By the time Benson had managed to ease his sore eyes open, Mordecai was already downstairs shoddily slurping down his third bowl of cereal. It wasn't necessarily his throbbing foot or his splitting headache that caused him to wake up; it was the unbelievably loud music blaring from Mordecai's huge headphones, which Benson could hear all the way from the kitchen. In fact, this was how he confirmed that it was Mordecai in the kitchen, considering the fact that whatever spare time he had from his obnoxious little raccoon friend and his tiresome work hours, he was most likely chilling on his bed listening to his music. Benson finally commanded himself to sit up, grab his annoying crutches, and hop his way into the kitchen. Sure enough, Mordecai was completely zoned, staring into his empty cereal bowl in the midst of coexisting within his booming music world. The park manager skipped over beside him, still cursing under his breath how the crutches were starting to tick him off.
"Mordecai," he said. The blue jay was unresponsive and continued to tap his foot against the tile floor and nod his head with the beat of the pop music. "Mordecai!" Benson said again, a little louder, in an effort to get his employees' attention. Still no response. After fiercely digging his teeth into his bottom lip out of annoyance, Benson sighed and grabbed the headphones, giving them a gentle tug and causing them to slide off Mordecai's head and rest on his shoulder. Mordecai froze before shaking his head slightly in confusion and slowly turning around.
"Oh. Hey dude. Feel a little better today?" Mordecai asked dispassionately as he turned his attention back to his uninteresting cereal bowl. Benson sat next to him and shrugged. "With the cut and all? A little bit. In general? No, not really." Mordecai giggled childishly at his humor, causing the both of them to laugh at this funny but true statement. Mordecai reached for his CD player and shut it off.
"Why could I hear your music from all the way from the living room?" Benson asked with a disapproving tone. Mordecai slipped the headphones off of his shoulders and set them on top of the player.
"They aren't that loud."
"They are, trust me."
"Well, I was listening to a really good band."
"It better be an awesome band then."
Mordecai shrugged again and rested his head on his wings. "Nothing much, it's just a sad song that's been growing on me lately. Weird, though, the song's about a girl..."
"A girl, huh?" Benson added with a mischievous grin, glancing at Mordecai with raised eyebrows. Mordecai laughed and playfully nudged him with his elbow. "No dude, not like that, man. It's really a sad song. Maybe I'll show you the lyrics later. Actually, I think I can remember the first part, um… yeah, I don't think I can remember; I suck at remembering the words, and singing in general for that matter."
But Benson wasn't necessarily paying attention to his subtle self-scolding. He was too ensnared in his own memories that those few song lyrics withdrew, therefore he wasn't really listening to Mordecai as he was gesticulating and explaining how horrible he was at singing.
"And then everyone would, like, spontaneously combust, or something." Mordecai concluded his statement about how his singing would result in the apocalypse, flinging his hands up in the air and allowing them to fall down to his sides. "Huh," Benson said under his breath, staring at a small puddle of milk on the table in a trance. "What dude?" Mordecai asked. Benson blinked a few times before looking back at Mordecai. "Sounds depressing."
"Dude, if you think that's depressing, try listening to Brain Explosion. THAT'S depressing." Mordecai popped open the CD player and took the disc out, handing it to his boss. "This is just a shabby collection of some of my favorites. I suggest you listen to them and pick out a few of your own. Maybe you'll find one you like." Benson looked at the disc, and not seeing a specific reason why he should decline it, he took it from his employee. "Thanks."
"No prob. Whenever you want to hear somethin' new, just come to me, 'cuz I'm ninja when it comes to music. Hey, didn't that old Maellard guy say we have to go and get clothes today?" Being abruptly reminded of this incident immediately dragged Benson back down into his normal depression without any hesitations; thus, his sliver of satisfaction withered into dust, leaving nothing but a few remnants of the conversation they had about some sad song. Benson flung his head up into the air and moaned with aggravation in every ounce of his bellow. Mordecai chuckled. "Dude, you sound like Rigby."
"Zip it."
Out of nowhere, Rigby crawled up onto the kitchen table and plopped down right in the center of it. "What do I sound like?" He asked Mordecai with a curious expression. Benson sighed. "Get off of the dining table Rigby."
