A/N: I cut my mouth on juice today…I don't know how that works. I don't think I wanna know.

Shit…I'm being a drama llama in this chapter again. I'm going to shoot myself with a bubble gun. It's a lot of fun.

Disclaimer: Listen here Vasquez, you try and sue me and I'll make you drink my deadly juice. I don't care if you're God, the fucking bad art collection made me retarded! And though I cannot stay mad at you, I also will not hesitate to force this here juice on you.

Chapter Four: Long Time No See

As I found myself lost in this inky black pit of despair, and as every fatal memory finally settled down into the slots they were intended to occupy but never before felt the need to acknowledge, I heard myself draw in a single breath.

That one intake of air sounded louder than even my own heavily beating heart, which by this point was set on such an extreme pace I feared it might over heat.

Looks like the microwave was about the blow it up after all. What a mess.

And the breath, like some sort of vacuum cleaner, sucked the city back in place.

It all came back in a blurred manner. Instead of floating like when they left, the buildings and people fell at impossible speeds. Crashing violently back into the unfortunate reality that was controlled by me.

I almost felt sorry for them, to be stuck in this mad little world of mine. But the fact that these very people do whatever they can to disrupt my reality makes any feeling of remorse I might entertain disappear rather quickly.

Let them rot in this hell I've created, and then let them suffer once I send them off to the real thing.

But that makes me sound bitter now doesn't it?

Then as every piece of the puzzle came back together, the wind came again and allowed me to hear the words that were spoken previously by the child who was once again before me, as if no time had passed at all.

I felt like laughing to myself or maybe at myself at those two very simple words

"Thank you."

God, when was the last time anyone's ever thanked me? Not even those convenience store cashiers who are paid to say 'thank you and have a nice day', ever say that to me.

It was just something that didn't happen. As if the world knew what I did. As if the entire fucking population was secretly aware and made some sort of silent vow to never thank me because I didn't deserve it in the first place. Because I have never said an I'm sorry, and I've never expected an I forgive you, so it was decided that no courtesies should ever be expressed if they were to never be received.

Well, fuck them.

But then here was this child, thanking me for committing the greatest sin imaginable. Last time I checked, manslaughter wasn't something on the 'To be thankful for' list.

At least, you wouldn't hear any pastors adding it to their nightly prayers any time soon.

But I suppose a victim's opinion concerning the death of his tormentors is bound to be different than that of some uninvolved self-righteous activist's.

People like that have no right to judge what's wrong and what isn't.

It's so funny how society functions.

Following along the rules and guidelines of people who rarely ,if ever, know what it feels like to be on these streets. They don't see the tears, the blood, the pain, the dirt…they are incapable.

If there is any truth in this world, it is that murder is almost always justified.

And that's a fact.

I wanted to laugh, because for the first time in a long time I was finally in a situation that was funny. Fate could have such a lovely sense of humor when she wanted to.

So I really, really wanted to laugh…but deep down, I knew I couldn't.

Deep down, I knew that if I tried nothing would come out.

Because I'm empty, and I have no laughter inside of me.

I can't even remember the last time I smiled.

Not one of those crooked twisted smirks of mine either.

I mean…a real smile.

The kind of smile that's so warm with joy that it cracks your face and shatters the layers of ice that had gathered there.

No, I can't remember a smile like that.

Either because I am just incapable of remembering, or maybe because I've always been incapable of doing.

I really might have never smiled.

There's always, always been something behind my smiles. Always something there to hold back the warmth that makes it a smile. But I was so numb from the cold, I guess I never really noticed.

It's not like it really matters though.

That I can't smile, that I can't laugh.

Because in the end, it will always get taken away from me. And that just makes the sadness deeper. Better to hold onto nothing, that way you never lose your grip.

But now I'm just being depressing aren't I? Fook, I sound like D-Boy for god's sake.

So to distract myself, I decided to pick up a conversation with the boy; after all, if engaged properly and with the right kind of person, a conversation can be a pleasant thing.

Not a conversation comprised of screams, begging and curses. No, simply words. Real words.

"They picked on you a lot didn't they?"

First rule of conversation making, find some common ground. This tends to work 97 of the time. The other 3 is when you're dealing with someone who's been lobotomized, in which case conversation is mostly futile.

So he nodded…and while body language is useful, it does nothing to fuel a nice conversation. Such a pity, talking isn't quite my strong point either…at least not when it comes to people that exist outside of the imaginary realm.

I didn't have much else to say, so I just leaned back on my heels and looked around awkwardly.

I was just pondering on where I had see this boy before, because I just knew I've seen him a long time ago. And the memory was there…but I couldn't summon it up. Stupid brain, never listens to a damn thing I say. But my musings were cut short again by his words.

"Umm, my name's Todd" He said as he held out his hand.

Bingo.

I grinned as I took the offered hand in greeting

"Todd? I like Squee better."

How could I have forgotten such big eyes? And at the moment they were as large as dinner plates, blinking in confusion, his mouth agape.

It looked funny, even better than the other day when I once again traumatized him.

He was in quite a bit-o-shock at my reply.

"N-no one's called me that in years…how do—who ARE you?"

Oh I see how it is, I forget about people and they forget about me.

Well, to be fair, I guess that I'm the kind of person who leaves memories you'd want to suppress.

Poor Squeegee, looks like you haven't changed much at all. I don't know if I should count that as a good thing or a bad thing.

Such sad eyes though. Eyes unbefitting for a child.

"You mean to tell me you don't remember?"

"I'm sorry…but I really don't know who you are."

"Then allow me to introduce myself. My name's Johnny, but you can call me Nny."

His mouth then turned down and his face formed a depressed, pensive look; one I myself have worn on many occasions.

"Squee? Squeegee? You ok?" I waved a hand in front of his field of vision, he shook his head and came back into the same plane of reality I was occupying.

I always envy people that can do that, just get lost in themselves.

Forget everything and hide.

They have their own little world they can go into whenever they please, and just leave the rest of us behind…alone and forgotten.

Then he looked up and me, and he smiled.

Now I ask you, have you ever meet someone who's smile hurt to watch?

I mean…I'm sure his smile was genuine, but there was pain behind it, pain from years of suffering. How is it though, that his pain does not affect the warmth of his smile? It all just seemed so hypocritical to me.

Maybe I'm just jealous or more likely little Squee listened to what I said to him, about not letting the world get to him.

Could it be that I actually did something good in my life?

That's a scary thought.

Though, I'm curious Squeegee, just what sort of person have you become? Have you stayed the same this whole time? Or did you grow into some other sort of person entirely?

Are you now filled with hatred for this world like me?

Are you on the verge of becoming a monster and eating people?

Or are you about to be eaten?

TBC

A/N: Holy. Shit.

ALL of this was supposed to happen TWO chapters ago. By now this fic should have ended.

I'm super sorry I'm dragging this out. It really shouldn't be much longer than three more chapters kay guys?

I know nothing really happened again.

But the next chapter's gunna have the climax of this story if you can believe that, so put up with me.

Oh and I know Johnny contradicts himself a lot in this story, but he does in the actual book, so I don't really care about any incongruence.

Once again, thanks goes out to all the silly people who are nice enough to read this.

Please leave a review, I love suggestions!