt some tugging and tightening. But she weaved three dutch braids side by side on the left side of my head. The rest of my hair flipped to one side and went down in glossy and soft waves. Keep in mind that my hair is naturally as straight as a bone. And to get waves like these, especially not kinky ones, I would have to have my hair dry in a braid and then put more than a healthy amount of hair spray. So to do all of this in three minutes is just a tiny bit impossible. And that it perfectly complimented my face shape. The gold hair clips with dotted imitation emeralds, meant to hold some pieces away from my face, drew attention to my dark purple eyes.

I saw my brow furrow and my forehead wrinkle in confusion. Granny saw my confusion.

"Oh dear, you look confused," she said, with an apologetic face.

"How did you just do all of this in three minutes."

"You must not have many people with magic in your home country. There are a lot of people with magic here. Most of them are useless like mine. I can do little hairstyles like this in no time! And you're already so pretty I only had to dabble a little to bring out your best features."

She gave me a jacket then Aric and I went out. I didn't know this then, but I would never return to that house to return those clothes—the clothes of a dead woman.

"What do you want to see?" Aric asked.

I looked around. It would be like a child trying to just pick out one thing from a toy store. So I asked, "what is the coolest thing here?"

"Oh! That would be the street performers. We have a lot of people with magic in this district. So we have a lot of people that don't know what to do with it," he looked down a road and adjusted his round circle glasses, "there's a really cool street performer back here," then pointed down a side road.

His looks did not fit his childish behavior. He looked so serious with his black-rimmed glasses and dyed dark red hair. And his resting face looked like he wanted to kill anything that got in his way. I don't know how, but he made his fragile features look intimidating.

Lights floated around aimlessly in little lanterns. Some took the shape of animals. Little weasels, birds, and fish weaved in and out without a care in the world. A glowing green and iridescent blue butterfly that was actually alive landed on my hair.

He looked up and held his finger out. "The insects with little to no natural predators are fairly friendly. There are also close to no birds, so the butterflies don't have any natural predators in the Darklight district because not many animals can live with little sunlight. But a lot of insects and water life have. So we get that. These particular butterflies are also known to like animals' warmth!" he said, like a living factbook.

"So then," I started, "why don't more people come to the Blacklight district if it has things like this?"

"Most people make assumptions about how it is. That it's dangerous to come here. Sadly, many people also don't like how many mixes and people with magic are here. Assumptions and hatred about mixes and people with magic have pushed them into the Blacklight district." he took a deep breath, "assumptions like 'mixes are more animal than human,' and 'people with magic are bound to be corrupt.' There unfounded and based on just a few people who did bad things that happen to be a part of the minority,"

"That's pretty sad," I said with a soft voice. It was a sensitive topic for him; it seemed.

He let out a little laugh, "now this is the safest place in the city! And people still won't swallow their pride to come here!"

He then looked at me with a puzzled face, "wait, you don't have this kind of stuff in your home city?"

"No," I said, as we arrived at a small crowd gathered around the street performers.

I looked back at him, "if you can fight, then you can fight. If you can contribute to your government or society, then you can do just that. The discrimination is still there. But minorities were never pushed into one place, not to this caliber."

The crowd was thin enough that it was easy to see through it. Even though we were at the back.

Two girls danced and circled around each other. Pulling different colored wisps of light with each of their limbs. One had a blue two-piece collared dress, silver along the rim of clothing, and the other the same one, but in red and the silver replaced with gold. The one with the blue-colored dress had face paint that made her amber-gold doe-like eyes stick out; the one with the red dress had the same dark-themed face paint framing her light green eyes. They both looked so similar to each other. The same small graceful build, same small nose, big eyes, and full lips. Even the same twisted black and white gazelle horns with bright gold lacing the twists of them. They must have been twins. Framing their small faces were two pieces of colored hair; the rest was pulled into a half ponytail. The one with the blue dress had moonlight blue wisps of hair framing her face, and the half ponytail was a complicated dyed mixture of an assortment of blue, green, and purple hair. The one with the red dress had the exact same hairstyle, but the coloring was replaced with a red, orange, and purple mixture of hair.

They both danced gracefully. Wisps of light matching their nearly water-like moving outfits swerved in the air. Staying for a second before disappearing. It was like smoke was dancing. Weaving, spinning, and graceful flips in the air seemed to last for seconds on end. The glowing soft red and stary blue whispies traced them all, almost like action lines in a comic book. Making your eyes keep up with the dancers.

They were terrific, and either could be professional dancers easily.

"Why are they not doing this professionally? They could rake in quite a profit," I asked Airc.

He looked me in the eyes, "do you really think anyone from this city would allow them to perform on such a large scale?"

"I would think so, but from what you have told me about this city's problems and the inhabitants' gruesome behavioral patterns, I would think not."

"They did actually try once. They were accepted. But they were threatened. And after having the top half of their ears chopped off by some of the competition goons, they quit out of fear." bitter hatred was ablaze in Aric's eyes, "they never got justice because of 'lack of evidence. Most people know the police were just paid off. Though, the news report never said that."

Looking closer, you could see. Their ears were human-sized but different. More pointed, ruff, and cone-shaped. They probably got cosmetic surgery to make them look more normal.

Arics phone rang. He looked at me then went to the edge of the crowd. Shortly after, his face looked like someone just died right in front of him. He hung up after saying something.

I went over to see if everything was okay when he said with a monotone voice, "Uncle Tim was kidnapped,"