Chapter Twenty-Five
Between Breaths (an XX perspective)
And that's how I died. The life choked right out of me, with my neck breaking it a million pieces, or at least it felt like it did. It was a strange feeling being dead. Felt pretty good actually. Like a big release. The biggest orgasm you'll ever have in your life. You're free! No more worries about how I'm gonna pay the bills, or how I'm going to afford this, or finding a job, or what am I gonna do about my love life. It was all quiet and peaceful. No images. No sounds. No feelings. Only darkness.
Sure it was scary at first being there all by my self with nothing but the dark to keep me company, but I'm used to it. Every man I've ever cared about in my life had always left me alone, or betrayed me, or some bullshit like that, so I didn't really care anymore. This silence was all I needed now, and that was fine with me.
I could already feel bits and pieces of myself slip away. Memories were disappearing at an alarming rate. I saw moments of the past flash by me like a bolt of lightning and were gone in a moment, never to be thought of again. I loved this empty headed feeling. I didn't have to worry about anything anymore.
No more working at that park and its weird inhabitants.
No more dealing with strange monsters and unexplainable phenomena.
No more crazy blue jays and hyperactive raccoons and this screwed up love triangle we shared.
This was good. Just take it all away. I don't want it anymore. I just want to be left by myself. Just me and my thou-
…
…
…
…
We
Aren't
Finished
Here
Yet…
Margaret screamed as the sudden feeling of hands around her neck returned to her. She clutched at the area with her wings hoping to force the attacker off her. But when she reached up, nothing was there. That didn't make any sense. Just a moment ago, she was being killed by some bizarre representation of Mordecai's feelings. That, in its own right, was completely nonsensical. She took a deep breath and looked around herself worriedly.
Wait, this didn't make any sense either. She was… in the coffee house? A quick glance around the room confirmed everything. The tables and the chairs were all there and in their usual place. The scent of coffee lingered in the air which attracted memories of the past to flash by her mind suddenly. No one was there though. Not a single person.
The robin looked down at her self suddenly, checking her attire. She was still wearing the same jeans and jacket she had on when she went to go check on Mordecai and Rigby. The girl groaned, wishing, for the first time in her life, that she had been wearing her old work uniform. She had hoped that everything that had happened the past few months had been nothing more than a dream. This didn't make things any better. Why was she at the coffee house?
"What!" screamed an angry patron as he was being pushed out the door, "you gotta be kidding me! It's only eight o'clock!"
Margaret looked up quickly toward the stairs leading out of the coffee shop. There at the top of the steps was herself, still donned in her coffee house attire, pushing a patron out the door.
"I'm sorry sir," this Margaret said trying hard to push a rather large and overweight man out the door, "but we have to close early tonight to clean up."
"Well that's no excuse! Isn't it your job to serve patrons like me! Isn't the customer always right?"
"Sir, I apologize again," she added, "but it's just me here tonight, and I need to get this place cleaned up before opening again tomorrow."
"But-"
The coffee house Margaret then put all of her footing into pushing the man out of the door, pulling it shut, and locking it just as quickly. The man outside began mouthing some very unflattering things to her, but with the past few days that she and her co-workers have had, she couldn't give a crap. She looked over the guard railing of the stairs next to the entrance to survey the damage.
A quick flash of lightning, and everything changed suddenly. It looked as though the current Margaret was standing in the middle of a freeze frame. The lights in the coffee house had been blown out, the tables and chairs had been picked up from off the ground and were floating silently in air, unmoving, and to her side was herself again, caught in a frozen moment or fear… a demonic electric monster loomed above her, torturing her.
"Look familiar?" asked a voice behind her.
The red robin spun around as fast as she could to see who was talking to her. In front of her was… herself again? Now there were three Margaret's in the room: the present day Margaret scared out of her wits, the past and frozen Margaret who's being tormented by Iacedrom, and this third one standing in front of her looking quite calm and collected. In fact, she looked much different from herself on closer inspection.
