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Smurfing an Escape

An aching pain ran up my spine at the sound of the guest stepping into Smurfette's shroom. The pain was intensive enough to make me set down the towel in order to grab a chair to sit myself down. I could no longer stand. It were pains like these that would bring me to avoid Vexy.

"Grouchy!"

I never knew I could wrinkle my face in such a way that I looked to Smurfette. She instantly dropped her head, her easily affected emotions making her guiltily continue airing out the shroom. Vexy decided to take a seat next to me, unaware of how long it had been since we last saw each other. Unaware that the reason for that was purposely based on my want to avoid her.

I knew I should have stayed loyal to myself by asking for no one's help. I wouldn't let Smurfette persuade me so easily next time. And just as this day was becoming grey, Hefty decided to join in for this unknown party, making my entire day turn black. I watched Smurfette answer the door to receive a hug from Hefty, a hug that lasted much too long for my taste.

Not to mention that I had just shrugged off a concern look from Vexy toward me. Surprising, how she could tell something was quiet not right, even through my typical unappreciative features. Hefty had finally let Smurfette away from his prison he called a hug in order to let her step into the kitchen.

I mumbled at the realization that she had reached for a spoon, "Oh, smurf,"

"What is it?" Vexy's voice, a voice of an undiscovered plague, shot at me. She infected me once again.

Hefty exaggerated, "Smurfette, I can't wait to taste what delicious food you'll make!"

"Oh, Hefty! You're so smurfy! You'll get the biggest serving!"

Something about his now slumped posture made me feel a bit relieved from Vexy's intoxicating stare. I could swear that I was sure we were looking at each other, eyes locked, and although I showed the least bit of enthusiasm, a small smile on her lips made it known that she was enjoying it. That's all it took for me to push away from the table, rise up from the chair, and stomp out, the best that I could with an aching spine, of Smurfette's shroom. I made sure to slam the door behind me.

Hefty, as always, came running out after me.

"Grouchy, don't go!"

"So that I can torture myself with her concoction you call food?"

He stepped back. He was clearly wondering whether or not that was the reason for my loud exit.

"Smurfette thinks she can do things that she can't do,"

I began to become angry. Anger filled me to the top, overflowing out the only hole in my face, and that's what made me the sourest I had been since that night in the woods.

"She thinks she can cook, but she burns water! She thinks she can bake, but she almost set her shroom on fire!"

At the end of my breath, Smurfette and Vexy stepped out to witness my rage.

"And the worst thing she thinks she can do is help!" I pulled off my hat, furious at myself for believing I could trust Smurfette with the smurfiest of my feelings, "Because she can't! All she does is make things worse!"

Hefty may have been the strongest smurf I ever knew, but he had a terrible weakness when it came to the sound of Smurfette crying.

He gave a quick glance over his shoulder to see Smurfette covering her face, "Now I know you can't help but be unhappy all the time,"

If only he had known that this whole time, until this dreadful day, I know that not a day passed with me feeling unhappy.

"And you can't help but take out your grouchiness on those who only want to make it better, make it right for you,"

No, everything was going wrong. Everything was becoming worse. Far worse. I didn't want to wake up with the want to see her, to talk to her, and to think of her. She was definitely a plague that infected every part of me. I needed a cure. I couldn't go on everyday not knowing what a grouchy feeling truly felt like anymore.

"But not everything can be fixed in one day, not every ounce of pain can be forgotten in one night,"

But it can. I could forget it all. Papa could help me. He may be the only one who could help me and make things right.

"You need to stop thinking that what you're feeling can be let out by being the grouch that you are! Papa says that despite your will to frown, your will to snap at all the other smurfs, he believes that deep down, you're just as smurfy as all the rest of us...,"

Papa is wrong. I don't like this! I don't want to be like Hefty, like Smurfette—I want to be me! And Vexy is threatening that—interfering with my true self!

"You're just as happy."

The look on his face made me want to run away and never look back. I would rather go to the outskirts of the village than realize that Hefty knew I was feeling that smurfy feeling! I was a smurf all on my own. I am Grouchy Smurf. Not Happy Smurf. I need to be me. I need to be grouchy. And if Papa can't help me, then I'll go to a wizard who can.