Chapter Four
Trigger Warnings For This Chapter: Cursing, Mental Illness Traits, Hallucinations, Homelessness, and Desperation.
Pinky walked along aimlessly. 2 p.m on a Wednesday, and he was already done for the day. All he had to do was dance in front of a car lot for a few hours. Once they brought out the inflatable guy, they said he could go.
He was wearing some rather plain clothes. Everything was brown and a bit holey. And he was wearing the clown jacket. It was too chilly to go without a jacket. He walked along, looking into shops he knew he could never purchase from, but the fantasy of doing so was there. A pet store stopped him for quite a while. He could see the kitties from the window, and it was hard to walk away from. Until the owner came out and told him to leave.
Pinky sighed. There wasn't much to do when you were dirt poor. You could do a lot of walking, though.
He kept on walking for a few hours, stopping here and there to give his ribs a break. He knew he should probably be resting, but he figured walking wasn't a horrible idea. Plus, there's just absolutely no way he could sit still for more than… well, his record was thirty-two minutes. And it was agonizing.
He didn't know why he couldn't stay still. He didn't know why he did a lot of things. Other people could sit still. Other people also didn't blurt out things that weren't real words or not know how to spell good or understand things well. Other people also didn't see some of the things Pinky could see. The word he hated the most buzzed throughout his mind. Crazy!
"Oof!" Pinky crashed to the ground and clutched his sides. "Oh, dear heavens." He groaned to himself and peeked through his eyes to see who he had bumped into. However, no one was around. Then he looked down. He was lying on a sign. "Oops."
Pinky slowly got up, moaning the whole time. He brought the sign up with him and repositioned it. Thankfully, he hadn't damaged it. He didn't have the funds to pay for a sign as lovely as this. It had wood edges and a chalkboard middle! Very fancy!
Curious, Pinky squinted at the words that were written. "C-come lis-ten?" Ten what? "Lis-ten?… oh! Listen! Open mic! Free to enter! Narf!" Pinky gasped. It was free! There was something to do! Brain's laugh from the other day replayed in his mind. Oh yeah! This must be a universe sign or something of the kind! He needed jokes to make Brain laugh! Maybe he could get inspiration from this?
Pinky slipped inside the small bar. "Oooo." The lights were dimmed, and the table set-ups were lovely. Someone introduced themselves on stage, and Pinky went and found an empty table. It looked like he was right on time!
While the man introduced himself as Micheal, a waiter tapped Pinky on the shoulder. "Excuse me, … sir." He eyed Pinky up and down with obvious judgment. "Would you like a drink?"
Pinky smiled sheepishly. "Um, I would… is the water here free? Poit."
The waiter rolled his eyes. "Yeah. It's free." He left with a disapproving head shake.
Pinky turned his attention back to the stage with eager ears. He was going to do his best to take mental notes.
The Michael man cleared his throat. "Alright, alright. Enough introduction. So, the other day, my wife fell in the kitchen pretty good. I hear a slam from the living room and rush in. I'm worried she dropped dinner." Everyone in the audience giggled except Pinky.
Why would someone be more worried about dinner and not their wife? What's funny about that? Pinky leaned in closer as if it would unlock a mystery he didn't understand.
The man on stage continued. "So I go in there, and she's on the floor, and I'm thinking, oh thank goodness!"
There was more laughing, and Pinky looked around, concerned. These people are odd. Why would anyone laugh at that?
"So anyways, she looks up at me and says, 'Michael! Please, call me an ambulance!' So I kneeled down, I looked her dead in her eyes, and I said, 'you're an ambulance."
Everyone erupted with laughter. Pinky looked around and tried really hard to understand what the joke was. Why would she want him to call her an ambulance? Wouldn't she want him to… call her an ambulance! Oooh! Now he got it! That was funny!
Pinky laughed hard but stopped when he noticed people staring at him. Everyone else had already finished with their laughter, and they didn't seem to appreciate Pinky being offbeat. He awkwardly tugged at his shirt collar. "S-sorry, everyone! Troz!"
They turned their attention back on the comedian, and Pinky shrunk in on himself. He'd just have to laugh when they did. He'd worry about understanding the jokes later.
Suddenly a glass of water appeared in front of his face. It was placed down roughly, and some of it splashed onto his nose.
The waiter from before released the glass. "There you go. You're… free water."
Pinky could feel the hatred leaking off the man, but he ignored it and smiled. "Thank you very much, sir. I really 'preciate it."
The waiter said nothing and left with a scoff. Pinky focused back on the comedian. "Poit."
The next joke was about a runaway refrigerator, and Pinky didn't quite get it but laughed with the crowd. He looked left to right, trying to gauge when it would start dying down, and was only a second off when it did.
He sipped from his water nervously and kept track of the laughter. Sitting down to hear jokes was a lot more stressful than he anticipated. It seemed like everything was always more stressful than anticipated. Well, not everything. Talking to Brain wasn't stressful. Pinky leaned on his hand and sighed. Brain's so nice and cute. He couldn't wait to make him laugh on Saturday.