She stood up tall and pronounced, not showing the least bit of fear or confusion. Unlike the jacket and jeans combination that present Margaret sported, this Margaret seemed to be wearing a business style suit, complete with a low skirt that stretched to her ankles and a suede jacket over a white button up shirt and a red tie. This woman brought up her wing and adjusted the glasses over her beak, looking as prim and sophisticated as possible.
"Who are you?" Margaret asked this imposter in front of her.
"Who do you think I am?" the woman responded with a frown.
"I think you're someone I'd rather not meet," Margaret answered her, annoyed that this woman wouldn't answer her own question.
"And why is that?" the woman continued to ask.
"Cause I have a bad history with doppelgangers," Margaret said, pointing to the electric monster behind her.
The imposter glanced behind her and saw Iacedrom frozen in the process of torturing the past Margaret. "Oh yes… I remember that," she said with the same frown. "Well then, I suppose in the mean time while you figure it out, you may call me Teragram."
Margaret twitched at that name. Not only could she tell it was a bastardization of her own name, but it only brought back terrible memories of the hell her and her friends went through with the creature behind her, who also shared a backwards name.
"I can tell that this place upsets you," Teragram commented as she looked around the room. "Doesn't make me the happiest person either, so I suppose a change of scenery is in order."
The woman waved her hand around the air, and changed the "photo" to a memory not too soon after that. They were in the hospital room again. Mordecai was hooked up to an IV and had bandages all over him self. Margaret sat in a chair next to the bed, doing her best to rest and fall asleep. Rigby sat in a chair opposite of her looking worried and concerned. Knowing what she knows not, Margaret could definitely see the compassion in his eyes and the undying love he felt for the bird.
"It's kind of sad watching him," the doppelganger said, observing the raccoon. "He deserved so much better and look what he got…"
Margaret sighed at the sight as well, feeling absolutely dreadful for everything that had happened to them the past few months.
"Yes, yes," Teragram continued. "Look what he got: Rejection from his best friend, and a whore who's trying to steal his man."
Margaret knew something like that was going to come sooner or later. Any thought of this woman being an evil twin was cemented into her brain now as she listened. A statement like that would unnerve anyone and cause them to become filled with rage, but Margaret took a deep breath and allowed it to hit her with stride.
"Of course you would say that," she muttered. Margaret turned to look at this woman again. "Who are you really?"
Teragram gave the briefest of smiles, keeping her gaze set on Rigby. "Well you're going to have to figure that one out for yourself, aren't you?"
Margaret turned back to the sleeping past version of her self and sighed. "Figures…"
"Oh come on," the clone said adjusting her glasses again, "it's not that bad. You'll figure it out soon enough. If you're lucky, maybe it'll be soon enough to save him."
The robin turned to away from herself to look at herself. She thought for a second how absolutely strange that sounded. "What do you mean 'save him'?"
"Well what do you think I mean?"
Margaret sighed in exasperation again as she tried to piece together what this woman was talking about. Save him? What did she mean by that? The only two men that she had a chance to save were Rigby and Mordecai, and she was pretty sure they one of them was dead. Hell, she was pretty sure that she herself was dead and that this was some sort of representation of hell for her.
"You're not dead, and this isn't hell," Teragram whispered in Margaret's ear.
Margaret jumped back when she noticed the doppelganger come up on her so unexpectedly. What's more, she answered the doubts she had in her mind.
"How did you know what I was thinking?" Margaret chimed.
"How do you think?"
These answering questions with more questions was starting to get on the red robin's nerves.
"It is annoying, isn't it?" the clone said with a sly grin.
"Stop that," Margaret exclaimed getting sick of it. So apparently, this girl could read her mind. The real Margaret would have to make sure not to think anything too clearly, less she unveils something important.
"Oh, you don't have to worry about that," Teragram said out of the blue, "I already know everything about you."
Margaret was getting scared. She didn't like this person in front of her. And the fact that this creature was using her face made her feel even worse about it.
A flash of light occurred in front of them, signaling a change in time period again. The two found themselves in Margaret's old apartment, looking on at the swelling conversation that Rigby and past Margaret were in the middle of.
