Author's Notes: Sorry I took such a long break from this story. Hopefully I can get back into this one, which should be easier than most of my stories because it was designed to meander a bit. This chapter is short, just something to get back into the groove. Nonetheless I hope you enjoy "Smelling Flowers", which could alternately be called "Grubber Gets To Talk For a Change" :P

Day 11

I must admit, I am a creature that loves surprises. However, I prefer to be on the giving end rather than the receiving end. I enjoy surprising people with my disgusting mannerisms, my contorted body, and my gross habits. I enjoy being unpredictable. Sometimes I'll force myself to talk out of nowhere, I'll learn a new skill just so I can surprise someone with it, and I'll disguise myself to give a random stranger a jump scare. Yes, I do miss scaring people on the streets.

I say all this to paint a picture of the type of person I am. I am a person of many surprises...yet I often have trouble realizing other people can surprise me. My gang never surprises me anymore. I know how they think, what they want, and what they'll do to get it. I know Ace manipulates lesser minds, I know Arturo is insatiably curious, I know that Snake rarely speaks his mind, and I know that Big Billy can be appeased with candy. The doctors that surround me however...I don't know them.

Dr. Langston's exams have become routine. He measures my limbs and tongue, he puts my arm next to a color chart so he can catalogue whether or not there has been a change, and he has once X-rayed me to see how my spinal column is holding up. He doesn't surprise me.

Dr. Phillips didn't surprise me at first either. She seemed fairly straightforward. She brings me in for "therapy" sessions that consist of me blowing raspberries, her writing down that I'm an idiot again, and then her trying to talk to me like I'm a toddler. I despise her. I despise her fake teeth, her awful perfume, and her smile that never wavers as if it were graffitied onto her face! I wish she would just get fired or something so I wouldn't have to look at her!

At least, that's what I kept telling myself, until today.

It all started this morning when I was trying to sneak into the faculty room to get some snacks out of the mini fridge. I've been so hungry lately, and admittedly I'm probably going to get caught soon since I keep stealing their food, but I can't help myself. I've begun to ponder lately if this is how Billy feels all the time. Maybe we should build our new shack closer to a fast food joint so Billy and I can pig out together.

Anyway, I was in the faculty room grabbing whatever food and soft drinks I could find when I heard this awful screaming noise, followed by an even worse crying noise. No guesses for who that was. It was clearly Dr. Phillips.

I probably shouldn't have snuck closer to her office, probably shouldn't have peered from behind the door, but I rarely see this chick miserable. I'm not afraid to admit I wanted to see what it looked like...and see if I could replicate it in an "experiment" of my own. Hey, these people are literally torturing me and allowing my friends to sleep under a bridge during stormy weather. I want to see some waterworks!

When I entered the room, Dr. Phillips was already on her phone. I suppose that shouldn't be too surprising. Rich people are obsessed with their phones. I hope I can get a phone someday. I bet the screen tastes delicious. Okay…I really need to stop thinking about food. Blasted medicine…

I remember she asked for someone named Sarah to pick up the phone. I assumed it was a business call since she was put on hold. Well, that's not very good emotional manipulation material. I turned to quietly sneak away, thinking there was nothing new to learn, when I heard the magic words that kept me rooted in place.

"He just left, Sarah!" Dr. Phillips sobbed into the phone, "Two years of marriage and he leaves at the first sign of his perfect little world changing!"

You read that correctly. That was sarcasm! That was honest to goodness sarcasm, coming out of the mouth of Dr. Dora The Explorer over there! I've never heard her speak like an actual human being before, and frankly I was at a loss regarding what to do with this information. Oh, but it got better…

"He actually said my work was dangerous for the baby," She continued, "I'm a doctor, Sarah! Sanitation is a prerequisite for my job! It's not like verita pigmaplasia is the black plague or something. The people who suffer from this have a genetic condition, not a disease. And it's not like being pregnant is going to suddenly turn me into one of those faint-at-the-vapors housewives like you see in old movies or something! I think he was just annoyed that he'd actually have to turn off his game console for five minutes and help around the house."

The transcription might not be perfect, but I definitely remember the phrase 'faint-at-the-vapors housewives'. That was hilarious! She even did the Southern accent! Pfft! All of this was enough to make me want to eavesdrop, but that wasn't what actually surprised me. No, that came with what she said next…

"…Well, no Sarah. I can't just quit. … Because without me and Dr. Langston there might never be a cure for verita pigmaplasia. I know the medical industry doesn't care about cures like they used to, but that's all the more reason our team needs to keep working. … It's not just about pain, Sarah. It's about opportunity. Verita pigmaplasia is impossible to hide. Once a child is born with the condition, they're ostracized from society. You should see the poor boy I've been working with the past couple weeks. Everything impresses him. He didn't even know how to use a computer until he came here! This child and others like him can't lead full healthy lives in Townsville the way they are. People are afraid to take care of them, people are afraid to befriend them, and people are afraid it's contagious. He needs me, Sarah. They all need me."

I will admit, I'm not used to hearing others talk about me, especially if they think I'm not in the room. Hiding behind that door, a realization hit me that I didn't think would mean as much as it did.

She cared about me. For all her insipid baby-talk and never ending psyche tests, she actually wanted me to get better.

I know, she's a doctor. That should have been obvious. Try to understand though, no one cares about The Gangreen Gang. She was also right about people being afraid of us for our condition. I was abandoned because of the way I looked. I was mistreated in foster care because of the way I look. Normally I don't feel sorry for myself or think too deeply about what I've missed out on. I'm content to be the person I am. I've just…never heard a normal person put into words what we've been through. I didn't think she understood. I didn't think she could.

Now, as I write this, it occurs to me that someone else might read it.

Well, crud.

Eh, I'm not changing it. Maybe they'll give me back my transcripts after the drug trial. It would be nostalgic to one day read over these words and realize what a basket case I was.

If this works…I can actually start thinking about getting old and looking back on my life. I didn't think that was going to be possible. This is not just about the money anymore. If the treatment works, my friends and I could actually grow old together.