WEIRDO BLABBS: I've started re-reading Monster Allergy. I stopped at the 13th book when I was around 13 or 14 and so I didn't really know what happened after they defeated the Mask of Fire. When I did get to finish the 29th book, though, I was so heart broken.

This is dedicated to the 29th book; you deserve a sequel.

FULL SUMMARY: You cannot get over losing something you have lived with all your life even if you lost it for somebody precious, more precious than yourself. So what do you do? You run away, of course. You hide… and pretend that the first few years of your childhood never existed. But the ghosts of your past will always haunt you until you learn to resolve it.

Zick didn't say it but he was devastated after losing his powers. So he left everything behind: monsters, his family, Elena. Only to find that ten years of running away was not long enough to stop the ghosts of his past from haunting him. An unexpected turn of events, he finds himself back in Old Mill. Issues will be resolved. Questions will be answered. Time will tick again.

WARNING: Friendship is the general theme. But who knows? After all, this story is set with twenty-two-year-old Elena and Zick. *laughs*

CHAPTER ONE: THE PAST TEN YEARS

Ezekiel Zick woke up from the dream again that morning. It's not a dream... It's the dream; it's been the dream he's been having for ten years now. And as he struggled to get up, the young man, now twenty two, stifled a yawn, flashes of the dream recurring in his conscious.

The dream had always been about seeing monsters. Not the evil kind of monster adults used to scare children into sleeping early at night, but good monsters. Monsters who were his friends.

There was Bombo, a red, really huge fellow with black spots all over his body. He had one yellow eye and one white one. But what was special about Bombo is that he ate... a lot. Zick feels as if Bombo would have liked cappuccino, one Zick plans to have later on before he goes to the university. There were also Bobaks, gelatinous monsters who were extremely wise. If they were only as good as musicians as they were at reading books. There were Snyakutzes, Bursties, Gingis, and ghosts in his dream. They were talking to him, they were having so much fun and he, Ezekiel Zick, was happy.

But few things are ever real; now, wide awake, Zick reminds himself that it was all just a figment of his imagination; a repressed desire to be different... to not be normal.

Zick sighed and he wiped the fog on the mirror above his sink. His peculiarly blue hair had spiked in several different directions over the night after he'd turned and twisted in his bed; probably because in the later part of his dream, he was on a boat one dark night and four very dark figures loomed over him, chasing him as he ran towards the light... towards a girl with brown hair and a button nose.

Zick screams and a flash of blue light emanates from him—and then he wakes up.

That was pretty much the dream... the same thing for the past ten years.

When he was ten, he imagined there were monsters and that he could see them; and talk to them, and tame them. But then again, it's normal for kids to have a wild imagination. It must have just been like a defense mechanism in him as a child to compensate for the late appearance of his father and the lack of friends on his side. Imaginary friends and imaginary adventures that he could no longer remember.

Or he could have just been schizophrenic.

Zick got out of the shower and dried himself off before checking his phone: a few messages from his parents, from his college classmates, and a few tens of texts from a certain Elena Potato.

He sighed. She never gives up.

Elena Potato was Zick's best friend. Was. Ever since he went to boarding school in a neighboring city when he was twelve, Zick and Elena have been, to put it in terms, drifting apart. The girl chose to stay in Old Mill to help out in Zick's mother's green house and continued her studies there. On the other hand, Zick wanted to go away and not even Zob, his father, could stop him. Well, ever since he'd escaped, they had never been able to stop him, nor see him in person for that matter. Zob has had a stable job at the museum for some time now, and he travels a lot. Elena and Greta put up a flower shop at Old Mill's town square which was also doing quite well. They were all busy that they rarely had time to visit; and when they did find time, Zick would make several hundred excuses for them to leave him be.

Zick's stomach churned as he looked at himself on his wardrobe mirror. What a horrible son he turned out to be. But could they blame him? Seeing them, all three of them, was too painful because it reminded him... It reminded him of so many delusions he has had in the past.

Zick sighed as he pulled his shirt over his long-sleeved top. He looked around his dorm room for any sign at all of movement.

It was all quiet and still. Nothing.

That was his daily dose of disappointment and, having had his fill, he headed out to the kitchen to grab a day-old sandwich and proceeded to the university on his bike.

That was more-or-less mornings at Newville for Ezekiel Zick: routinary, boring, normal... for the past ten years.

"Good morning, Ezekiel," greeted Professor Jennifer as Zick came bursting through the door. Somehow, his professor since freshman year in college insists on calling him Ezekiel rather than the usual Zick. She was a woman with shoulder-length black hair, bushy brows, almond-shaped brown eyes, thin lips, and a very fair complexion. She stood a few inches shorter than Zick as he approached her, his term paper in hand.

"Morning, Professor Jennifer," he greeted back. "I did the revisions you asked me to do and I also added a few citations in chapter two."

"Hm, yes," she replied, scanning his papers with impressed eyes. "I'll check this more thoroughly later during lunch. In the meantime, you're free to go."

"What, you mean like I'm done?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Yes... You don't have to see me until term resumes." She sat on her desk and turned her swivel chair facing him, "You don't seem too happy about the free time I'm giving you..."

"I am—! I mean... I just... I think it'd be a waste of time to just sit idly when I can finish that one earlier."

"Ezekiel," she started tut-tutting and shaking her head, "You've been here in the university for four years and not once have I seen you take a break. There is such a thing as overworking, you know?"

"But I—"

"Ezekiel Zick, don't make me say it twice. Take a breather; watch a movie; go home! For heaven's sake, take your girlfriend on a movie!"

"I'm not interested in those things..." he smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets, "Can't I just stay here and help you out with checking papers or something?"

"No... I've decided that you, my best student, will go home and rest at home until term starts in two weeks. I mean it," she emphasized.

