XD Anyway, as for this story. I actually had half of the first part written, and then I decided it wasn't sad enough. I woke up the next day and was like- 'this part needs to be more miserable' so I rewrote all of what I'd already had.
Then I repeated the same thing in my head all throughout the chapter.
Also- I don't usually make titles that special-looking. But this story demanded special treatment.
What with, y'know.... All the AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANGST.
This chapter made me insanely depressed to even write. Had to keep pep-talking myself. XD
Also- some things might sound odd. Originally there was more italic. But it didn't copy-paste over to the forum properly. And I didn't have time to fix it as much as I wanted.
Anyway. So- sad, overly dramatic story a- GO.
STORY: The GIVE IN Saga
FANDOM: Fairly Odd Parents. Credit to Butch Hartman
RATING: PG13-to-R. Probably. For horrible angst and suicidal characters. Though there's nothing graphic in this particular chapter.
A Fairly Odd Parents mini-series
Part 1 of 5
"Did I have a brother?"
Jorgen's hand froze mid-writing. His brain suddenly filled with fantasies of snapping the boy's neck and throwing the head against an adjacent wall.
"..... No, you did not." And he stopped there. He wasn't going to humor him. Especially not this time, concerning that subject matter.
"Are you sure?"
Jorgen sighed angrily. This boy would get them both killed one of these days. "Yes, you were the only child born in nearly thirty-thousand years. There were no others before nor after."
"Who was the one before me then?"
"Your father." He'd already said too much. Jorgen resigned himself to ignore any more prodding and went back to signing the documents before him in silence.
Poof didn't say any more though. He'd known for years that when the subject hit his parents, there was nothing more to say. He'd already been told the story and been reminded of it countless times.
"Is there something wrong, Jorgen?" The giant man didn't move his head. He could somehow distinguish HP's monotone.
"The child is misbehaving." It was the only safe thing to say. And he didn't stop his writing. When the page he was on was finished, he just smoothed it aside for the one underneath.
Poof was always 'The child'. Obviously, being the only one in all of Corporation World.
HP hovered up next to them. "Have you been misbehaving, Poof?"
The boy kept his head down. Smoothing the wrinkles from his suit pants. "I was just asking a question."
"And what sort of question were you asking?" It didn't seem possible that such a empty voice could have such recognizable anger in it.
"I.... uhm." He looked up at Jorgen for some sort of help. But the massive man refused to even acknowledge they were there. "I.... just... wanted to know... if I had siblings-"
"And why would you possibly think such a thing?"
Poof returned his gaze to the floor, lowering closer to the ground as if trying to escape the situation. "I don't know."
"You have to stop being so careless."HP lectured dully. "Just think now. Some day you will have an acceptable job behind one of these desks." He gestured out to Jorgen and the rest of the room. All full of Fairies in their matching suits, heads down. Stamping and signing a constant stream of papers. "How will you be able to perform averagely if you're having such fantastic ideas?"
"I'm sorry." Poof really was. He wished he'd never taken the chance to ask such a question. Jorgen didn't usually satisfy his curiosities anyway. And he should've known HP wouldn't stray far enough away from him to allow a full conversation could there be one.
"Do I have to remind you, child. Of the atrocities that your family committed against us all?"
Poof quickly shook his head. "No."
HP set a cold hand on his shoulder. "You may still come to understand this one day. Come now. We've had quite enough of a field trip for today. Back to your Algebra lesson."
"Yes sir." He meeped out. Allowing him to be led out of the office spaces and down the hall.
Jorgen glanced in their direction. Throat tied up in knots. Visualizing so easily himself just reaching over and tearing the Head Pixie into pieces.
Then he put his head down and went back to his paperwork.
Poof was roomed with a quiet and fairly mild Fairy woman. Who seldom addressed Poof directly, but nonetheless she had been charged with preparing him for his day and any other looking-after that was required while Poof was in the dormitory areas.
Poof assumed she'd taken the job to be able to be out of working duties whenever he was in need of care. Since she definitely didn't take any interest in him otherwise. She tended to slack off in the evenings too. After Poof was done with his classes and Sanderson dropped him off. So at the night time Poof was free to fiddle with whatever he cared. Just so long as he stayed inside the room and was asleep in time to be up the next day at an appropriate time.
The lady- Gloween. Was covered in blankets on her cot. Taking to an early sleep as she usually did. So Poof just sat at the lunch table in the far corner of the room, procrastinating getting his pajamas on.
