I don't own Squee or any of the characters in this fic. Jhonen Vasquez does, not me. This is my first try at a fic for the JTHM and Squee comics and I want some honest feedback on it. This is written for the Fireplace Alliance Challenge #2: Interpreting a Song into Writing. See if you can guess the song by the end of the fic.
"Mommy?" Squee said walking into his mother's bedroom.
"Hmmmmmmmph?" She said stirring from her drugged up slumber. "Go away. I don't want to talk to you now. Go bug your father."
Squee just sighed and looked down, holding his bear. That bear was the only one that he felt he could confide in. Squee lived in a world where the wicked ruled. One has to be what they want. He then looked at the clock that read 8:00 am.
"Mommy, I have to go to school now." Squee said as he left the room.
"Hmmmmmph. Okay. Try to start a school shooting or blow it up with you in it okay?" His mother said as he walked out the bedroom into his father's study.
"Dad, I'm going to school now." Squee said as he looked up at his father who was sitting at his computer once again. Squee looked over his shoulder with complete curiosity. "What are you doing Dad?"
"Nothing that concerns you, now go to school." Squee's father said picking Squee up by the scruff of his neck and throwing him out the door to the bus stop.
He landed at the corner of just in time for the bus to arrive and Squee to get on. As he did, he walked along staring at the eyes around him. They were so soulless, so alike. As Squee walked along looking for a lone seat to sit in he held his bear closer and closer to him. It wasn't until the back he found a seat. He sat down and looked around.
"Weirdo" A blonde haired girl with pigtails and a smug, pretentious look said. "He's in school and he still holds onto that bear for dear life!" She turned to the kid next to her and whispered in his ear her plan for the torment of Squee. When she finished she giggled and held her hand to her mouth.
"Oh god Emilee; that is too perfect to use on him!" The boy smiled. "Do it sis! Do it!"
"God I love you Dearick!" Emilee laughed nearly kissing him. She then got up and smiled as she sat next to Squee.
Emilee sat down and looked at Squee with faux sympathy. He had a pure innocent soul and she could feel it. Innocence was something that would not be allowed in her school; at least she wouldn't let it be. If she wasn't happy inside, then no one else would. Squee was not of her norm, of her likes. Do it Emilee, ruin this boy for life.
Squee noticed the sound of the seat next to him pushing down with the compression of another and turned around. "Hello?" He asked nervously.
"Hello Skee!" Emilee said.
"It's Squee. Everyone calls me Squee. My real name is Todd though if you cared." Squee said looking at Emilee. People don't normally sit beside me. What is this girl's deal? "Why are you sitting beside me? I thought you hated me Emilee."
"No I don't care too much Skee." She said ignoring Squee. "Oh I don't really hate you; that is just an act to fit in with the other kids. One needs to fit in to survive or they would eat you like the ravenous wolves they are." Emilee said smugly. "I want to make you the beta wolf after me. You want friends don't you? I mean you cling to that bear like your only friend."
"Friends….." Squee started to say, dreaming of what that meant.
Never having a friend in his life he knew that it was something to be treasured. A stuffed bear would only be so much of a friend. Squee wanted some sort of human companionship and it seemed that Emilee was willing to be that human companion for him. Squee smiled inside and turned to Emilee hugging her.
"Get off me!" Emilee yelled as she threw Squee from her to the front of the bus.
"Why….?" Squee asked. Fool! You should have known! Squee thought to himself as the bus driver looked down on him. Her glare pierced him. "Sorry Mam." He said picking up his bear and walking back to his seat only to find Emilee had taken it. She looked rather pleased with herself and her work. Squee then looked up and saw her sitting in the seat he was reading a magazine. He saw his bear sitting on the seat still pushed on under her book bag full of textbooks.
"Excuse me Emilee; can I have my bear back?" Squee asked.
"Oh this poor thing?" Emilee held up the bear over Squee's head. She then spat on him and threw it on the ground with contempt. "Now even your only friend will hate you and he is a little Teddy Bear! HA! No one loves you Skee. No one ever will." With this remark of contempt, the bus pulled up to school.
The door opened as the bus driver said with a grunt, "MMMPh! Get off the bus you little fuckers! I don't want to see your dredges of society on this bus ever again! MMMPh!" With this 'MMMPh!" the bus driver lit a cigar and put it in her mouth making herself seem like an imposing general. One by one the students got off the bus to her MMMPhs and grunts and coughs. Squee walked along in the line with his bear, looking at all the others who were staring at him. Half of the kids were in his class, so he had to deal with the sniggers all day. They walked from the front of the school to his class. Once inside, he walked along to his desk in the center of the back. Once seated, his teacher walked in, imposing as can be on them.
"Good morning class." She said.
"Good morning teacher." The class replied back like perfect robots. All were like perfect robots except for Squee.
"One of you did not wish me good morning." The teacher said menacingly looking at each student as if 'Good morning' left a mark on who said it. Stalking along the isles, she smelled each child knowing from sent alone which one of them would not show her the respect her meager salary deserved. Squee's heart kept racing. He knew what that teacher did when she saw a student who disagreed with her and her almighty typo textbooks. Memories of the 1429 not 1492 debate broke in his mind. "SQUEE!" She yelled.
"Yes mam." Squee said.
"You did not wish me good morning. You don't want me to have a good morning?" the teacher asked.
"No. I hope you do have a good morning. I just felt that it didn't mean anything when we all say it together." Squee whimpered. It's the 1429 fight all over again. He cowered at his desk as she looked right on top of him, her nose on his.