Zick conceded, there was no winning against a woman with a persuasive tone. "Okay, fine, professor... I do think I need to spend more time at the dorm. My dishes and my laundry are piling up—"

"No!" she almost screamed. "By home, I meant home-home. Aren't you from Big Burg?"

"O-Old Mill but—that's not the point—it's too far and I—" The teacher magically produced a letter envelope from her pocket and handed it to him. "What. Is. This?"

"Some pocket money. A list of souvenirs I want when you get back from break. A plane ticket to Big Burg." Her smile was smug. "It leaves tonight at six."

"Prof—!"

She only smiled. "Anything for my best student."

"No... That's not—! How do I say this—? It's complicated!" Zick fidgeted on the spot, as if someone had just told him Christmas was being postponed. "You don't understand—I can't go home!"

"Ezekiel, I have a doctorate in Psychology and I think I know sublimation when I see it."

"Oh, please, professor, don't go Freudian on me now!" his voice strained as he kept thinking about what might happen. There was a plane ticket to Big Burg with his name on it and it just—it was madness.

"Ezekiel," Zick closed his eyes and he could swear it was his mother talking to him through her, "it's not good to turn a blind eye to whatever is bothering you forever. If you keep distracting yourself and pretending it doesn't exist, you'll never get over it; it won't go away, it won't resolve itself either."

He opened his eyes and saw her smile; he smiled back, albeit hesitantly. "I guess."

Professor Jennifer pat the seat in front of her, "Wanna talk about it?" Then, his smile faded, replaced with a stoic look.

"No, thanks," he said, and turned towards the door. "I'll leave now."

"Don't forget, the plane leaves at six—!" The call was drowned by the sudden slamming of the door to the faculty lounge.

Zick looked at the ticket in his hand. It was the first ticket he's held after the one that took him out of Old Mill; the first in ten long years. The ticket was sandwiched between several paper bills his professor said was pocket money and a small checklist. But what was he going to do with it now?

Indeed, what to do now?

The best thing about Old Mill is that it was halfway between city and country. The buildings, the infrastructures and the stores around it were modern with an air of mid-century elegance. The bustling sound of beeping cars and revving engines were lulled by the chirping of birds during the day and by crickets at night. The air was always cool and pleasant, never too dry or too humid.

Why would anyone ever want to leave the comforts of Old Mill?

Why would Zick?

Elena stopped to look at the picture frames atop the cabinets in the Barrymore home. One particularly large photo was the one just after Elena and Zick's fifth grade school play, Ghosto. It was an old picture with yellowing edges and almost fading colors but it was always cleaned by Mrs. Barrymore; so that the childish smile of the son she so misses could forever be preserved, even if she wasn't sure it still existed now.

How young were they back then—ten, eleven—when Zick started to avoid talking about the extraordinary they used to do? Monster hunting, taming, even studying the monsters were more fun than anything they'd done in between. Why would he suddenly leave them and never return calls?

All Zick did for the past decade was send them text messages saying he was 'fine' and 'doing well'. Where were the photos that proved that? And why does he never ask how they were—how they all were?

Even a person as tough as Elena had sensitivities, too. And what hurt her more was seeing Greta and Zob, Zick's grandparents, and all the monsters in their home miss him every single day.

She sighed.

"We all miss him, kiddo," came Zob's voice from behind Elena. The brunette turned and swiftly smiled at the couple. Elena imagined that Zick would probably look just like his father by now.

"For one thing, I know Timothy likes having one less monster to look after so I know he doesn't," she joked and turned her back on the photo. "I mean, ten years isn't long enough to miss a person, right?"

"Oh, Elena," Great said, detaching herself from Zob's arm on her waist and rushing to Elena, "You look at that photo every day. I know you miss him; it's not bad to admit it once in a while."

Greta smiled at her and Elena forced her own lips to part. "I know... But really, I'm too busy with Keeper apprenticeship that I really don't have much time."

"And speaking of time—" Greta cocked her head to the side like a child; ten years hasn't done much to the woman's face as it was as youthful as before, "—are you sure you won't want to stay for dinner?"

She shook her head, the curls at the tips of her hair bouncing up and down, "No, thank you, Greta. My parents are waiting for me at home with a huge casserole of baked macaroni."

"Oh, how lovely," said the woman and Elena bid them goodbye. She went and turned the corner that faced the door.

She stopped when she was sure that the footsteps were far from earshot.

Truth be told, her parents weren't waiting for her at all. They were at the twins' own fifth grade school play (a remake of Elena's Ghosto) ready for Violet's directing debut. Elena would be at home alone tonight, probably reminiscing the past in front of the Keeper's Manual. She would sleep late tonight, studying for the practical Keeper's finals the next day.

Elena sighed. Tonight will be a long night.

The door creaked open as she made her way out, and when she closed the door behind her—she stopped dead on her tracks. At the bottom of the steps was a tall and lanky silhouette. The face of the young man was covered in the shadows but his hair was illuminated by the yellow light of the moon.

The silhouette turned and was taken aback as well. He and Elena stared at each other for a little while until Elena finally spoke to him.

"What the...?"

Elena scrambled and groped around for the light bulb switch. She turned it on before her panic attack could go full swing.

A bright white light flooded the first few steps of the stairs and the figure stepped forward.

"Hi... Elena." There was hesitation in his voice. And was that guilt she heard?

Elena raced down the stairs, feeling her brain pulse in her skull.

She raised her arm above her head; and before he could say anything, she punched him.

WEIRDO BLABBS [again]: Elena doesn't seem like the kind of girl who will jump onto a long lost friend so I had her punch Zick instead… which, for me, seems like a totally more logical reaction to a friend who doesn't contact you for ten years!

What do you guys think? R & R and let me know!