"Aw, what? But I look way short sitting in those tiny little chairs! And this table is comfy!"
Benson face-palmed before glaring at Rigby. "You're short to begin with, these chairs are bigger than YOU, and hard wood is not comfy; quit squatting on the table or your fired."
Rigby moaned just as Benson did not a minute earlier, causing Mordecai to laugh uncontrollably and get a death stare from his boss. "See? There it is again! I am so ninja," he boasted between chuckles. Rigby looked downright confused, and Benson shook his head at the bird's horrible humor, before allowing a smirk to protrude from his lips and accidentally give into the little game. "God, I hope not," Benson added from behind a sly sneer towards Rigby. "Hey!" Rigby retorted with a childlike pout face, crossing his arms and leaping off of the table onto the floor next to his friend. "So what are we supposed to do today? Dishes?" Rigby spat as he gave his employer a resentful face, sticking his tongue out as far as it would go. "Keep on making faces at me and you'll be on dish duty for the next month." Benson said plainly. He knew how much Rigby despised the job of doing the dishes every week. Immediately after hearing this, Rigby flipped around and resided to making goofy faces at the wall; after all, he didn't specify what not to make faces at. Mordecai thumped the back of Rigby's head with his spoon. "Oww!" Rigby whimpered as he rubbed the spot where Mordecai barely tapped him.
"Dude, today we go clothes shopping, remember?" Again, Rigby wailed his immature, high-pitched moan. "I haaaaaate clooooooothes." He whined. As they bickered back and forth about the matter, Benson looked at Rigby, then to Mordecai, and back at Rigby; all the while he was imagining them walking out of the mall wearing actual clothing. It certainly made Benson do a double-take, after noticing that Rigby would probably only fit into child clothes. Then he looked down at himself, noting how his red torso was almost the same size as Rigby's, and Benson frowned in dismay. Great, he thought to himself, unless I never want to hear the end of having to wear kid clothes, I have to shrink all of mine to make them fit. Just what I need. Benson shook his head and started towards the door. "C'mon guys, let's get this over with." Benson left the door open for them as he dragged himself toward the cart with loathing for his lollipop boss.
"Just a sec, dude!" Mordecai called through him through the open door, following Rigby into the living room. He and Rigby had agreed to returning a "defective" video game in order to get enough money to buy the next one. Of course, they would do this after scratching the disc's backside to make it no longer playable. "Why can't we just wait till we get our paycheck and then buy the third one dude?" Mordecai asked as Rigby walked towards the game console. "Because they're going to run out, man! Besides, the second one isn't even that good, and it was defective," he said slyly, opening the console and removing the disc. He was just about to vandalize it when he noticed something peculiar on the television screen that made him freeze in his tracks. Mordecai watched him as he stood paralyzed in fear. "Okay, dude. You got the disc. Let's go before Benson get's pissed at us!" Mordecai urged his friend. Rigby didn't budge. "Dude! Let's get going! Don't you want to-" he stopped speaking when he saw what Rigby was staring at.
A big crater inside the screen. No, not necessarily a crater, more like a hole, a dark colored spiral that looked like it went on forever. Rigby flipped around to face Mordecai. "Dude…What do we do!"
Mordecai shook his head and stepped towards it. "How did this even get here? Were you messing with that universal remote, Rigby?" he scolded the raccoon that was still inspecting the thing on the TV.
"What? No man, Skips got rid of that thing!"
"Did you have anything to do with this?"
"Well…Maybe…but you were there too!"
Mordecai flashed Rigby a questioning look, and then gasped. "Dude…no way…"
"Yes way!"
They looked back at the television, then looked back at each other and shouted in unison. "That control panel in the attic!"
Rigby peered back up at the swirling manifestation on the screen as Mordecai paced around the living room briskly. "Ugh! We're screwed dude! I told you we should've just left the thing alone! There was even a note! You remember what happened last time we ignored a note?"
"…We didn't have to set up the chairs?" Rigby responded carelessly.
"Well, yeah, but we let out that Destroyer of Worlds guy! What did we do now?"