All the clothes given to him were horribly itchy. Especially the full-body beige nightsuit he was supposed to sleep in. Hence his lack of desire to go to sleep. The only thing that wasn't itchy was the bulky, bright red safety jacket he needed to wear during 'exercising'. And even that was impossible to move about in or function for more then ten minutes without overheating. Thick with all the padding that it was.
Poof didn't feel like doing anything at the moment. Anything deemed 'appropriate' anyway. Poof hovered over to his bed, trying to quietly lift the mattress.
HP always gave Poof an extra sheet of paper, meant to allow him to write out extra notes concerning his homework on. But at an early age, Poof had started keeping them, and had taken to explaining that 'Excessive discussion wasn't necessary'. Which was probably the most approved-of thing Poof had ever said in his life.
Under his mattress was a collection of pictures he'd scribbled down in the lonely hours at night. He had to periodically discard some, so that his mattress wasn't bursting with them. There were, afterall, weekly room checks. When he'd have to hide them under his shirt.
The only writing material that even existed for him was a blue ballpoint pen. So all the pictures were in the same navy shade. But he himself could remember the colors that they were supposed to be.
He combed through them. Not having the motivation to actually draw anything. Wanting only to find his favorite one.
He always hid it perfectly in the middle. So that if the pages were ever discovered, it wouldn't possibly be seen. He found it eventually and set the rest aside.
It was the same as all the others, just navy lines scratched along the page. This one just featured some stick figures, as opposed to the flowers and scenery he tended to draw when lonely. This picture was special in that way. Instead of being drawn to escape some loneliness, it had seemed to ease it.
It wasn't detailed at all. Just more-or-less the outlines of what he envisioned in his head. Three people and an animal, characters that he'd seen in his dreams.
A fearful shiver ran down his spine. His eyes ended up falling on the full-body mirror at the head of the room. HP had put it there after a certain 'wrinkle' incident. So Poof could always be sure that he was 'presentable.'
He'd discarded his shirts and jacket the moment Gloween had turned over in her bed. He couldn't stand the feeling. But in the mirror he could now see the black, permanent scars all down the right side of his body.
"Your parents were very horrible people, child." HP affirmed again after his detailed recollection of the events.
Poof sat curled up in his seat. Weeping non-stop. Sanderson was seated next to him, resetting his arm brace yet again.
"Your father was a monster wrought with mental instability. With your distainful mother enabling him their whole lives. Neither one was prepared for a child, and they mistreated you atrociously. I did all I could, but for a year I watched you- another victim of the former ways- being corrupted beyond anyone's imagination."
Poof continued his sobbing. Letting out a yelp once when Sanderson had to tighten the casting.
The scarring covored the entirety of the right side of his back. Going up his shoulder and down his arm. Until just last year he had needed binding on his arm to keep it safe and steady. He still was very weak with it. The perpetually damaged tissue of his body would make him feeble for the rest of his life. Not that he was expected to do anything especially strenuous either way.
During the 'Shift Change'- The day that HP and the Pixies became the dominating power. His father had gone on a rampage with the other traitorous Fairies, killing his mother and nearly him in the process. But HP and the Pixies were able to subdue him and have him locked away deep within a prison made for the people who had opposed the Pixies new position.
Poof didn't understand how he could remember them if he was a baby at the time. But apparently he did, or at least appeared to. He really had no sure idea who the people in the picture were. And certainly not the third person. If he didn't have a brother, then maybe they weren't his family at all.
Which would make sense, since-
Poof looked over to Gloween. She was stiff as a log. But Poof was restless now with a very bad idea.
A very 'inappropriate' idea. But he had to know. Maybe if he knew, the possibilities would stop swirling in his head. He could move on from it and stop being such a huge nuisance to everyone.
He folded the picture with shaking hands. His body begging him not to do this. Then slipped the piece into his pocket. He took an undershirt to wear and then went to his closet for a jacket.
He wouldn't be able to stand all the stress if he wore one of his itchy jackets. He grabbed for his safety jacket but then paused. It was so bright, he might be seen. But all he wanted was to be quick- Though then he couldn't move very well in it at all.
He inspected the jacket, getting another inappropriate idea- He zipped to his schoolbag and took out the ballpoint pen.
Digging into the jacket, he periodically looked up to survey Gloween. She never moved. He continued stabbing at the jacket and tearing the padding from the inside. He could live with being in huge trouble just once more. It would be the last time, no matter what happened. If he could just get to his destination.