"Well wish me a good morning. And as you said it, make it have meaning." The teacher said.
"Good morning." Squee whispered.
"LOUDER! WITH MORE FEELING AND SINCERITY!" The teacher yelled in his face.
"GOOD MORNING MAM!" Squee yelled as he saluted her like a solider would the drill sergeant.
"That's good. Now I want to talk about your homework for tonight. I want all of you to give a presentation on your pathetic short lives. If one is to be remembered, it is best to get yourself worthy of it from a very young age. You are to give a ten minute presentation on your life and make it good. No namby-pamby wishy washy shit." The teacher said. "Open your American History for Stupid Little Second Graders textbook to the Civil War chapter. Now the Battle of Gettysburg took place from January 7th to April 7th 1863."
Here we go again, who orders these textbooks? "I'm sorry but I think it was July 1st through July 4th 1863" Squee said raising his hand. "It lasted 3 days not 3 months. Once again, this American History book has the numbers mixed up. Perhaps the person who wrote it had dyslexia."
"No. The textbook is always right. Repeat, the textbook is always right. Now Squee, can you repeat that for me?" The teacher asked with her snake like demon glare.
"The textbook is always right…" Squee repeated. He quickly erased where he had written over the errors in the book so his teacher wouldn't see it. Before he could finish, she took it from him and read it.
"You are giving false information on this book for the generations of students who have to use it. The school did not pay $77.70 per book in 1984 for you to write out information students will need to use until 2184 when the school buys new books." She yelled. "I for one can't wait to see the new books but until then I have to teach with these. Now, no lying to the little children behind you!"
"But…but…but…"Squee stammered.
"No buts! I want you to write on the board, "The Battle of Gettysburg lasted from January 7th to April 7th 1863" 10,000 times after school today!" She said turning to the chalkboard and continuing her faulty lesson.
Records prove I'm right! No one will listen to me at all! I can't take it! These fools act like I am inferior for ACTUALLY knowing the proper dates of history! These people are fools! They are going to miss me when I'm gone! They will! They will! Just with that thought Squee, whose final strand broke for the last time, remembered what his dad hid next to his whiskey and vodka and his mother's pills and unnecessary oxycontin. It was the one thing he would use in that presentation of his. When the end of the school day came, the teacher pulled Squee back to write "The Battle of Gettysburg lasted from January 7th to April 7th 1863" on the board like she ordered him to. It wasn't until about 10:59pm that night he finished.
"I'm done" he said.
"Now when did the Battle of Gettysburg last?" his teacher asked.
"The Battle of Gettysburg lasted from January 7th to April 7th 1863" Squee repeated. But you are wrong and your goddamn book is wrong. He thought thankful he still had the Freedom of Think in his life.
"Oh and one more thing…." She added menacingly.
"What?" Squee asked.
"Tomorrow you will give the first presentation." She said. "And it had better blow my sock off. And just so you know, these socks haven't been off since the first President Mann."
"Oh it will blow you away…" Squee said as he walked home in the dark, a feat he was used to. He saw his mother's dealer and waved to him. It was a shame that Simons Zab was more of a father to him than his own dad was. Once home, Squee reached up to the knob and jiggled it, finding the door locked. Good thing I have a key he thought and opened the door. As he walked by his parents' room, where they were sleeping undisturbed, apparently ecstatic that he didn't come home on the bus, he remembered his presentation and what he would need to get. He worked quietly, barely touching the whiskey, vodka, pills and oxycontin; he grabbed the shiny metal object and put it in his backpack. He then went to his room and lay on the bed, resting for the next day and his presentation.
The routine was the same as it was days before: Squee would wake up, the creepy neighbor would say Hi before commencing with making horrible sounds from his house, his father would curse his existence and his mother would pop a pill and he would go school. This is the day… he thought as he walked along to the bus, stroking his backpack. The day was the same as before with the exception of people making fun of him. They were now spooked out at what he may be planning. Squee's smirk was one of disconcert. They then arrived at school, Squee walked into the classroom ready for his presentation.
"Good morning class." The teacher said.
"Good morning," All but Squee repeated.
The teacher then sat her desk with a smirk on her face looking at the class. She was looking forward to Squee's presentation. He was her most hated student and she was going to make him feel the pain she did by his very existence. "Squee, I believe you have a presentation. You will be our first."
And my last. Squee thought as he walked forward with his backpack. "Class I was asked to give a presentation of my life and here it is." He dug in his backpack for the one thing to shock the class. He gripped the firm handle and the smooth barrel and held it close to his face. "I live every day under your wickedness. One cannot be and should not be expected to take it. I live with a father who hates my existence and a mother who is constantly getting over a hangover. She will miss these," Squee said as he held up her prized drugs, "but Simons Zab will give her more. Now I will end the torture you put me through." He placed the gun in his mouth "Any last words?" He said as he pulled the trigger and his body fell to the ground, blood on the blackboard and all over the front row.
"That wasn't ten minutes…." The teacher said as Emilee ran up to him.
"I'm sorry Squee! I should have never done any of that to you!" Emilee cried tears into Squee's blood. "Someone call 911!"
"If only you were sorry before now…" Squee said as he closed his eyes and blacked out.
"Squee!" She yelled. "I could never try to forget this!"
The song I chose is Jeremy by Pearl Jam. Did you guess right? The challenge was to select a line and write a fic around it.
King Jeremy the wicked
Ruled his world
Remember to read, well you just did, and review
Otherrealmwriter
Aka
Realm