"I don't care if you're sorry," the raccoon screamed, his voice echoed in the apartment. "I don't care anything about you!"
The old Margaret took a step back, feeling every bit of the incoming verbal assault that Rigby was dishing out. Present Margaret flinched as she remembered the feeling of getting screamed at because of her own incompetence; another moment she didn't want to relive. She could see the anger on the raccoon's face and watched as he continued to berate her.
"How stupid are you! Mordecai's been crushing all over you for who knows how long, and this entire time you couldn't see it! You… you play with him, you toy with his emotions, and then, and then… and then you go and say that you think we're a couple of q…"
"Stop it," the present day Margaret muttered at her double's direction. "Why are you showing me all these things? Haven't I suffered enough? I don't want to see any of these images again, so why are you showing them to me?"
Teragram took a few steps forward into the scene, phasing through the angry raccoon in the process. "Well…" she began with her back facing Margaret. "Why am I showing all of-"
"Quit the BULLSHIT," Margaret screamed as she approached her clone and turned her around. As she turned her around, Teragram's head fell limply to its side, the neck bone protruding out of her flesh and feathers. Margaret let her go in shock, watching the body fall to the floor. As it met the ground, the head popped off and rolled a few feet along. It stopped suddenly when a foot clamped down on top of it.
Margaret's eyes followed the leg up to its face and was met with Teragram again. "You scare too easily, girl," she said with that frown again. "Even if we don't want to admit it."
She put all her strength on her food, and crushed the head into a pile of flesh, bone, and gore all over the apartment floor. The past Margaret and Rigby both suddenly stared at the present day Margaret with dead eyes and screamed.
The bird took a gulp of breath and closed her eyes. Maybe if she closed her eyes and pretended she was dreaming, she would wake up back home. She began to count.
1…
2…
3…
4…
5…
6…
7…
8…
9…
10…
She opened her eyes and found herself back in the bed of the park house. She sat up from under the covers and looked around. Rigby was on his trampoline dreaming quietly, the morning sun was slowly coming out onto the room, everything was still there. The alarm clock on the night stand had a few minutes on it left before the timer would go off.
Was that it? Was it just some sort of deranged dream? Margaret fell back onto the bed in relief. She started thinking that maybe she was working too hard to impress everyone. How long had she been working there now? Only a few weeks, right? That dream though. Made it seem like a few months actually.
Something hit her though, like a shot of adrenaline. It started at her pelvis spreading over her body instantaneously. It was familiar. She knew what it was. The wave shot through her again, as her eyes closed when it happened a third time. In fact, it kept happening. Such a strange thing this pleasurable feeling, causing little shivers to course through her body in quick succession.
She blinked, and there was Mordecai above her, thrusting himself into her at a steady rhythm. Each time he came down he released a heavy breath, that seemed to get louder into a moan. Margaret herself clutched at his back, letting out contented gasps and her own sounds of ecstasy as the male continued to push him self in and out of her.
"Mo…Mordecai," she gasped out. "Gon-gonna… almost…"
Something familiar about all this. Something unique about all this. She was beginning to LOSE herself to the feeling, clearing her mind of any short comings, and not caring to explain the situation. This feeling was too good. She didn't want to let that go. Her body was lifted up suddenly, and she found her self on his lap as he continued to lust with her. Mordecai wrapped his wings around her, bringing her into a close embrace. His beak met with hers in a series of kisses. Margaret barely had anytime to kiss back when she felt a force began to build in her.
"I'm about to..." she muttered happily.
"Me too," he said quickly, returning to his kisses.
It was coming at full force, there was no STOPPING it. Margaret let out a bellowing scream as she felt her orgasm at full force.
WHORE
A sudden cold came over her a moment later. Margaret found herself outside, naked and spent, with Benson right in front of her. He stared at her for a moment before looking away with hesitation and walking back to his chores. He looked at the cup in his hand for a split second before continuing on.