After a while, the comedian closed his show, and everyone began leaving. Pinky finished his water and waited until everyone else exited before leaving himself. He didn't want to risk bumping into anyone and making them angry. He involuntary shouted a few of his non-words throughout the show, and he could tell it bothered the people around him.
When Pinky was sure he was the only person left, he walked outside. The moment he opened the door, the scent of burgers assaulted his nose. He turned his head in the direction of the smell, and his mouth watered. He allowed his feet to drag him over to the stand selling the food. Pinky sighed when he saw a line of people purchasing the burgers. He didn't have money.
Pinky walked over to the side of the stand and tip-toed behind it. There had to be a trash can around it somewhere. He sniffed around like a sneaky mouse until his eyes landed on what he was hoping for. Their trash-can!
He was quick to start digging through it. A burger was just what he needed. He had eaten quite a few sweets lately in the form of donuts brought in at work, and he was dying for protein.
Wrapper, wrapper, broken spatula, hmmm... He kept on digging until he felt a hand grab at the back of his jacket. "Poit."
A big, burly man held up Pinky by the scruff of his jacket. "Get outta' here, you rat!" He tossed him aside. "Go on! Get!"
Pinky crashed down and breathed deeply as pain pulsed through him. He looked up as the man shouted at someone else from across the street. "Hey! You're that Snowball guy, right!? You plan on fixing problems like this?!" He pointed at Pinky.
Snowball? Pinky had heard that name before. He glanced over to see a … normal-looking man. Well, not completely normal. There was a scary aura around him. Well, he isn't made of snow at all!
The snowman gave Pinky a disgusted glare. "Absolutely, good sir! Vote for me, and I'll get the vermin off the streets!" He walked off with a snobby wave as the burly man hummed in contentedness.
Pinky got up, dusted himself off, and decided to head back home. Well, back to the bridge. It was a while away.
He retraced his steps, pausing for a brief moment to look at the kitties again. He was quick to leave, though, having learned his lesson from earlier.
Pinky ended up finding a can to kick along the way, which distracted him from his day. People don't seem to want me around, no matter where I go. Well, minus Brain. Pinky felt a little silly having so much faith and trust in a man he barely knew, but Brain had shown Pinky more kindness within a few hours than anyone had ever given him in his life. He almost couldn't help but be obsessed with the idea of the shorter man.
Even Brain will get annoyed with you. You're crazy. You should just go ahead and go all in. Act crazy! Pinky stopped kicking the can and froze. When he gathered enough courage, he whipped his head around. No one was there.
Pinky shivered in place. There had to be someone! "H-hello?! Who said that to me!? Troz!"
A few people from a bit further away looked up and shook their heads. Pinky gulped. Someone must be following him secretly! He backed up a few feet before breaking out into a sprint.
He clutched his sides as the scenery around him blurred in the corner of his eyes. His breathing became more labored, but he couldn't stop. If he stopped, the person who was following him might catch him! He ran, ran, ran, zipping past shops, complexes, and lots.
Pinky kept on going until the pain in his sides became unbearable. He looked around desperately for a place to hide. The ally over there? -no. The dumpster?-no. Aha! Pinky took in a shaky breath and pushed a little further until he reached a bridge. Not his bridge, but a bridge. He felt safe around those.
He rushed underneath it and put a hand over his mouth as he peeked from behind a beam. He didn't see anything and uncovered his mouth, put both hands on his legs, and panted. He must have gotten away. Pinky let himself catch his breath, and then he slid down to the ground. "Ow, ow, ow!" He held himself in place as still as possible until the pain in his ribs started to fade.
"Okay. I think I'm good. Narf!" Pinky looked up. "Aaah!" He clutched at his jacket a moment before glaring. Ghost man had scared him yet again. Typical. Pinky ignored the ghost man's presence and allowed himself to rest. He was too tired to care about the ghost person he had started to become familiar with.
Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
Pinky blinked rapidly until his eyelids stayed open. He wrapped himself up into his jacket. It had gotten a lot colder. And darker. He must have taken a nap. He looked over and stretched, noting that the ghost man had left. He stood up so he could make his way to his bridge.
He didn't make it very far before he heard… *quack!*
Pinky's mouth began to water, and his heartbeat quickened. He faced the duck that had approached him and took a step back as an internal conflict played in his mind. His body wanted him to eat the duck… needed him to eat the duck. But, his brain couldn't help but scream in protest. It was such a cute ducky, and it had approached Pinky. It trusted him.
*quack!*
"Oh, god, you're cute. So very, very cute." And made of meat.
*quack!*
Pinky felt a tear drip down his cheek. He couldn't… he wouldn't…
*quack!*
Pinky's stomach growled, and his mouth began to drip. "I'm… sorry. Poit." Pinky launched down to grab at the bird. It moved when it noticed the sudden motion and ran off. Pinky ran after it. No longer was he a man of smiles but one of pure instinct. His pace quickened, and when he felt it was time, he jumped toward his prey.