"I don't know about you, but it looks like it goes somewhere." Rigby told himself, ignoring the blue jay as he reprimanded their most recent act of stupidity.
"Mordecai! Rigby! Are you coming or what!" Benson's irritated voice got louder as he neared the door. Rigby brought his hands up to his face. "We're dead man! We're dead, we're dead, we're dead! How can we hide this from him?" Rigby spat out anxiously. Mordecai nimbly yanked the blanket off of the couch and placed it on top of the TV, straightening it out to ensure that it covered up the portal on the screen. Mordecai took a step back and sighed with relief. "Dude…" Rigby said in awe as he stared at the blanket like it was a masterpiece. "That was ninja."
"I know dude; I am ninja. We'll fix it when we get back from shopping. C'mon, let's go before Benson drops his gumballs." The two clueless adolescent mammals waltzed out the front door laughing at Mordecai's comment about Benson's gumballs. Neither of them realized that the blanket was sucked through the television screen and sent spiraling through the tunnel.
X
By the time Kairo managed to ease her sore eyes open, her mother had already left for work. The sun hadn't even risen over the mountains yet, keeping the desert landscape as perceived through the attic window a pale, chalky, lifeless wasteland. It was strange, the effect the sun had on the desert. Without the sun, the vast dirt looked a repulsive grey, and the sky looked like a distorted dark blue that was layered with purple and black drapes. But with the sunlight kissing it, it was transformed into something entirely different. Perhaps it was this concept that caused Kairo to look so sickly that morning, with bags under her eyes and tearstains smeared all over her pale cheeks. She didn't need the sunlight. She despised the sunlight, how it transfixed on her to make her known to the world. No, she would much rather lurk in the shadows of the attic, where she knew that Amelia nor anybody else could see her. If they couldn't find her, they couldn't hurt her. If only Amelia didn't find her that morning.
It happened when Kairo sat up and stretched towards the attic ceiling, then noticed that there was a sliver of light coming through the attic door. She didn't even have to see that the barricaded antique furniture had been pushed out of the way to know that Amelia had gotten into her room. Kairo stared at the sliver of light in awe, asking herself how in the world Amelia could have pushed through the door by herself, when a shadow concealed the light and footsteps were heard behind her. Kairo rose onto her feet and flipped around, coming face to face with a very angry Amelia. Amelia clutched onto the steel bat so hard her knuckles were white, and before Kairo could try to move out of the way to avoid her sister's wrath, Amelia swung it at her with a grunt. The bat slammed into the side of her head with a deafening crack that echoed all the way down the staircase, and Kairo slumped to the ground.
Kairo could hear her sister's voice shouting at her, even though it sounded much like whispering. "I told you not to tell anybody! Now mama is suspicious!" Kairo blinked a few times before bringing her hand up to the side of her head. She felt liquid slowly running down her temple and streaming down her cheek. She was in for it now.
Before Kairo could even get up on her hands and knees, Amelia swung the bat again, hitting her rib cage's side and making Kairo shout in pain. Kairo nimbly rolled over, barely escaping a whack to the back of her head, and looked up with teary eyes. I have to get out of here, she thought to herself just as Amelia brought up her foot and kicked her in the stomach. "I told you to keep it a secret! I told you that if you spoke a word, I'd shut you up! I MEANT IT!" Amelia swung the bat once more, growling in anger as the hit missed Kairo's face and her younger foster sister quickly crawled over a box. Kairo lifted up her throbbing head and desperately looked around for an escape, even a hiding place to get away from Amelia. The window? She asked as she glanced at the opposite side of the room. No, the fall would kill her. The stairs? She turned her head to the entrance of the attic. Even if she did make it, Amelia would probably push her down, and there were knives in the kitchen that Amelia would probably take advantage of. Kairo took one last desperate glance all around the room before feeling a sharp pain in her leg and rolling onto her back.