A sense of shame and disgust for herself swept over Margaret. She was still in this dream, or hell, or whatever it was. She didn't want to be here. She didn't want to be in the cold, naked, and exposed smelling of sweat and sex. But she wasn't actually… a quick glance at herself and she was back in the clothes she came in with, jacket, jeans, and all.
"Funny," that familiar female voice began, "this whole thing scares you shitless, but you don't get freaked out by the sudden fuck you receive."
"I thought the whole thing was a dream," Margaret snapped at Teragram, who had appeared in front of her, sporting a to go cup of coffee.
She adjusts her glasses again and turns to walk away. "Just tells you something about it."
"About what?" Margaret asks as she picks herself up from off the ground.
"About how much of a hypocrite you are…"
SLUT
"Hypocrite? For what, for liking being close to someone I care about like that?"
"So you don't see it as just sex?" Teragram asked as she took a sip of coffee. "Well then what is it then? Is it making love?"
"Why shouldn't it be? Mordecai and I have slept with each other a few times these past few weeks, it's nothing big."
"My dear 'me'," the clone started again, "in order for it to make love, you first must have a connection with this person, preferably romantic, hence the term. But lets be honest here… you and Mordecai don't have anything other than a passing fancy."
The women looked at each other, both of them with knifes and daggers in their eyes.
"Passing fancy?" Margaret said. "I think it's a little more than that."
"Really now?" Teragram asked, pretending to look interested. "Explain."
"Do you have any idea what Mordecai and I had to go through to get to where we are?"
"Oh," the doppelganger exclaimed, "you mean being confused about your feelings for one another, while being in a romantic relationship with a raccoon, trying to keep the blue jay level headed in the relationship, and then later getting yourself killed by his overactive emotions? How is that working out for you, by the way?"
"Look, I'm not defending what we're doing here," Margaret explained.
"I see differently," the clone murmured.
"…but it works, okay? We all love each other, and we all know it."
"Do you now? Because, again, I see differently."
"Well you seem to know so much about me," Margaret argued, "why don't you explain."
HARLOT
"Well it's simple."
The locale changed again to that of a dark nothingness with a single lamp hanging over a bed. In the bed were Margaret and the two boys in the act. Paws and wings searching frantically for flesh, fur, and feathers. Moans and groans were released from the various residents of the bed, and their thoughts were cleared of all short comings, filled only with lust and pursuit of pleasure for themselves and one another.
"You don't care who it is," Teragram said as she approached the bed. "You'll just fuck 'em and be done with it."
Margaret was taken a back from that sudden outburst and approached the woman. She reached back her hand and slapped the copy right across the cheek. She felt the sting too, and was thrown to the ground by the force. Teragram, however, was unmoved and remained stationary, looking on at the act in the bed.
"I think at this point," she said coldly, "you just want somebody to be with… even if it's only for fifteen minutes."
Shadows from the darkness pinned Margaret to the floor, raising them selves up and began to form distorted images of past and present men in her life. They began to claw at her clothes and face, desperately wanting her body.
"If you truly did care about either one of them, and yes, I am including Rigby cause I know you care about him the same way as you do Mordecai; if you truly did care for them, you wouldn't want to do it."
These shadows surrounded her, and continued to rapidly rush and grab her. Their mouths began to kiss and lick all over her face and neck. She hated it. She felt like her body was about to be raped.
"You would care more about the closeness of them emotionally than physically. And that's what scares you… us, the most."
Margaret began to struggle and scream at everything around her. Teragram continued to watch the three people in bed repeatedly attack each other passionately.
"You're scared to death of that emotional connection, cause that would mean that it's over. You won't have to search anymore to find your Mr. Right. And spending the rest of your life with that one and only guy… well… that is an absolutely TERRIFYING thought when you think about it, for anyone."
Margaret let out a loud scream at the top of her lungs.
YOU'RE NOTHING
Another cold shiver came over her, and she was outside in the middle of the street. The shadows and everything pertaining to them were gone, replaced with an angry traffic jam and cold weather.
"This is good coffee," the twin said as she sipped on her drink happily. "Honestly, I don't know why you decided to go along with that whole speaker thing. You're missing out on some great joe."
