HOME | DD

Description
The first thing Sixby ever remembered was waking up. She had woken up in the middle of an empty street, it was raining, it was dark and she was cold. So far, that was all she knew. She sat up, propping her tiny frame up with shaking arms and looked around. The street was lined with gnarled, broken trees and angular houses that had broken fences and quite a few, worryingly, had gravestones in the front garden.
Sixby sighed, and pushed her sodden, straw blonde hair out of her face. “I look like shit.” She muttered to herself, glancing around. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a red plastic hair slide in the gutter. She crawled up to it and pinned back some of her rat-tail hair. Disturbingly, she didn’t really know who she was, where she was and she had a peculiarly empty feeling in her chest.

--

“Shouting, sometimes screaming. I stand there and take it. What good would retaliating do? What right does he have to be mad, its his fault.

He’s angry at mum again. Angry that she loves me, because I’m not what he wanted. I’m not ‘Halloween’ enough, apparently. I don’t even know what that means!

Why can’t I stop crying?! Why am I covered in stuffing? It’s whole head? Off? I can’t stand this!! It’s all his fault! It’s all his..”
Sixby sat bolt upright, trying to restart her lungs. Her hands were clenched, hard, grabbing the sides of the unfamiliar bed.
She put her head in her hands, trying to scour the latest image of her 7 year old self from her head.

Bloody flashbacks.

--

“You’ve lost your heart too?”
“I think so.”
The white haired lad stared curiously at her, maybe for a little longer than normal. Sixby was starting to feel uncomfortable, she fiddled with the now filthy shirt she had woken up in.
He stared at her again, narrowing his eyes in an overly cartoony way. Sixby would have giggled if she wasn’t so lost. She noticed his long black coat, with official looking silver bits on. “what are you, some kind of club?” she teased. All of the his bravado instantly vanished, he glanced at the ground and reached up to rearrange the silver fastenings of his coat. “it’s.. it’s called organization infinity..” he mumbled, “they, well they kinda take in people like you.. and me..”
“you mean people with no heart?”
“yeah..”
Sixby gave a short, quiet laugh. She looked up at the guy with uneven, ivory hair- He was checking for her reaction. Well, she decided, I’m sick of not knowing anyone.
“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice clear for the first time in the month since she had woke up.
Her sudden confidence seemed to boost her companion’s as well. “Axtor” he stated, grinning in a bizarre, wonky way, “who’re you?”
Her new found confidence slipped. The name Sixby had been following her round, but it didn’t feel like it had been there all the time. “I think it might be Sixby..” she said softly.
“Then it is. It won’t feel right for a bit, but you get used to it.”

“Axtor?”
“What?”
Sixby smiled,
“Thank you.”

--

It had now been 3 months.
Sixby still couldn’t remember what had happened, but Axtor said that happened to most people. She had been staying in various bedsits around where she had discovered was ‘Halloween town’, and managed to scrounge up a few second hand clothes. The white and orange shirt she had woken up in had been getting pretty manky after a few weeks, and the only information she had managed to glean from it was that it belonged to the Halloween town bakery, and she didn’t even know where that was. Axtor had told her about what he called ‘the Organization’, and she had asked how he joined. “well, they just sort of… know.” he had said.
“know?”
“yeah, they pick up when nobodies are created.. umm, uncreated really… and then you’re just kind of, automatically put forward.”
“what happens if you’re denied?”
“no idea.”

Now she was sitting on her latest bed, with Axtor opposite her on a creaky old chair. He came to chat to her whenever he wasn’t on a mission, and they usually spent the entire time with their pale heads together, talking about anything and everything. Today they had been telling the worst jokes they knew and Axtor had told her about some of the weird folks back at castle oblivion. Now Sixby couldn’t hold her worries inside.
“So, what happens when they accept you?” She quizzed.
“well, they give you the coat, and your proof of existence..”
“proof of existence?” Sixby interrupted, “what’s that?”
“well, it’s two things really. You get a number and two words to describe you.. like, mine’s ‘The Rowdy Bugger.” He explained, obviously proud of his portrayal.
“So you don’t really exist until you get it?”
The small, dark room fell silent.
“Axtor..” she whispered, staring solidly at the floor.
He immediately picked up on the drop in her voice, “What’s wrong?” He said, concerned.
Sixby slowly raised her strange, buttercup yellow eyes to meet his black irises. “Is something wrong with me?” She articulated, steadily to make sure it came out right. Axtor sat up, as though he’d been electrocuted, “what?!” he exclaimed “of course nothing’s wrong with you! Why would you think that??”
“well, theyhaven’taccepted me yet..” Sixby cried, her words spilling out in clumps. She felt terrible, she had been in limbo for too long and still had these dreams of what she presumed was her childhood, but the little girl in them had shiny brown hair and Sixby’s mop happened to look a lot like straw. “I mean,” she blurted out, more to herself than axtor, “I don’tevenknow what my power.. Uh… element isyetand… and Ijustwokeup in a street, I mean whatifthey can’t acceptmeoriftheywon’t because I’m..”
“SIXBY!” Axtor shouted. Sixby hadn’t realised that her voice had risen to a shriek and that she had been waving her arms about hysterically. Axtor had shot out of his chair and was holding her face up to his, with a hard look in his eyes. They were narrowed. he tried to figure her out- nobodies didn’t usually feel so strongly.
“listen, Sixby” he told her urgently, “there is nothing wrong with you, you hear me? Nothing. They’re just.. busy at the moment. Really busy. Okay?”
“’kay.” Sixby mumbled, now sounding more like a moody child.
“Right, now, have you ever met Ixpei?”

