Mort was curled up into a tiny depressed ball in a small corner of the habitat. The feet…they were so close!
Just that Julian managed to convince the penguins to cast a border around them. Well, no not really, it´s just that he interrupted them with the intention to ask, but got accidently shocked, now his body send electric shocks everytime someone touched them. Kowalski felt bad for him and changed it so that he won´t feel anything, just the person touching.
Mort raised his head to look at them. They were calling him, he could hear it! Mort sighed heavily, lieing back down, a few lonely tears falling out of his eyes.
When he was younger, it was all a game for him, chasing the feet, getting kicked through the air, coming back to try again, no matter what pain he felt.
He wished he could go back in time. Mort never really knew what being a fetish meant, until he grew older. It wasn´t an urge to come near the feet, it was a need. Just like a drug addict needed drugs, he needed the feet! He tried to satisfy himself with other feet, but somehow, they didn´t seem to do the job correctly. Every ´feet-less night´ was another 12 hours of pure torture, mentally and physically. Yes, physically. His body ached; he felt sick and almost threw up.
Did he really have it that bad? Or was it for all fetishes so? Why couldn´t there be any other fetishes in the zoo? At least they could suffer together! Or talk about it. Mort could maybe move into the other fetish´s habitat and have someone who understands him, not just look at him with pity or disgust.
He knew people pitied him. Marlene for example, often picked him up when he landed outside or inside her habitat. He didn´t need pity!
Just…them… Maybe he should run. On the street, then maybe one of these cars will run over him, and everything will be done. His body wouldn´t feel sick again, nor would Julian need to bother with him. He was a bother, nothing else. He had nothing. No talents, nothing that he could use to guide everyone away from the fact he was a ´sick fetish´ and get their amazement! Their love or just friendship. Maurice always told him that you couldn´t buy love or friendship. Or force it. Well, rather have fake friends than none at all, right? Right. He wasn´t cute anymore too! Or innocent! (not the body innocent, but the character, like Private)
Mort stood up and trotted over to the bouncy. He stared at Julian´s feet, before going over to the other lemur sleeping on the bouncy and hugging him. Maurice slightly stirred in his sleep, but that´s all. The mouse lemur looked over to the feet once again. After a moment of just standing there and staring, he rushed over, despite the pain of the electricity, hugged them tightly. "I´ll miss you!" He whispered, feeling a lump rise up in his throat again. No, I can´t cry. I have to be strong! He thought, then let go, his fur sizzling and smoking.
Mort climbed over the wall, and walked up to the zoo gates. The soft moonlight seemed friendly, guiding him toward the street, in other words, his doom.
The street was…empty. Mort looked around confused. Where were the bone crushing wheels and the body flattening trucks? The traffic light wasn´t on, in other words, there won´t be someone any time soon riding a big crushing truck over a small helpless lemur. No one would go for a ride at two o´clock in the morning. "Stupid time!" The lemur kicked a stone away.
Then he had an idea. What if he goes to sleep in the middle of the road? Sooner or later the humans have to wake up and get around in their car. Then someone would drive over him and he´d be dead. Dead. Die. Kill. Scary thoughts though. Mort shrugged it off. He´ll be asleep anyway. He found a nice spot and lied down, curling his tail around him. "I´m sorry, Maurice." He whispered to the one person who loved him like his own son, since Maurice never got any himself. Doing this will have pros and cons, but he really couldn´t spend another night in hell.
Mort opened his eyes. His body hurt. But everything was white and bright! Maybe he was in heaven…if fetishes are even allowed in heaven. The tiny mouse lemur struggled to sit up, despite the pain and the weird white things hugging his chest. His sight was still blurry though, but he was able to make out an angel coming toward him. Strange is, she had something green on and looked a lot like Alice…DANG IT! No! No, this can´t be true! The woman patted his head, then unwrapped the somethings from his chest. They were bloody bandages. So he survived the car accident? Dang it again!
Just then, another figure came in. White. The doctor. "Hey little guy." Mort looked up into his kind eyes. "How are you feeling?" "I seriously have no idea how he could´ve gotten out of his habitat! Even the zoo gates were locked!" Alice said, obviously nervous and guilty. "Don´t worry about it." The doctor helped her in switching the bandages. The two then fed Mort some chunks of mango and pineapple.
After breakfast, the mouse lemur got put…back into his habitat. It was still pretty dark, the doctor´s office had been lighted. Julian was nowhere in sight. But just as the ground touched his feet and the lemur hobbled a couple of steps, a pair of strong arms lifted him off the ground and to someone´s chest.
"Mort…" Maurice hugged him gently. "Mort, why did you do that?" The small fetish didn´t answer, but hugged him back. Maurice carried him over to the empty bouncy, and just sat there, holding the mouse lemur in his lap. Mort wrapped his tiny arms tight around the only person who loved him on this earth. In this universe. Maurice´s body heat warmed the other in his lap. Mort suddenly took in a deep shuddering breath, then broke into tears. In between sobs and tears, the whole thing came out. After a small, serious talk, the two sat together on the inflatable castle and silently watched the sunrise. Maybe Maurice is the one who could help me. Mort thought, leaning against the warm body. And maybe, just maybe things could change. Not just for him, but all the other fetishes, who had maybe gone through the same thing he had right now. Maybe…
People don´t really know what fetishes are. They think they´re all like Mort, just feeling a sick urge to be around the body part or object they´re addicted too, or some fetishes are addicted to touching. Some to positions of the body. And it´s not like they just go through the day, touching or kissing people´s feet or harassing someone or whatever! They are normal people. Just a bit different.
Some people say they are fetishes when feeling addicted to something, a girl who loves shoes might say she has a shoe fetish, but being a fetish is a bit different. Like Mort, some do feel sick when not being around their fetish thing or touch. It does sound a bit weird, but doesn´t mean that the fetish are sick and twisted perverts or anything!
Also, it´s not a sickness. Some may develop it later, but some are born with it. It´s definitely not a sickness! You can cure sickness with pills, medical attention, even with treatments like special baths or places. Fetishism? Uhm, nope, not heard anything about that. Of course you can go the a counselor, he´ll maybe just sympathy with you, either that or tell you to go talk to a psychiatrist. If it just takes talking, how many fetishes would still be left? Not many, if none at all.
And about that whole stupid stuff about ´it´s all just in your head´:
Some kids have it young and it can´t be a thing that´s all in their mind if they don´t even know what a fetish is! So, yeah. Things like mobbing or rejection can drive someone insane and cause them to commit suicide, which is also not the answer, since they won´t be just hurting themselves but all the other people around them. (and seriously, if suicide was the answer, then humans would be endangered, since they would kill themselves whenever they had a problem)
You might not even know that your favorite teacher or best friend was a fetish! And yes, they can be the best thing that ever happened to you, so forget everything people say about fetishes, becuz mostly they are just stupid empty rumors. Some of them might be true, the most of them are just as true as that you will fall of the surface of the earth when you sail around Africa.
Btw, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Thomas Hardy also belong to the group of "sick, twisted perverts". And they aren´t some people you fish out of the slums! So, yeah, I hope that sooner or later, there will be something for fetishes…but of course, everyone´s worried about curing cancer first. But put that on your to-do list please!