Margaret picked herself up from off the ground and stared angrily at Teragram. The fury she had for this woman was nothing short of deadly.
"Oh wait, that's right," she continued, "you've already had a Joe at one point in your life, haven't you?"
The girl began to snicker evilly at Margaret from her joke.
"You know," Margaret finally said, "in my experience, the ones who always dress like they have something to hide tend to be whores in my book."
Teragram took yet another sip of her coffee and looked at her own attire. While she did admit that the business casual thing did leave something up to the imagination, there was nothing whorish about her.
"No better than you dressing up to show off your chest."
Touché. Margaret could feel her eye twitch from this woman in front of her. She began to think of horrible ways to kill her, hoping that this creature would pry into her mind and see what she was thinking.
"With a red hot poker?" Teragram asked her. "Seriously?"
She rolled her eyes and continued to allow Margaret her thought games.
"Even you can make mistakes, Benson," a familiar voice said to the side of the two birds.
On cue, both of them turned to look in the direction the voice was coming from. There was Benson and Skips in the golf cart, trying to wait out this terrible traffic jam in front of them.
"Yeah, well… I should have thought better about it," Benson replied to his previous statement. He shivered unhappily and continued to find warmth in someway or another.
Margaret watched the gumball machine shake and chatter uncomfortably. She wondered what it must be like to be a creature that couldn't create its own heat. The bird already felt bad for Benson, but watching this just made her feel even worse. Her attention shifted to Skips, who was looking at Benson with concerned and caring eyes. His arm outstretched to his friend, and pulled the gumball machine into his fur.
Margaret smiled at the sense of care Skips had for his co-worker, and felt a little jealous in the process. So rarely did she see anybody in the park acknowledge each other in such a compassionate way.
"Well that's not true at all," Teragram coughed out.
"Quit spying on my brain," Margaret screamed out.
"But it's not true, and you know that. Everybody at that park acknowledges each other in the same caring sympathetic way: Mordecai and Rigby are best friends, Muscle Man and High Five Ghost are frat brothers, Skips and Benson are constantly working together, and Pops just loves everyone. But what about you?"
"What about me?" Margaret asked her.
Teragram gave a smug grin before continuing. "Yes, yes. What about poor ole Margaret. Well… she doesn't have anybody to fall back on when the chips are down. She didn't have anyone back at the coffee shop, why should she have anyone now? Sure there's Mordecai and Rigby, but…"
The woman lets out a low laugh.
"But they're doing their own thing, while poor Margaret goes around feeling like a third wheel. Isn't that sad? So how does Margaret counteract this…?"
"I'm on pins and needles," the robin said sarcastically to her copy.
"She seduces them! Makes a move on both of them, not just one, but both! That's the perfect way to make some friends… to fuck 'em!"
"You're sounding like a broken record at this point," Margaret snapped, as she began to lean against a nearby car. "Is that your insult for everything? That I'm a whore?"
"It's not an insult if it's true."
Margaret slammed her fist into the side of a car. She was getting tired of hearing the same thing over and over from this person.
Margaret peaked over at the golf cart again to get a good look at Benson and Skips. Her eyes grew worried when Benson had turned around and was staring directly at her. Teragram raised in eyebrow in confusion when she noticed it as well.
"Hmmm…" she moaned. "Can he see us? I swear that gumball machine is full of surprises. You know, I'm almost sure he and the yeti have something going on between them, but I got nothing to support that." The woman shrugged and then raised her hand into the air and snapped her fingers.
YOU'LL NEVER BE ANYTHING
The real robin sighed deeply as she took a look around herself. "Now where did you take me?"
They appeared to be somewhere that Margaret had never been to before. Her eyes began to examine the room to see where her clone had taken her. Small tables and desks were strewn around the area, far too small for any adult to fit in. Toys and games littered the corner of the room where several children played and talked amongst themselves. Colorful wallpaper and carpeting was placed around the floors and walls, giving it an extremely cheerful demeanor. Margaret had no doubt that she was in some sort of daycare center or a school.
