Disclaimer: Scooby Doo and all related characters, movies, TV shows, etc. are the sole property of Hanna Barbara and Warner Brothers studios; I do not have legal rights to any of it.
Hello = person A
Hello = person B
The Last Time
You walk through the doors into the building. Into the building that you've visited so many times before. There sits Grace at the desk. She's
always at the desk. You walk over. She merely glances up and hands you the clipboard. Sighing, you write your name in the empty slot. "Ah Mr.",
you hear. Your words are sad and tired, "Please. Not today Jim." Jim nods. He understands that you are not at your best and don't really want to
talk. He opens the door for you and you enter the hallway. You don't even look at the doors as you pass. You know your way by heart. You stop
at door 713. Even though the numbers say 714, it's really 713. You take a deep breath, and turn the knob.
You sit in your chair facing the window. The sky is blue. Of course the sky is blue. Why wouldn't it be? Just like Sc. No, you mustn't think of that. You mustn't think of that no matter how hard you want to. No. You can't go into shock again. You can't. Not yet. Not until you're sure. Not until you're sure it's over. You wonder what day it is. You hear the door opening. And then you remember. It's visiting day.
There he is. Sitting in the same old chair. Looking out the same old window. Looking, but not really seeing. You walk up to him and slowly turn him around. His blank face stares at you and you can't help but cry. "Brain dead," the doctors call it. Alive, but not really there. He hasn't been there for a long long time. Who could blame him? You're always surprised he lasted as long as he did. You always knew he would be the first one to break. You remember; the three of you were terrified he would do something drastic. It happened again and again. Yet the two of you continued as normal. How many years had it been? How long before that night at the hotel? Before that night when you found him unconscious. Unconscious, in a pool
of blood. His blood. Trying to escape from the charade the two of you had sustained for so long.
You hear the person come near you. Your chair slowly turns around and you see him. How long has it been since you saw him? Weeks? Months? Years? Or perhaps it was just yesterday. You try to remember, but it hurts too much to think. You like his visits. Even if they're only for a while. He treats you like you are normal. Like things were before. Before all this happened. And you came here. You're starting to lose yourself again. You can't let that happen. You must think of something else! Anything else! You focus your eyes on his face. He is crying. You wonder why. He always cries when he comes. You want to ask him, but you always forget to. He has stopped crying. You are happy.
You stop crying, and open your eyes. He's silently waiting. He can't wait any other way. You tell him stories of the mysteries the five of you solved. You know it won't change anything, but it helps you feel better to tell him. Even if he doesn't respond. You recount mystery after mystery after mystery, the five of you solved. Even if only four of you were real. Or only three. Or if it was just the two of you. And once, when it was only you. You used to love it back then. You would drive the van anywhere and everywhere. Often there would be a ghost or monster trying to scare people away from a house, mine, or whatever it was. Then the five of you would. A sob escapes from your throat. You have to go on. For his sake at least. Would solve the mystery together.
You listen as he speaks. He tells you about the places he went, and the monsters he faced. No. It wasn't just him. It was the five of you. This happened to all of you. All of the real yous. Before the aliens, and the witch, and the zombies. Before any of that. When it was just someone in a mask. When you were the real ones. Not them. He tells you what happened before. He talks of the Black Knight, Captain Cutler, Mr. Hyde, mummy, Redbeard, witch, shaman, Snow Ghost, zombie, caveman, werewolf, phantoms, ghost, alien, wax phantom, clown, creeper, old prospector, headless man, puppeteer, gorilla, Zen Tuo, robot, dognapper, and Indian brave. You remember. He helps you to forget to remember to forget. You remember one thing in particular. At the farm there was a little chick that followed Sc. That followed him around and tried to act like a dog. You wonder what happened to the chick. You hope the Malt Shop still exists. You wonder if they still sell pizza pies. You hope so.
You finish the story. It ends the same way they always do. The villain is unmasked. Certain he would have gotten away with it if it weren't for you "meddling kids". You stand up. And for perhaps the first time in your life, you bend down and hug him. It is not a 'hello, how are you' hug or a 'so long, I'll see you soon' hug. It is a 'farewell forever, I'm going to miss you' hug. You let go and turn him toward the window again. You head toward the door and you can't help but take one last look back. One last look at your friend. Your friend, who you have known for years and
years. You manage a choked "Goodbye Sh. Goodbye." You can't bear yourself to say his name. It's just…too hard.
He is done talking now. The story is over. He stands up and bends down toward you. The warmth of his arms is so comforting. You forget how long it's been since someone hugged you. It feels nice. You want to hug him back. Even a little hug. To let him know how important it is, and that you still remember. But you can't. It is impossible. Now. He lets go and turns you back toward the window. The sky is not blue anymore. It is darker. It is gray. From far away, you hear him saying "Goodbye" and the slightest hint of your name. Not your real name, but your true name. The name that you are no longer called. His voice is barely a whisper, but you hear his "Goodbye" once more. And then, the door closes.
You shut the door and head back down the hallway. Back to Jim, waiting to open the door, and Grace, sitting at her desk. Jim opens the door and you nod a "Thank you". Your eyes are blurring up with tears as you sign your name in the exit slot. You don't even hear Jim when he says "Goodnight Mr. Jones." as you walk to the door. All you can hear is the soft sound of your tears as they hit the ground. And the dull thud of the door as you leave the building and close the door for the final time.