Of The Missing DS

Here's a slightly older Agnetha talking about a slightly younger Agnetha...
When a friend's game console goes missing, it's up to a ten-year-old Agnetha to solve the mystery.

I was ten at the time. It was that time of the noughties when gadgets were beginning to rule over humanity. Back then, the handheld game was the equivalent in size to a nineties phone compared with a modern android one. They were large, they were bulky, but they were all the range and built to last.

Think about it. I was a child who desired popularity, which, at that time came from the most materialistic things (having not known God at that point), and I was a girl, one who liked to be in a group. In that way, the Nintendo DS was a perfect gift for me, especially when it came complete with Nintendogs, an interactive game to share with other DS users.

Most girls, at the time, had chosen pink game-consoles, but I outright refused, insisting on my constant hatred of all things pink, and had chosen to be the only person in my class with a metallic blue DS instead.

The incident in question occurred between the lunchtime of Wednesday 15th March and Friday 17th of same. It was a quiet day in the classroom of 6P- if by quiet, you understand to be no louder than the normal schoolroom chatter- when one of my good friends (whom I drifted apart from once we had left our primary school) rushed into the classroom, her black hair spilling down her face and over one eye, as if she were a tainted waterfall.

Her frantic face was noticed by few, so, as you can guess, the noise-level remained the same, at high. That was until...

"Katherine, what’s up?"

"Are you okay, Katherine? You look worried."

"Katherine! What happened?"

As you can see, my friend Katherine was one of those popular girls. Nevertheless, I was glad to call her my current companion.

"Katherine..." I began, but she interrupted with a wail.

“My DS is gone!”

“What?” It was a gasp shared by many.

“I left it on the table over there, tucked into my bag, before lunch, and now it’s gone!” cried Katherine.

It was at that moment that our teacher, Mrs. Pennyfeather, wandered in. She was not the sort of person to condone disorder and disappointment, but she was neither the type to be sensitive to our problems. She was a lovely teacher, but rather mediocre with care.

“Hello, girls and boys. Gather round, for a new day… Children? What’s going on here? Katherine…is anything the matter?”

“My DS,” repeated Katherine, sobbing, “it was on that table, in my bag, before lunch, but now it’s gone!”

Mrs. Pennyfeather clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, whilst she surveyed the room, as though her eyes could have been lasers and would find out the object.

“Well, I’m afraid, that’s what happens when you just leave things lying around. Ask at the office after school, Katherine, but I’m afraid it might have been stolen. Game consoles are valuable things, you know.”

As Katherine, still sobbing quietly, wandered back to her seat, accompanied by a group of also-distraught girl-friends, my thoughts were anchoring me to the spot.

Stolen, eh…?

“Agnetha, please sit down!” Mrs Pennyfeather called.

I did so, but my feet were heavy, grounded with those thoughts.

Stolen…

***

The End

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