The sounds of laughter and childish tears filled the room with a sense of innocence that Margaret smiled at. She always wanted to be a teacher of some sort, preferably to children. One of her favorite jobs growing up was babysitting. She always knew the right things to say to a small child to get them smiling.
"Ms. Maggie! Ms. Maggie!"
Margaret shook at the mention of her name suddenly. She looked down and saw a small girl, no older than five run up to her with tears running down her face and a teddy bear clutched under her arm. The girl quickly ran over to the red robin and tugged at her skirt to try and get the attention of the bird better.
"Skirt?" Margaret muttered as she adjusted the glasses on her beak. "Glasses?"
She took a quick glimpse of herself, top to bottom. She was wearing the exact same garb that Teragram was wearing earlier. The skirt, the jacket with shirt and tie, the glasses, everything that he doppelganger was wearing, she was now wearing herself.
"Ms. MARGWETT!"
"Huh, what?" Margaret said as she snapped back into reality, or what semblance of realism this place had. "I mean… um… what's wrong sweetie?"
She quickly adopted the nature of a caring parent. Whatever was happening, it was probably in her best interests to go along with it.
"M… M… M…"
Margaret knelt down so she could meet the child at her eye level. "You can tell me sweetie. What's the matter?"
"M… M… Mordecai's being mean again! He stole my crayons!"
"Morde… cai?" Margaret sputtered out slowly. The little girl in front of her nodded and pointed to the corner of the room where all the children were playing.
Suddenly, everyone was gone save for Margaret and a kid sitting at a small table, coloring on a piece of paper. The child was a small boy, maybe around five or six years old. He was covered in small developing blue and white feathers, and had a protruding black beak. The feathers on his head stuck up on two ends, giving him a specific characteristic. Margaret had no doubt in her mind.
"Mordecai?" she asked as she slowly approached the boy.
"What!" he snapped back in a childish manner.
Margaret was about to say something to test if this was the Mordecai she had grown to love, but didn't want to risk it. She was still stuck in this bizarre dream world, so she continued her façade as she walked up to the boy and sat down next to him.
"Mordecai, um…," she started trying to get a grip on the situation. She took a deep breath and tried to adopt the stern manner of a teacher. "So I heard you stole someone's crayons. Is this true?"
"No!"
Margaret chuckled at his sudden outburst and watched him color with obviously stolen crayons.
"Are you lying?" she asked with a little sympathy in her voice.
"No!"
"Mordecai…"
"I needed them, okay," he screamed at her.
Margaret felt slightly taken aback from him for a moment before resuming her composure. "You know stealing is wrong, right?"
"I wanted to draw some things though. For you."
"Really?" the woman asked. "Well how about this. I'll look at your drawing you made for me, if you apologize to the little girl you stole the crayons from. Okay?"
Mordecai nodded and set the black crayon in his hand down on the table. The drawings he was working on then slid over to Margaret without even moving. She picked them up without a moment's hesitation and looked at it.
The first one was what looked to be a crudely drawn version of Rigby and Margaret with the little child Mordecai. They were playfully walking hand in hand in some sort of color sunlight world where the sky was green and ground was orange. It put a smile on Margaret's face.
"I wanted to draw what it used to be like," the blue jay said quietly, "before you and dad broke up."
"Dad?" Margaret whispered to herself. In this world, Margaret and Rigby were married? And Mordecai was their son?
A cold shiver ran down Margaret's spine suddenly. Everything felt way off this time. What kind of world was this? This wasn't a world of Margaret's own creation. She took a quick glance around the room to see if Teragram was watching somewhere. The bitch wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"Do you and dad hate me?" Mordecai ask her.
Margaret turned back to the boy to find him sobbing and crying up a storm. He brought his wings up to try and wipe away the tears, but it was futile. They just kept falling.
She quickly embraced the small boy in her arms and held him close to her chest. "No, no, no, no, no. We could never hate you Mordecai. You're the best thing that's ever happened to us."
