This prose I made up is about Pinkster from when he was young and how he felt at the time before, during and after Duck came and left. Hope you enjoy it.
Sitting on my bed again. This time, alone. The only person who I liked has been taken away to a better place. Well, he deserved it. Both of us were hard done by most people. No-one took any interest in us. The "weird kids". It wasn't that we liked each other in the first place. It was part of survival. They attack you if you're alone like the wildebeast in Africa we learnt in pre-school. The lions would catch the wildebeasts if they split up. So, we had to get along. Though I guess it was inevitable that we were friends once we spent so much time together in each other's company. To tell you the truth, I hated everyone after my parents disappeared. I thought I could take the world on by myself. The grown ups always gave their fake smiles that "everything was going to be okay", "everything will be alright", "you'll see". But if everything was okay, if everything was alright, I always ask myself why I'm here.
Before he came, I was alone. I wanted to be alone. I don't care whether people would s****** at me in my direction. It was me against the world you know around that time.
It was raining the night brefore when he came. I was just sitting half way on the stone steps outside while the other kids jumped around in the puddles that the rain created. I didn't see the point of getting yourself wet for no particular reason. I just sat and watched odourlessly. I heard a car pull up near the orphanage. I watched the whole "grown up trying to drag a reluctant kid out of the car routine" like a TV show. If you haven't seen this before I'll give you a summary: Grown up gets out of car. Kid stays in car. Grown up opens door. Kid moves away from Grown up. Grown up tries tempting kid out. Doesn't work. Grown up tries to reassure kid. Doesn't work either. Grown up drags kicking and screaming kid out of the car and drags them into the orphanage. Just like the rest of them. No different. Just listening to the rubbish she was feeding him. "I know it's big and scary at first. But everyone's really friendly". Rubbish. It seemed to have the oppisite effect from reassurance.
I was still the emotionless kid I was still, until a week later, he started getting picked on by some older kids. He was an anthro after all. A freak just like me. They did the same thing to me as they were doing him. Fortunately for me, there was an ant hill that they didn't like either and went to torment that for a while before he came. Watching it like a television set, I noticed that he didn't shrink under the torment of the name-calling like the others did. He was fighting against 3 or 4 Goliaths. That was when I started to feel a force of freedom. Something possessed me to march up to them and push the biggest kid away from him. They were about to start on me too when the grown ups saw them and told them that they were stuck on washing up duty for a week starting now. That was when I felt things that I never felt before. I started to laugh. Laugh? That was unusual for me. The kid turned to me and asked what was so funny. I just couldn't help but continue to indulge myself into this new sensation that I never experienced before. I started to feel more of these sensations when I was with him. No matter what we did, good or bad, we shared that sensation together. I stopped having the hatred that plagued me for years because of him. I had the brains and ideas and he helped me make them come to life. I was actually a star of a life I never had before, with him as my side-kick. Okay, he was more of a hero than I was but he was younger than me so I let him off that. We did things outside instead of sitting inside watching TV. Like most of our inferiors did. We battled aliens on the jungle gym, played with the ants on the ant hill and discovered a new species of lizard under a rock. We loved life.
But one day, the annual open day, where potential families came to look at us as though we're monkeys in cages. The adults told us to behave ourselves. The usual rules. We broke most of them anyway. It was also when a pair of parents found my partner a potential puzzle piece. The one who completes the family. A few weeks later, I was searching for him. When I entered our room, he was packing his suit case. He explained to me that a family wanted to take him home, for good. In confusion, I asked whether he would see me again. He said he would. But after he left the show, another feeling came, I had some confusion comprehending it. Tears? That cold feeling. Was that loss?
I started to curse all the names that I shouldn't say under the sun. I swore out loud with hot tears running down my cheeks. This is it. This was it. I am going to get my partner in crime back. I shall make him taste the feeling inside me that would kill him in agony. I'm immune to it so there was no way I could die like that. I pack my things before I take my leave. I am going to find him and teach him this the feeling of loss. It's just me against the world now. You just watch me.