Description
The first thing Sixby ever remembered was waking up. She had woken up in the middle of an empty street, it was raining, it was dark and she was cold. So far, that was all she knew. She sat up, propping her tiny frame up with shaking arms and looked around. The street was lined with gnarled, broken trees and angular houses that had broken fences and quite a few, worryingly, had gravestones in the front garden.
Sixby sighed, and pushed her sodden, straw blonde hair out of her face. “I look like shit.” She muttered to herself, glancing around. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a red plastic hair slide in the gutter. She crawled up to it and pinned back some of her rat-tail hair. Disturbingly, she didn’t really know who she was, where she was and she had a peculiarly empty feeling in her chest.

--

“Shouting, sometimes screaming. I stand there and take it. What good would retaliating do? What right does he have to be mad, its his fault.

He’s angry at mum again. Angry that she loves me, because I’m not what he wanted. I’m not ‘Halloween’ enough, apparently. I don’t even know what that means!

Why can’t I stop crying?! Why am I covered in stuffing? It’s whole head? Off? I can’t stand this!! It’s all his fault! It’s all his..”
Sixby sat bolt upright, trying to restart her lungs. Her hands were clenched, hard, grabbing the sides of the unfamiliar bed.
She put her head in her hands, trying to scour the latest image of her 7 year old self from her head.

Bloody flashbacks.

--

“You’ve lost your heart too?”
“I think so.”
The white haired lad stared curiously at her, maybe for a little longer than normal. Sixby was starting to feel uncomfortable, she fiddled with the now filthy shirt she had woken up in.
He stared at her again, narrowing his eyes in an overly cartoony way. Sixby would have giggled if she wasn’t so lost. She noticed his long black coat, with official looking silver bits on. “what are you, some kind of club?” she teased. All of the his bravado instantly vanished, he glanced at the ground and reached up to rearrange the silver fastenings of his coat. “it’s.. it’s called organization infinity..” he mumbled, “they, well they kinda take in people like you.. and me..”
“you mean people with no heart?”
“yeah..”
Sixby gave a short, quiet laugh. She looked up at the guy with uneven, ivory hair- He was checking for her reaction. Well, she decided, I’m sick of not knowing anyone.
“What’s your name?” she asked, her voice clear for the first time in the month since she had woke up.
Her sudden confidence seemed to boost her companion’s as well. “Axtor” he stated, grinning in a bizarre, wonky way, “who’re you?”
Her new found confidence slipped. The name Sixby had been following her round, but it didn’t feel like it had been there all the time. “I think it might be Sixby..” she said softly.
“Then it is. It won’t feel right for a bit, but you get used to it.”

“Axtor?”
“What?”
Sixby smiled,
“Thank you.”

--

It had now been 3 months.
Sixby still couldn’t remember what had happened, but Axtor said that happened to most people. She had been staying in various bedsits around where she had discovered was ‘Halloween town’, and managed to scrounge up a few second hand clothes. The white and orange shirt she had woken up in had been getting pretty manky after a few weeks, and the only information she had managed to glean from it was that it belonged to the Halloween town bakery, and she didn’t even know where that was. Axtor had told her about what he called ‘the Organization’, and she had asked how he joined. “well, they just sort of… know.” he had said.
“know?”
“yeah, they pick up when nobodies are created.. umm, uncreated really… and then you’re just kind of, automatically put forward.”
“what happens if you’re denied?”
“no idea.”

Now she was sitting on her latest bed, with Axtor opposite her on a creaky old chair. He came to chat to her whenever he wasn’t on a mission, and they usually spent the entire time with their pale heads together, talking about anything and everything. Today they had been telling the worst jokes they knew and Axtor had told her about some of the weird folks back at castle oblivion. Now Sixby couldn’t hold her worries inside.
“So, what happens when they accept you?” She quizzed.
“well, they give you the coat, and your proof of existence..”
“proof of existence?” Sixby interrupted, “what’s that?”
“well, it’s two things really. You get a number and two words to describe you.. like, mine’s ‘The Rowdy Bugger.” He explained, obviously proud of his portrayal.
“So you don’t really exist until you get it?”
The small, dark room fell silent.
“Axtor..” she whispered, staring solidly at the floor.
He immediately picked up on the drop in her voice, “What’s wrong?” He said, concerned.
Sixby slowly raised her strange, buttercup yellow eyes to meet his black irises. “Is something wrong with me?” She articulated, steadily to make sure it came out right. Axtor sat up, as though he’d been electrocuted, “what?!” he exclaimed “of course nothing’s wrong with you! Why would you think that??”
“well, theyhaven’taccepted me yet..” Sixby cried, her words spilling out in clumps. She felt terrible, she had been in limbo for too long and still had these dreams of what she presumed was her childhood, but the little girl in them had shiny brown hair and Sixby’s mop happened to look a lot like straw. “I mean,” she blurted out, more to herself than axtor, “I don’tevenknow what my power.. Uh… element isyetand… and Ijustwokeup in a street, I mean whatifthey can’t acceptmeoriftheywon’t because I’m..”
“SIXBY!” Axtor shouted. Sixby hadn’t realised that her voice had risen to a shriek and that she had been waving her arms about hysterically. Axtor had shot out of his chair and was holding her face up to his, with a hard look in his eyes. They were narrowed. he tried to figure her out- nobodies didn’t usually feel so strongly.
“listen, Sixby” he told her urgently, “there is nothing wrong with you, you hear me? Nothing. They’re just.. busy at the moment. Really busy. Okay?”
“’kay.” Sixby mumbled, now sounding more like a moody child.
“Right, now, have you ever met Ixpei?”