A sort of pain stabbed at her chest when she realized what she just said. The man had basically killed her in cold blood, and there she was talking about how much she still cared for him. She sounded like a battered housewife. And yet, she knew what she had said was true. In some sick and demented way, she still cared about Mordecai the same way she always did.
"Really?" he asked her, crying into her chest.
"Really," she answered sincerely.
"Even after I killed you?" it said in deep echoing voice.
Margaret went wide eyed and looked down at the boy. He was dead in her arms, blood pouring out of every orifice on his body. She dropped the boy like a sack of bricks on the floor. Quickly looking around her self, the scenery had change, but it hadn't. She was still in the same room as before, but everything was no longer three dimensional. Everything looked as though it had been drawn by a child with crayons. Laughter began to fill the room; devilish, childish laughter that she wanted to stop.
"…mama… …mama… …mama…"
Margaret recognized those child like voices. They had been cemented from her mind, and she had no intention of hearing them ever again.
She ran across the room, toward a closed door that looked as though it was still vivid and three dimensional. The bird burst through the door and found herself in another still photo. The image consisted of the kitchen from the park house. Skips and Pops were overlooking the sick Benson, who was still in utter pain from his headaches at the time.
Margaret stopped to catch her breath, putting her hand on the table for stability as she processed everything.
"Hey," muttered a voice next to her.
She turned and saw the blue jay sitting in a chair holding up the other drawing he had made. It depicted every one of the park staff, dead and bloody, surrounding a happy little blue jay.
"Do you like it, mama?"
She fell through the floor suddenly as the sound of glass shattered all around her. Fear clouded her mind as the world around her went black as she plummeted.
PATHETIC! PATHETIC! PATHETIC!
Margaret hit an invisible floor hard, feeling every bone in her body break. Pain surged through her entire body as she struggled in futile to move. But every time she was successful in moving her body even an inch, a terrible hurt came over her. She was almost sure that Teragram was wrong, and that she was indeed in hell.
"How many times do I have to tell you?" a feminine voice asked from above. "You are not in hell!"
"LEAVE ME ALONE," Margaret screamed. "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!"
"I wish I could," Teragram said as she sat down next to Margaret. The woman was still in her teacher attire. Margaret did her best to tilt her head enough to get a good look at she was wearing herself. Her jacket and jeans combo had returned to her yet again.
"I'm surprised you haven't figured it out yet," the clone continued as she reached into her pocket and pulled out a wrapped snack. She tore it open and took a big bite of her granola bar. "Sorry," she apologized to Margaret, "I haven't eaten anything all day."
"WHAT WAS THE POINT!" Margaret shrieked. "WHAT WAS THE POINT OF SHOWING ME THAT! OF SHOWING ME ANY OF THIS!"
"Showing you what?"
"UUUUUUUGH!"
"Oh, you mean the kindergarten. Isn't that what you always wanted to be?"
"STOP… IT!"
"You seem angry," Teragram smiled. "I don't know. What do you think Benson?"
NO MAN WANTS TO LOVE YOU!
And suddenly there was Benson, standing above them. Margaret had no idea where the scene had changed to. It seemed like an office of some sort actually. She couldn't get a good look around though since she was frozen in place. There was a quick flash of light as screams were heard in the distance. Margaret's head began to twist and stab in pain, forcing screams to release from her beak.
She convulsed in pain, trying to get away from it somehow. Teragram sat next to her, happily chewing away at her snack, no even acknowledging the pain that her counterpart was in. Margaret continued to shake, causing pain and stress all over her body. Finally, darkness filled the area again, and her body stopped convulsing.
"Feeling better?" Teragram said with a frown.
"Go… to… hell…" Margaret coughed.
"According to you, we're already there," the demon said with a growing grin. "So does that make me the devil, since, you know, you hate yourself?"
Margaret tried to move her body close enough to maybe tackle her somehow and smother the girl. No luck sadly, but something else caught her attention. It was in her jacket pocket. It shook slowly, and began to fall out of her pocket.
"What's this?" the clone asked as she looked at the jacket pocket as well.
