New York, where the beautiful people live. Where fame never sleeps. Where wild parties reside. Man, what a life. I mean seriously, I practically live like this! Name's Danny, Danny Calico. My mother is a brimming star of Calico industries, and my dad is the boss of Calico industries. Everyone of my family is successful! My cousins being doctors, merchants, and or generals in a year of service! Not to mention most of them are stars like my mother. And for me, I was a blooming flower of talent. Yet every perfect family has their dark side. And that would be my Uncle Tom.
He always has the craziest idea of finding cryptids. He's always groveling at my dad to pay at least $10,000 for his funds, (which wasn't much considering that my dad gains 8 million bucks a year), always trying to fulfill his young dream. When I was just 6 yrs. old he would tell me stories and legends of cryptids around the world. Back then it was one of the best stories anybody could ever tell to any young man such as myself, but that was so 12 years ago! Over the years I was nearly always in front of the camera or studying. And my uncle rarely ever shows up in my graduations or events considered being important in my life…. And he'll never will.
On the day of my high school graduation, when he promised to show up, he wasn't there. Which wasn't much of a surprise, but to find out after the graduation that he died during his mysterious explorations, I was … well depressed! Sure he was crazy, but he was always there for me in times I desperately needed, and he always had given me the father and son talks when my self-conceited dad left for vacations better known as "business trips".
So basically it was the worst news I have ever gotten, other than the time when my 3rd grade party went to shambles because of a dead rat in the cake! I just couldn't believe it; the most memorial part of my life spoiled with my uncle's death.
I ran straight to my apartment and called one of my uncle's colleges. To then find out that my Uncle Tom had taken 5 scholars to an expedition to New Jersey to find a certain cryptid. They said that my Uncle Tom would never tell them what kind of creäture my uncle was trying to find, but they think that he was trying to find the Jersey Devil. Great a typical lost cause that my stupid uncle would always try to find!
When the news reached my parents they weren't depressed at all! In fact they were far opposite from that! Dad, who i expected to put on a grim attitude, was smiling from ear to ear while doing a Scottish jig. And my mother, wasn't mourning for him, but found her doing the same thing as my dad! Judas Priest woman, he's your brother!
To also find out that ALL my relatives are laughing and joking with my uncle's death. I can't believe this! YEAH, I get it he's crazy, he's always begging for money only to find out that it was a lost cause! But this is Crazy! You're just dancing on his grave! And on the funeral, unbelievable! There was only me and me alone. No priest because my relatives wouldn't care to ask for one, and all the people I knew were either partying or just too busy. I returned to my apartment to sulk in the couch. Waiting for the cushions to let me sink in and suffocate me.
Last night wasn't peachy either; my mind couldn't produce a single dream and in my head I just heard dark thoughts of guilt circling upon my heart, weighing it down like 9 tons of lead.
12 years of ignoring him. 12 years of ignorance. He always was there for me… but I was never there for him. Why! …. Why! … why. (Sappy, yes. I know)
It has been 3 days now. I haven't eaten, or slept, or even went to the bathroom. I thought that college, partying, or life had no meaning anymore. For when I ate pizza it tasted like flypaper with rocky toppings, and bark. And when I slept the same dark thoughts suffocate whatever positive part of me is left. And when I went to take a shower I would just stand there motionless.
And just in time my happy-go-lucky cousin, Troy, walks into my life. He was a sophomore in college and was well-known as the party animal of the century. He always found favor of my partying skills and always invited me over on the weekends of Summer. But he then found out that I've just been sitting in my apartment in New York doing nothing but crying, he just came in and tried to cheer me up.
"Come on, cous'. Stop mopping' and just do sum thin'!" he yelled.
I just moaned.
He tried every trick in the book to get me off the couch, but only ended as a failure.
"Alright, alright. I give up…."he admitted. Until a thought struck his head.
"But I guess you're too sad to … party." He said with mischief on the side of sarcasm.
Now this was very foolish…
"WHAT!" I screamed in outrage. "I SO can!" I retorted.
"Then you're invited to the best party of the year, buddy" he added.