When he was done he pulled the tattered jacket on. Checking on Gloween one more time. Even her breathing was shallow. She wouldn't be up before he got back. As long as no one saw him leaving, he would be alright.
He went to the window of his room. The town was nothing but sharp, beige edges. He remembered lots of construction, when he was younger. To get it to look like that. But he couldn't quite remember what it was like before that.
He slipped out the window and floated along the corners of buildings. He was sure he could remember the direction of the building. He wasn't sure if he could get inside- but he knew that he had to do this one thing if he was ever going to settle the visions in his head.
It didn't occur to him to close the window behind him. He wanted to be quiet as possible.
After a few minutes, Gloween turned around. To be sure of what she'd heard. She then robotically got up and closed the window herself. Locking it.
She then took the phone out of her robe pocket. Dialing the only number it was set to call. It picked up after the first ring.
"Thank you, Gloween. It will certainly be taken care of." Sanderson said into the phone. The woman on the other end then promptly hung up on him. He turned to HP who sat stonily at his desk. "He's left. He's wearing a vandalized safety jacket. And she believes he's going to the jail."
"Does she think he knows?"
"She has no opinion. But he took one of his drawings with him."
"He is probably just curious... But nevertheless. I'm afraid this has been a bad decision on my part." HP nodded to himself. "I thought that it might work out on it's own. But it would seem there's no changing some types." He then gestured to Sanderson. "Shut it down."
"All of it, sir?"
"No, just the child."
---~Corporation's Prison for the Unseemly
The graveyard shift had already settled at the workstations, which may have been why there were so few people out. The only time anyone was seen outside was when they were leaving or going to their workplace.
The prison was unguarded. And Poof was only surprised by this when he'd made it inside. Where even the reception desk was manned by no one but a single disinterested looking Pixie. Though disinterested was their default facial expression, Poof still tried to stay out of sight.
Poof had never been inside such a place before, otherwise he might've noticed that it looked more like a hospital than any sort of prison area.
He sat in front of the desk, just out of the receptionist's eye range. Not that they ever looked up-
He wondered if he could look into the records for a hint to where he wanted to go- but knew that he didn't know his own true last name. And unless there were pictures, he wouldn't even have a chance. He didn't want to risk it if he wasn't sure.
Then again, he couldn't be sure about any of this-
Poof jumped at the sound and then skidded around the other end of the desk. A large, grungy Fairy had stumbled out into the reception room.
He hid just out of eyesight while the receptionist wordlessly got up and turned the man around, sending his blind stagger back into the direction he'd just came.
With both of them turned away, Poof felt safe popping up and watching after them. There were more people, wandering around lethargicly just down the hall. All of them Fairies dressed in white.
Poof sat just behind the desk, and when the Pixie turned to get behind it again, he zipped past him as quietly as possible.
After what he'd just seen, he found it was alright for him to just float amongst the others. Keeping his eye out for Pixies. None of the zombie-like Fairies turned to address them. So far it was the same reaction he'd get when walking through an office space. If someone looked at him, they made no reaction.
Looking around every corner constantly, he saw no other Pixie. He still felt uneasy, though. Possibly from just watching all the Fairies stagger about on their feet. It seemed unnatural.
He tried to shake it off and start searching, he really hadn't thought anything through. He just wanted to get here and see. See for himself. Have some sort of new bit of information about himself he didn't have before.
Truthfully just to find out who the third person in his dreams were. And if the ones with him were even his parents. A piece of the puzzle was missing and he wanted to have the tiniest hint of what it even was so that he could stop wreaking his brain about it.
After all the accounts that had been told- by HP, Jorgen, Fairies whispering in the dorms. Some part was wrong. One reason he'd always went to Jorgen was that he'd known his parents. From what he understood- Jorgen had been on the rebelling side during the 'Shift Change'. But had eventually come to the Pixies side as a loyal co-worker.
But there was still something different about him, different than all the other Fairies, who just wandered about robotically like the strange Fairies in the prison were. Most of all, he made him feel safe. Just because he was different than HP, and still somehow different from all the other Fairies.
Poof was always supposed to be safe. And he didn't feel safe with HP. Or anyone else. HP was the one who had told him his whole life that the only jobs as a child were to learn the right things, listen to adults, and to be safe. But Poof only felt safe when hiding behind Jorgen's desk, or when wrapped up in the dreams he didn't ever understand.
