"Aww, come on! It's not that bad,"

Rigby replied to Bensons' groan as the three of them waltzed into the park house. Surprisingly, the visit to the hospital wasn't as bad as Benson thought it would be. The only regret that he had was the needle piercing through his foot and the numbing feeling that went up his entire leg when they were about to perform the surgery. He couldn't help but groan, however, when Mordecai told him that Skips still had to clear out the guest room, so he had to bunk with his two employees for the night.

"Besides," Mordecai added with an optimistic tone.

"It's only for tonight until Skips can move all of those boxes out of the guest room." Benson sighed deeply. He didn't want to have to put up with these two immature employees for much longer. The work hours were more than enough to begin with. Rigby scampered up the stairs on all fours with Mordecai stomping up behind him, leaving their gumball machine boss at the door leaning on two crutches. He rolled his eyes at their eagerness of their boss having to bunk with them for the night, and finally drew the crutches under his arms and clutched them fiercely as he headed toward the staircase. He stopped at the first stair and gritted his teeth in anger. "Goddamn it," he cursed under his breath aggressively.

Mordecai came to a halt at the entrance of their bedroom and flipped around to see his boss still standing at the stairway. "Can you make it up dude?" he asked. Benson looked up to him with a face that was flushing red, out of embarrassment and anger at the same time. "You know," he said behind clenched teeth. "I think I'm gonna sleep on the couch." the blue jay shrugged and walked toward the closet to take out some blankets and a pillow. Benson hopped into the living room with the bothersome crutches and withdrew them from under his arms. He plopped down on the couch tiredly, careful not to hit his stitched up foot against the foot of the table in front of him. He flung his bulbous head back onto the cushion and closed his eyes. He couldn't describe how tired he was, of everything going on in his life all at once. "Are you feeling okay dude?" he heard Mordecai's voice beside him. Benson slowly opened his eyes and saw that Mordecai had already gotten the blankets and had sat next to him on the sofa. He tried to nod, but his head had started to ache once more, so he hunched over onto his knees and rested it on his hands. "Yeah, fine," he replied groggily. He didn't feel like getting into a big discussion right now.

"Well, um…sorry what happened with your, err, foot," Mordecai tried to say nonchalantly, only to have it come out sounding awkward. He wasn't used to having conversations with Benson. It didn't settle comfortably with him; yet in a way, he felt like the more he tried, the easier it would be to talk to him. Benson shrugged and chuckled to himself. "What?" Mordecai asked.

"What-did that sound funny?" Benson peeked over at his mumbling employee. He wasn't like Muscleman, who cracked jokes about his mom every second of every day. And he wasn't anything like Rigby, who was always ecstatic and very forward with his opinions and feelings. He seemed a little more mature than the rest of his coworkers, except Skips of course, and he seemed like a pretty nice person overall. "It's nothing, Mordecai." He said.

Mordecai leaned back into the couch and watched his boss intently as he inspected his newly treated foot. Benson gently ran his finger over each of the thin stitches imbedded in his skin.

"Well," Benson said, snapping Mordecai out of his thoughts. "It's just another problem to deal with, I guess." Benson rested his foot gently back down onto the carpet and crossed his arms. "At least I didn't fall flat on my face, you know?" Benson chuckled softly at himself, and Mordecai weakly chuckled alongside him, feeling awkward as ever. Mordecai looked back at Benson, who looked as if he'd stayed up all night playing Dig Champs with no coffee whatsoever.

"Dude, you look really tired." Mordecai stated simply as Benson slowly turned toward him. "Yeah," he replied. "Side effects of the drugs, I guess."

"Maybe you should get some sleep."

"I would, but I still got tons of paperwork to…finish…"

"Dude, just sleep for now and do it in the morning."

"But…I've got to…"

Benson rubbed his face with his hands roughly in an effort to keep him awake, only to feel a feathered hand on his shoulder. "Dude, seriously. Take a break and get some rest, or you'll regret it in the morning."

"Okay, okay. I'll…alright, you go hit the hay too, I guess." Mordecai didn't need to be told twice. He stood up and yawned loudly. "With pleasure." Mordecai walked out of the room and stomped back up the stairs. Benson flung the pillow on top of the armrest of the sofa and lied down, craving the feeling of relaxation he got when he allowed his tired body to rest on the plush cushions of the couch. He was about to close his eyes when something moving on the Television screen caught his attention. He shot them open with anticipation and lifted his head to look toward the Television screen. There was a gaping grey/black hole swirling in the center of the TV, almost like a vortex.

Gee, Benson thought angrily, I wonder who could have done that? Before he could scream Mordecai and Rigby's names at the top of his lungs he stopped himself and thought about what he was seeing. A swirling whirlpool of black and grey upon a pitch-black TV screen late at night, in the dark, right after being injected with drugs and coming back from surgery from one of the most creepy places in the world. It could've been his imagination, or just a side effect from the drugs he was given. He sighed and dropped his head back onto the pillow, still watching the swirling thing in the TV. Yes, it was probably just the stupid drugs. He closed his eyes and shook his head, reminding himself to check if it was still there in the morning before he left to go purchase clothes from the mall...