Margaret tried to eye her pocket more intently, but all she could see what the shining top of whatever it was slowly protruding out of her pocket. She shook as much as she could, ignoring the pain that came with it in an attempt to force out whatever was in it. It popped out a few seconds later.
"Oh no," she muttered as it fell to the floor and began to roll away. "Oh god no…"
It rolled a few feet before losing its momentum and stopping completely. Teragram got on her hands and knees and crawled over to whatever had fallen out of the girl's pocket. She picked it up with her wings and examined it closely.
"Well, what do you know," the copy said with excitement, "what do you know…"
She held it up in the direction of Margaret, confirming the bird's fears of what it was. Teragram smiled hatefully as she held Benson's gumball in her hand.
"…missing…"
"...gumball…"
"…syndrome…"
"No no no no no," Margaret began to repeat to herself. "I forgot… I must of forgot…"
Teragram continued to smile as she looked at the gumball in her hand. She licked the top of her beak as she watched the ball shine and shimmer off some imaginary light in the darkness. Gradually, her smile turned into a chuckle, and then into full blown laughter.
"Give it back," Margaret muttered as she made an attempt to scoot her way over to her clone. "Give it back."
"I'll bet it must hurt right now," the monster giggled as she pocketed the gumball in her own pocket. "To realize that we were the reason Benson's in the hospital right now. Kind of confusing too. This is priceless. This is priceless. This is absolutely priceless!"
"Please stop this," Margaret continued to bargain, "please, please, please just stop this. I don't want to do this anymore. Just give me the gumball and let me go home."
"Oh, sweetie," Teragram bellowed sarcastically, "you are home."
THEY DON'T WANT YOU
The scene changed to the bedroom again. Margaret could suddenly feel the warmth of something on top of her again. She hoped it wasn't this crazy woman playing with her emotions again, but she knew she wasn't going to be that lucky.
She knew what they were though. She could feel the soft and furry arms of Rigby, draped over her belly, and the delicate wings of Mordecai cuddling her into him. They weren't breathing or showing any signs of life. They were both dead. Margaret didn't want to even try to look at their faces or bodies to see how Teragram made it looked like they had died.
"Isn't this home to you?" she asked quietly. "Being with the people you love the most. Through life and death?"
"I don't want this anymore…" Margaret sobbed.
Teragram huffed out a chuckle. "If you're this easily broken, then you'll never save him."
Margaret continued to stare up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and began to count to ten again, hoping once and for all she would wake up from this foul dream.
1…
2…
3…
4…
5…
6…
7…
8…
9…
10…
Her eyes opened, and she was in the darkness again. Teragram loomed over her visibly, with a sad expression on her face.
"All the others never wanted us," she said solemnly as tears began to roll down her face. "But the other two… they did." She faded away a second later, the gumball in her pocket falling to the floor again, bouncing a few times before stopping suddenly on the ground.
Margaret was once again left with only herself and her thoughts. The bird could feel her body heal and her strength return, so she sat up from the ground.
She thought about her clone. Teragram… her own name spelled backwards. She was cold and calculating in nature, wearing everything to seem as professional as possible. The woman saw things in a conservative and serious matter, but at the same time, had no problem gaining joy from her own faults. She was in love with someone unlike herself, but in many ways the same as well. More so than a certain other somebody.
"So you were me then?" Margaret asked herself. "Or maybe what I always wanted to be?"
Margaret felt her head shock in a headache. All of this was confusing and nonsensical. She still didn't know what the point of any of this was. What was it that Teragram said? She said that she could save him. Was she referring to Mordecai… or Rigby? Where was she anyways? She picked up the gumball and looked at it closely before sticking it back into her jacket pocket.
As much as she wanted to run away, there something in her that wanted to see this madness to the very end. A door lay in front of her, decorated with childish drawings, teenage keep sakes, and adult memories. A triangular doorknob stood between her and the end.
She walked forward, and opened the door.
Between Breaths (an XX perspective) – Blaqk Audio
We can't go back... It's gone too far...
Adieu…