Hi guys, i'm here with another chapter! please review, it doesn't take long~ :)c
"Mordecai, Rigby, please pay attention; I've got an announcement," Pops said, sounding rather serious which was a big change in how he usually acted. Immediately, everyone quieted down.
They were all sitting down on the house stairs. Usually they met there in the mornings and Benson would assigns them their jobs for the day, but when he hadn't shown up, they'd all started chatting. "Maybe he's still sleeping," Fives had suggested.
"Or maybe he quit," Muscle man joked, but Skips worried that might have been the case. It wouldn't surprise him after the select bit of conversation he had heard last night.
Pops clapped his hands, "As you already realized, Benson is not here. He is taking a personal leave for a while to sort some things out."
"Personal leave? What does Benson have to sort out?" Rigby chuckled.
"Dude don't say that, what if, like, his dad died or something," Mordecai nudged him.
"For now I'll be giving you your jobs. Please proceed like usual," Pops said as he began to tell every park member what they would be doing for the day. Mordecai and Rigby leaned into a whisper and Skips wondered what they were talking about. He sincerely hoped that they weren't planning on something stupid or reckless, especially considering Benson wasn't around to tell them to get back to work or they'd be fired.
"You two better do your work today," Skips said.
"Oh, relax, dude," Mordecai said. "We'll get it done."
"Yeah, Skips. Chill out," Rigby scoffed.
Although they said that, Skips knew he would have to keep a close eye on them. There was never any telling what Mordecai and Rigby would do; what shenanigans they would get themselves into when they were alone. It would be best for everyone if he kept watch over them.
.000.
Benson stared at the ceiling in his bedroom. He'd been awake for nearly an hour, but he hadn't moved from his bed. He had pulled the blankets off at one point, but after had just laid like a starfish, letting out a sigh every now and then. He was tired. He was tired of everything.
Sometimes he would wonder to himself, what would happen if he died. He would have a small funeral. People that didn't care about him might show up and pretend they were the closest of friends. They might shed fake tears and try to make people feel bad for them while he was the one lying in the coffin. He thought that was almost reason enough never to think about it again, but he still did.
He didn't know what happened to people when they died. He didn't want to know, because if he did he might never want to die.
Benson didn't really mind not knowing things, contrary to popular belief. He wanted to know what Mordecai and Rigby were up to and if muscle man had stopped pranking Thomas, but he didn't really want to know much else. It was okay to be curious. Trying to come up with all the amazing answers to his questions was sometimes what he used to calm himself down amidst an anger breakdown.
His alarm clock went off and he knew. He knew that he needed to get up now. He let out a load groan and pushed himself into sitting position, pressing the snooze button before turning off the alarm. He got off the bed, looking around his bedroom. It was clean, organized just how he liked it to be.
He turned around and headed into the bathroom to take a shower and brush his teeth before he headed out. Out to another therapist. His sister had recommended this man to her and he thought it couldn't hurt to give it one more shot. But that was it. That was truly the last shot.
His sister used to tell him he wasn't going to get any better if he didn't think he was, but he would always just nod and say, "Maybe." She often said nothing after that.
After showering and getting dressed, he walked into the kitchen, cleaning his glasses and taking a bite of a granola bar. It was all he really had time for. Then, he brushed and flossed his teeth like every other morning. Every morning was the same.
He checked his voicemail. One new message. It was probably from his mom or something, he thought as he listened. "Hey, Benson, it's Audrey. I was just calling to see if you were still attending my party tonight. If not it's okay. I know you're going through some things. If you'd like, we can talk about it."
Benson sighed when the message finished. Of course he'd like to talk it all out, but it wasn't that easy, especially when Benson didn't even know what was wrong. So many bizarre things happened at the park, though, that he wouldn't be surprised if this sudden depression was because of some weird spell or because he'd done something wrong. Or Mordecai and Rigby. They seemed to be the cause of everything that went wrong around the park.
He couldn't blame them this time, though. He knew this was his own problem.
When he left the apartment, he climbed into his old car and turned on the engine. For a moment, he just stared out the window onto the road. So many people drove by, going to work, picking up groceries, driving their kids to school, he thought about how much he'd missed out.
Why couldn't he feel happy and content and be married and have a kid or two. He always dreamed he'd be one of those dads who would take their kid out and play baseball in the summer while his wife set up the picnic and then called them over. But he was older now and he thought it was probably too late for him. Although he was only thirty-five, he always had dark circles under his eyes and his moves were sluggish.
Often during his breaks he would sneak into Skips' and take naps on his couch, but it never really helped. It never helped because he told himself it wouldn't. He told himself it wouldn't because he was tired. He was tired of everything.
"I can't believe no one has murdered me yet," he mumbled, lighting a cigarette before driving off. He was annoying and he complained too much. He got mad too often and yelled at everyone so why was it that people still stood by him? He didn't know.
As he exhaled and the puff of smoke vanished around him, he turned a left and down a long street. He passed the park and for a moment, he glanced inside. He saw Pops with his sketchbook, drawing one of the flowers and Muscle man and Fives driving the cart back to the garage, but he didn't see Rigby or Mordecai. He thought that was for the best. If he saw them and they weren't doing their jobs, he might have to turn the car around and go inside just to yell at them.
He didn't want to start the day like that.