He grabbed the bird and allowed himself to roll a little before he came to a stop. The bird struggled against Pinky's hold, but there was no use.
Pinky closed his eyes, wrapped his fingers around the duck's neck, and twisted.
The bird went limp in his hands, and Pinky carried it back to his bridge. This time, he felt deserving of the pain in his sides.
He got "home," tossed a few sticks into a pile, and pulled out a lighter from his jacket pocket. He lit the fire and pulled out a knife from under a stone nearby. His movements were robotic and slow. The expression on his face was that of utter despair. The duck was de-feathered and cooked.
As he chewed on the meat, he sobbed. He could feel his body tingle with pleasure at receiving the nutrients it craved, but he felt utterly guilty about it. The duck probably wanted to live as badly as Pinky did. He probably had a ducky wife and little duckling kids, too. And now they're wondering where their daddy is. He didn't feel like a murderer per se, but he felt pretty close to one.
He ended up eating the entire bird, minus the bones, of course. Pinky gathered the bones into a little pile and started digging a small hole in the ground with his knife. The bones were gently pushed inside the hole and covered. Pinky put his hands together and prayed quietly. "Oh, person who takes people to heaven, I have another favor to ask you. Poit. This time, it's a ducky. I'm sorry I killed it, but please make sure he makes it to duck heaven. Amen."
Pinky kept the fire going to keep himself warm. Every so often, he would shuffle or adjust or fidget. He wanted to sleep, but he also wanted to stay awake and be warm by the fire. It was a tough call.
"Hey."
Pinky whipped around to see a woman poking her head under the bridge. Her hair was dirty and crazy, and her clothes were similar to Pinky's. She must be homeless, too. Pinky felt a little at ease when he realized it was just a homeless woman. Women were much less scary to run into at night. They couldn't overpower him and beat him up. Not wanting to be rude, Pinky smiled and waved. "Hello! Narf! How are you this night?" His worries about being followed earlier had been completely forgotten.
The woman crawled under the bridge and sat across from Pinky, warming herself up. "I'm alright. A little cold. Hope you don't mind."
Pinky shrugged. "Nope. Not at all! Were you needing a place to sleep, too? I normally sleep in that corner over there. You can join me if you want." Pinky knew it was tough being homeless, but he couldn't imagine how much harder it was for a woman. There were a lot more dangers they had to keep an eye out for. He'd gladly share his space with her.
She rubbed her arms and looked at the ground. "Join you? You mean like…"
"Oh, heavens no! I just meant so we could stay warm. I imagine you might feel a bit safer, too. Troz!"
The woman nodded her head. "Okay. Yeah. That sounds good."
They ended up snuggling in the corner together, and Pinky draped the blanket over them both.
The woman clung to Pinky. "Thank you."
Pinky beamed. Maybe this woman was nice like Brain? She seemed alright, anyway. Two nice people in one week! How wonderful! "Not a problem, Narf! So, how'd a nice woman like yourself end up on the streets of Hamington?"
The woman blushed shamefully. "I got pretty addicted to drugs, and it just kept spiraling. One day, it seemed, I had no money, no more friends, and no more family who trusted me."
Pinky's heart ached at hearing the woman's words. "That's so terrible. I'm really sorry. Drugs get a lot of people. They took my parents from me." He remembered walking in on them, dead on the floor of their home. He was put into foster care that following morning, being that he was only eleven.
"I'm sorry to hear that, mister. My name's Jalen, by the way."
"Well, that's a pretty name, isn't it?! My name's Pinky! And if you want, Jalen, I'll be your friend!"
The two talked for quite a while. Jalen ended up going on about her horrible ex-boyfriends, and Pinky ended up talking about Brain. There was a lot of sadness in their conversation, so Pinky decided to talk about something nice instead.
Jalen seemed to relax even more when she realized Pinky was gay. The cuddling truly felt genuine and comforting after that. She knew she wasn't going to be taken advantage of. A glisten not too far away caught her eye. "What's that?"
Pinky looked over. "Oh, that's just my knife. I'll put it up in the morning. I think my lighter's over there, as well. No biggie."
"Okay."
The two ended up falling asleep at around 1 a.m, much warmer than if they had been alone for the night. A lot of things made Pinky sad today, but thankfully, there were things that made him happy, too.
...
Pinky woke up and stretched, feeling much colder than when he had gone to sleep. He looked over to see that Jalen had disappeared. Pinky frowned but got over it. Maybe she needed to be somewhere. He'd probably run into her again. He hoped so. He was sure he had made another friend.
Pinky absentmindedly went to yank the blanket off him, but his hands grabbed at nothing. "Huh?!" He looked down, and his eyes widened. The blanket was gone. Maybe the wind took it?
Something in Pinky urged him to go check on his knife and lighter. He crawled over to where he remembered putting them last night. They were gone, too.
He hit the ground hard and cried out. "Fuck!" He let his tears spillover. I guess Brain was the only nice person he met this week. Now more than ever, he couldn't wait to see him. He needed to see him. He needed to know Brain's kindness was still real.
