Monkey.

Chapter Two:

Nny sat tearfully against the living room wall. Reverend MEAT was trying to persuade him to eat something.

"Come, Johnny. Eat a little. You must be starving. All you've had this week was a freezy. I can't believe you're still alive," MEAT said.

"What's the point in eating? I don't have anything else to live for," Nny mumbled.

"Come now, dear boy. You're only being melodramatic. She was only a woman. Surely you shouldn't take the death of one of these creatures so hard, after all the murders the Doughboys persuaded you to commit," MEAT said.

"Devi was different. She understood me, MEAT. I loved her. She made me glad to be alive. Should I be glad now, when the only thing that kept me from suicide is gone!? I should just kill myself," Nny said.

"KILL yourself? Remember what happened last time? I had to sit here and watch you bleed to death for hours after I was brought here. And then I had to watch you be dead. It's no fun. Suicide isn't the answer. Ooh, I know! Let's go out drinking!" MEAT said.

"You really think alcohol is going to help me at this point? No! All it would do is intoxicate me. I've been intoxicated by my own fear for years now! Making it even worse with some substance of man's sins isn't going to make my all-time low any better!" Nny growled.

"Fine. Then let's get a freezy, or go dancing!" MEAT said joyously.

"NO! I don't want to go anywhere! I just want to curl up and die!" Nny screamed. He whipped out his Die-ary and began to scribble.

Dear Die-ary,

Devi is dead. I killed her. I feel completely responsible for her death. I wish I could crawl under a rock and never come out. Doughboy took over my mind again and made me kill her, but it was still me who completed the action. I can never face myself again. I was beginning to think I was getting recovered, and then THIS. This is just too much. If I didn't already know from experience that suicide solves nothing, I would kill myself right here. I sincerely believe that I am the object of all the torture inflicted upon mankind for their amusement. It is not natural for someone to suffer like this. I have suffered terribly since I was very small. My whole life it seems has been nothing but a pointless attempt to create something better for myself. Sometimes I feel that I......

"What's that you're writing? Sounds like you're feeling sorry for yourself," MEAT said gleefully.

"I am. Boo hoo for me, right? The whole world's out to get Nny. So let's all just throw dirt at him now," Nny murmured sarcastically. (Oh no, stupid teen angst mode, AGAIN?) He slammed out of the house, walking down the street. He walked a few feet but turned around and went to the window of the house beside his. He found it open, and poked his head inside. The small boy inside saw him, and let out a terrified 'squee'.

"Hello there Squeegee," Nny said miserably, pulling himself up onto the windowsill where he sat and stared at Todd.

"H-hi Mr. Scary Neighbor Man. Shmee says you want to chop me up and hide me in the walls," the little boy said, looking at Nny with pure terror. Nny tried to give him a smile, but only succeeded in scaring Squee even more severely.

"M-Mr. Neighbor Man.are you going to hurt me? 'Cause Shmee says you want to hurt me," Squee said. Nny sighed.

"No Squee, I'm not going to hurt you. Shmee..Shmee was mistaken. I won't hurt anybody. I just want to talk."

"Oh. My parents never want to talk. Shmee says they're bad people. He says they don't love me. But they do love me. I know they do. Shmee just doesn't know," Squee said.

Nny shook his head sadly. How was he supposed to tell this small boy that his parents hated him? Really, children were so innocent, so uncorrupted. They wouldn't know pure odium if it looked them in the face. He gave a sad little sigh and shook his head.

"Listen Squeegee, your parents...they may not be the greatest, but you've got them at least. Me, I've never had parents. Well, I have, but somebody killed them a long time ago. A really long time ago. I know it's hard, but you've got to try and accept them," Nny said.

"They don't love me. Shmee is right. I try to make him say they do, but I know he's right. Mommy and Daddy hate me," Squee said sadly.

"No Squee they-"

"Yes they do, Mr. Scary Neighbor Man."

"Well...Squeegee, maybe they ARE bad people, maybe they think they don't love you. But you're their son. Somewhere deep inside, they really do love you. Just give them time. They'll come around eventually. Someday everything's going to be alright. You'll see."

Squee looked up at him with his big shiny little boy eyes. "Really?" he asked.

"Really. Just give them some time."

"Thank you, Mr. Nny."

"Don't mention it. Oh, here, I brought you a present," Nny said. Squee's little face contorted in fear, his eyes widening at the prospect of what the scary neighbor man could have brought him.

Nny produced something out of the pocket of his jacket. Squee was relieved to see that it was only a notebook. It had a black cover. On the cover was written 'Todd Casil' in fancy gold lettering. There was a border going around the edges.

"Here ya go Squeegee. For your stories. Designed the cover myself," Squee said, handing him the notebook.

"Thanks, Mr. Nny Man," Squee said.

"No problem. I have to leave now. G'bye Squee."

"Bye bye, Mr. Neighbor Man."

Nny leaped out the little window and headed back home. He was still extremely disheartened, and walked very slowly. He slammed into his house and sank to the floor. He sat there in despair for several hours, and then suddenly he leapt up.

"I've got to leave. That's it. I've got to get out of here. I can't take it anymore!" Nny said.

"What? Leave? You can't leave!" Rev. MEAT said.

"Yes I can! This place holds too many memories! I killed Devi here! It's all I can think of when I think! I need out! Devi's dead because of me! I don't deserve to live!"

"Then kill yourself or something!"

"Fine, maybe I will!"

"Hey wait, when you die, you're going to hell at this point! You'll never see that woman again if you die right now!"

"I don't deserve to see her again!" Nny said, whipping a knife out of his pocket.