It was no use. There was no escape. She was a prisoner, trapped in this cage with a madwoman bunkmate that sought enjoyment as she abused her. Kairo closed her eyes and burrowed her head into her arms, curling into a ball as Amelia kicked her repetitively in her arm, bruising it and occasionally ripping open her skin. No one would really care if I were to die today anyway, she thought to herself, before remembering the tunnel on the old television screen. As the new hope of refuge once again took over her ambition, Kairo looked up and quickly inspected the furniture. She spotted the television tumbled over onto its backside on the furthest side of the room, but the path was scattered with surplus boxes and chairs and other miscellaneous junk. Kairo glanced back at her bloodthirsty elder just in time to block her face with her frail arms as Amelia brought down the bat with unbelievable force. Kairo cried out when she heard the crack of it collide with her bone, and Amelia laughed with pleasure. "You're worthless, you know that?" She said, leaning over and pulling Kairo up to her feet by the collar of her shirt. Kairo struggled to remain on her feet as Amelia dragged her roughly towards the door, where Kairo was trying to avoid in the first place. Oh no, she thought to herself as she struggled weakly against Amelia. I'm screwed. I'm dead, and I'm screwed. She tried to yank free from her grasp, even try to wriggle out of her own shirt, but it was no use. When Amelia was about a foot away from the stairs, she forcefully tugged at Kairo's shirt in order to get her to stand, which was an exceedingly difficult task, considering the fact that she couldn't breathe.
The intoxicated woman laughed ecstatically before flipping her bloody, red-faced sister around and kissing her on the forehead. "I love you, sissy!" she snarled venemously. She flipped her back around and thrust the fourteen-year-old girl's head into the side of the wall before pushing her down the stairs. Amelia chuckled to herself as Kairo was sent tumbling down the hardwood steps.
Kairo couldn't see anything except the color red. She couldn't hear anything except for the sound of her limbs hitting the wood as she fell and the sound of her cruel sister laughing. She couldn't feel anything in her body, for every single limb hurt. She was dizzy, and couldn't keep her eyes open long enough to focus because she would roll back over onto another step again. Down, down, down…the fall seemed endless, every stair cut into her skin or banged up against her body. Finally, the world stood still.
Stillness. Kairo appreciated this state of remaining motionless much more than she did a few days ago, a few weeks ago. She didn't know what happened, for a split second she didn't know who she was. It wasn't until Amelia kicked her on her side before walking out the door to school when everything came flooding back to her. She was Kairo, an orphan child who witnessed her parents burn to death, was sent back and forth between the orphanage and foster homes, and was currently in the midst of dealing with an abusive, alcoholic madwoman who wanted Kairo out of existence. Perhaps after this, she would be. She couldn't quite feel her body until she felt a small sense of tingling spread from her fingertips all the way down her arm, until her entire body felt fizzy. Then the pain set in, and Kairo cried into the kitchen floor until she threw up.
After another hour or so of weeping and vomiting, Kairo took a few deep breaths to stop hyperventilating and lifted her head. The sun had already risen, coming through the stained glass kitchen windows and flashing onto the broken girl sprawled out on the floor. But in this certain setting, the sunlight had no effect. There was nothing beautiful to see beyond the kitchen window, except for the ornate wallpaper. There was no way the sunlight could enchant this picture to make it more appealing to the eye. Kairo tried to sit up on shaky arms, but fell back down after feeling the unbearable pain that spread throughout her body. She tried again, this time successfully channeling the pain into ambition, and got onto her arms and knees. She was going to get out of here. There was no way she was going to call the police, not so Amelia would frame her for trying to attack her, or for some other ridiculous reason that the rest of the world would believe. There was no way that she could try running away, they'll find her and bring her back again. Kairo grabbed the rail of the staircase with a bruised hand and managed to pull herself up from the ground, which was now smothered in blood, tears, and puke nonetheless. She heaved herself up the stairs and stumbled through the door before collapsing onto her stomach and resting for a moment or two. Kairo picked herself back up and neared the television screen, but a deafening screech made her cover her ears and fall back onto the floor. Her sight went blurry, her ambition died, and her body went numb.
The sun looked through the attic window curiously for the next twenty four hours, anxiously trying to get a peek at the girl that it had seen moments ago weeping on the floor of the kitchen. After realizing that she was in the shadows, the sun gave up and burrowed back behind the mountains, leaving the dying girl all alone in the darkness, and questioning whether or not the sun will rise to see her alive the next day.