And in knowing that, came a sinking realization- that he shouldn't be here. He should be in bed, waiting until morning so then he could get through another day. This was silly. It was unsafe. Inappropriate, he shouldn't have ever come here at all.
He knew what his life was going to be. The same as everyone else's. Forever like this would be what it always would be. And it wasn't bad. If he could teach himself to enjoy his work, maybe. Although no one else had ever seemed to. If the Pixies even did, they didn't very well act like it.
And no matter what the missing puzzle piece was, he already had the one with his future on it, and the one with the scars all over his back. Maybe it was his own fault, letting these things get ahold of him. Not like any of it mattered any more.
As he talked himself out of it, his heart stopped feeling so shaken and raw. Things started to dull for him. It didn't matter anymore. Nothing about it mattered, really.
Poof looked up, finally. He'd ended up in a recreational room. Or at least it seemed to be one. There weren't many recreational tools around. Just a large pool of Fairies lying about.
He started towards a window, planning to sneak back around the buildings and back into his room. Shrug on the itchy pajamas and try to sleep. He didn't care anymore, not if it meant he'd lose his safety. Sanity. He was even ready to burn the rest of his drawings, if that was what he actually needed to do to just stop thinking about everything.
He remembered the one he'd slipped into his pocket. The one that had been most important. He took it out and looked at it, still folded up.
It was the one thing that he was still conflicted about at that point, but he knew he had to start getting over himself. He was five, after all. About time to grow up. Fit into society and start acting normal.
There was a trashcan close enough by. He stretched his arm out and flicked it in.
And there was a wall just about a foot away. It didn't look locked, he could just float on out-
But something had caught his eye. He almost didn't want to give it a second glance. But the sight was suddenly all too familiar. A bright flash of lime green hair.
He'd would just go over there- he told himself desperately- just a quick look-
He zipped himself over faster than he thought he would. The second he reached there, he was grabbed from behind. But he'd saw enough. The man had looked up and Poof had seen his face.
The man made no expression. He had the same sad, disoriented stare as the rest of the Fairies in the prison. But it was the same face- The exact one from his dreams- his drawing- Poof was too shocked to be able to form any sort of thought.
He was about to scramble to think of something. But then became all too aware of the hands pulling him away. He spun around in a panic. "I'm sorry-"
He stopped himself. There wasn't a guard or a Pixie behind him. It was a Fairy. One of the inmates dressed in white. This one with a more descriptive, curious expression.
Poof was confused- he knew he needed to make a beeline for a window or something- but he found himself only turning around again. To be sure that that person was still behind him.
He was, and now with a Pixie. Sanderson to be exact- He was lifting him from the chair and saying something hushed to him. Poof couldn't hear.
"Sanderson? I- I-I-I- I'm sorry- I just-"
He had started walking away, with the man in tow. But the man kept looking at him as they were pulled away from eachother. Some sort of light flashing behind his eyes.
He'd saw him. He'd finally met him. The same man he'd seen in his dreams nearly every night his entire life.
He didn't get to ask any of the questions he'd had, but somehow he couldn't think of one he needed answered now. His heart was raw and aching and confused again, but it was full of a sort of truth. Even if Poof didn't have time to ever know what it was.
Even when he was completely surrounded by inmates, and the chair was about to come down on his head. He knew that he would die content now.
---~The Next Day
Jorgen didn't have the strength of mind to go down that street just yet. If he was seen, he could be next.
He knew it was going to happen some day. That boy was too much like his parents. Too honest. He wouldn't have made it in the Corporation World.
HP seemed to have made certain that Jorgen was one of the first to know. Offering him the overtime job of cleaning out the boys room.
It unnerved him, finding those drawings under his mattress. But mostly just the one. Weither the boy knew it or not, one picture had been of Fairy World. The way that it used to be.
Jorgen preferred to believe that the boy was completely unaware. Then he'd tossed it into the trash. Not wanting to be caught with it.
Now he just stood at the edge of a street. At the end of which stood a prison. Full of perpetually drugged Fairies the Pixies had deemed 'Improper for their new society'
Jorgen couldn't stay any longer. His shift started in five minutes. And there were penalties if he was late.
He heaved a hard, unsteady breath. And turned away from the street.
"I'm sorry, Cosmo."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.~Part 1: Poof: APOLIgIES: End~.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
~Next part: Cosmo: iN THIS CELL~