X

X

"Why do you keep doing this, Kairo!" her foster-mom shouted at her from across the kitchen table. Her foster dad was still on that business trip, and Amelia was preoccupied concealing a sly grin by applying layers of hot pink lipstick and too much blush. Kairo slouched over the table as her mother continued yelling at her. "What is your problem with Amelia! Don't you see that she loves you and she's trying to connect with you!" Kairo looked back up at her foster-mom. God, how she hated this woman she was forced to call "mother". Wearing a navy blue business shirt and tie with matching jewelry and makeup, her hair pulled into a tight pony tail in the back of her head, she looked like a woman who meant business. Sadly, to Kairo's demise, she did. The woman's voice was hostile, destroying the barrier that Kairo had spent so much time constructing to avoid everything from spilling out of her like a dam with a huge hole in it.

"Oh, mother, she isn't listening!" Amelia said with a nasally, innocent voice as she marveled over herself in the pink little mirror. "I don't know how much longer I can put up with being neglected and … misunderstood," she wiped away an invisible tear and fluttered her luscious eyelashes to make it look like her eyes were growing watery. Kairo hated how she played with her mom's emotions, distorting them to make her feel bad for her, thus giving her whatever she wanted in the end. Her mom noticed this quickly, and let out her anger towards the quivering orphan child sitting across the table. "You see what you're doing! You're doing nothing but inflicting damage on your sister! Do you want to see her fall into depression for not being loved by someone who she's trying to connect with?"

Who she's trying to connect with? who she's trying to connect with? Kairo's thoughts ravenously thrashed at her conscience, blinding her, desperately wanting to be released into the air. But where would that get her? Amelia would retort with a venomous lie again, she could probably frame her for murder if she wanted too. Not that it mattered. Even if her foster-mother did believe her, Amelia would merely beg for her to understand it was out of depression or whatever the hell, and if that didn't work, she would lie to her, fill her head with false claims and facts that would finally make her fall into whatever her poor little daughter wanted. Kairo bit her bottom lip until the distinctive taste of blood made her cease, and her mother kept pressing the matter.

"Don't you think that your sister deserves a chance to be accepted? What do you have against her anyway? Huh? Is it because you're jealous?"

Kairo couldn't stand it. She couldn't stand how this happened every time.

"Is it because you think I love her more than I love you?"

Something bad was going to happen, Kairo could feel it welling up inside of her, clenching at her stomach and hovering overhead like a storm cloud. The horrible feeling of anticipation and fear swept over her like a wave, drowning her final judgment.

"Is it because she's my actual daughter? And you're JEALOUS because your parents are GONE?"

That was it. That was what made her lose all control. That was the final straw. She snapped.

"JEALOUS?" She screamed at the top of her lungs, causing her mother to flinch and step backward. Kairo stood up, tipping the chair over as she did so. "IF ONLY MY PARENTS COULD SEE HOW HORRIBLE OF A FOSTER MOTHER YOU ARE! I'VE NO REASON TO BE JEALOUS OF AMELIA! She's nothing but a monster! If you knew what went on when you weren't around, you'd understand, but YOU'RE NOT! So how would YOU know?" And with those sharp words still piercing the very atmosphere of the dining room, Kairo flipped around and punched the kitchen wall so hard the thin skin on her knuckles tore open. She ran up the stairs, punching several more holes in the wall as she did so, before bursting through the door and slamming it as hard as she could, producing a deafening echo through the house.

Still enraged by her foster mother's words, locked the door and hit the wood of the door aggressively until she couldn't feel her hands. The words still lingered in the air of the attic, which grew heavy and hard to breathe in. And you are jealous because your parents are gone? Kairo knew what Amelia was planning to do that night. She would sneak the attic key from her mother's bedroom and creep in to dump all of the empty beer bottles and sleeping pill bottles next to her bed, as she did every time there was evidence that needed to be rid of. Kairo yanked the sheet off of the furniture, ignoring the small amount of dust that helped itself into her lungs, and out of sheer rage she tore the paper-thin sheet in half. She dragged the remnants of the old furniture over and barricaded the attic door the best she could. But no matter how much crumbling old furniture she put in front of the door, she still felt like Amelia would get to her.

It felt like she was being played with; one moment you were safe, the next you're life was in danger. Back and forth, back and forth, before you finally tell yourself that nowhere will ever be safe. Kairo slugged the attic wall a few times more before finally allowing herself to crumple onto her bed and scream into the pillow, smearing her tears against the rough texture of the pillow sheet until her face was raw.

It wasn't until she woke up from a restless sleep did she realize how much her knuckles hurt. After a few minutes of inspection, she noted that they were bloody and sore, and it didn't surprise her much if she'd broken both of her hands. She doubted it, though. Kairo looked up at the ceiling with red, sore eyes. She didn't want to have to put up with this sick excuse of a life for much longer. She just wanted to be somewhere else- anywhere else! She would rather pick the orphanage and nearly starve there rather than be well-fed under the same roof as Amelia. Kairos' thoughts of self-pity lulled her into yet another restless nightmare, and Kairo completely forgot about the swirling vortex still dancing on the screen of the old television.