Losing

A short oneshot taking place during In His Shoes (the Skrawl 100 theme story), told from Scarlett's point of view.






Oh Skrawl... Why did it have to come to this?

I lay down on my bed, my arms folded over my head and staring up the ceiling. I wasn’t sure how long I had been here, or how long I had been crying. I was aware of my nose being stuffy, forcing me to use my mouth to breathe.

Skrawl was constantly on my mind. I couldn’t get him out of my head. My mind swirled with many thoughts as I went over what had happened between us.

I know it wasn’t that good, shutting him away like I had. I just...needed time to think. How could anyone expect me to just bounce back from something like this? It was just wasn’t possible. Anyone in my shoes would know what I am feeling, and why I couldn’t let this go. After all, I couldn’t just dismiss the death of my grandfather.

I remember how angry I had gotten at Skrawl for what happened. I couldn’t believe that, all this time, my grandfather had been dead. No one told me about what happened. He never spoke a word. All this time, I, and any one else who had known him, believed he was just on break. He always so grumpy. We just assumed that he had left to find another place to call home.

To think, after all this, it had been Skrawl all along.

He had been the one to hurt my grandfather.

He had thrown the man off a cliff.

And for what? Just annoying him, I suppose.

I couldn’t believe that the person I had been spending so much time with turned out to be a heartless criminal. I could feel my heart ache and twist as I thought about that vile zoner and what he had done to me. I didn’t care to speak to him, despite knowing how not talking would make things worse. I just..didn’t care.

But...I have to admit, it was kind of nice of him to keep trying to apologize. He hadn’t given up completely. From what little I see of him now from a distance, it really did seem like he was sorry.

Of course, sorry was not going to bring back my grandpa. It was not going to undo the damage that he had caused. It wasn’t going to make my grandfather rise from the gave and greet me. Skrawl could say he was sorry until he was blue in the fact. It was not going to change anything that happened.

I wanted to hate him. I hated to despise his guts. I wanted to march over to his place and have his monstrous form dragged out and locked away. He belonged in prison along with the rest of the scum. He didn’t deserve freedom. He had crossed the line, and now he was going to have to pay for his actions.

And yet... I just..I just couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to call the police on him. I did tell them about my grandfather’s body. But I did nothing to tell them about Skrawl’s involvement. I’m not sure yet. Just...something was preventing me from telling them, allowing Skrawl to continue moving around like a free man. Perhaps, on some level, I believed that him knowing what he did and living with the guilt was good enough punishment for him. Even if a part of me was screaming otherwise.

Perhaps I was feeling sorry for him.

Me? Feel sorry for him? The murderer? Yeah, right...

But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. It would certainly explain why I hadn’t reported him to anyone, even after finding out the truth. Perhaps, on some level, I did still care about him.

Rising up from my bitter recent memories of him, the nicer, more joyous memories came to me. The ones of when he and I were the best of friends, and often visited each other, despite the long distance. I remembered the things I did for him, and what he had done for me. Heck, he had even nearly worked himself to death trying to help me recover. That...has to be worth something, right...?

Slowly, my mouth ticked into a smile, and I let out a small chuckle. Yeah, those were some pretty fun times. The park, the party, the movies, the diners. I remembered them quite fondly. Skrawl had never seemed like a vicious monster then. And he did seem awfully genuine when he told me about how he didn’t want to go down the ‘path of darkness’, as he put it once.

Some level of bitterness returned and I frowned. Well he already went down that path before, when he murdered my grandfather.

But...I had to ask myself... How did this all look from Skrawl’s point of view? What was his view of the world like? How did he percieve everything?

I was well aware of the scar on his head, hidden underneath his purple hair. He was often embarrassed about it, to the point where he almost never let me see it. It was a reminder of what happened to him before. I remembered what he had told me, about before he had met me.

He had worked in a bakery before, and he had been doing well for himself. Despite his unusual ‘birth’, as I would like to call it, he was still able to find himself a life here in ChalkZone. He had a working job, some friends, everything had panned out for him. And for a while, things were looking up for the guy.

But all that changed on that fateful day, when he had apparently fallen into the batter and nearly choked to death. His brain had been partially damaged and some of it needed to be removed. Such a delicate surgery... Losing thirty-three percent of the brain had repurcussions. It would with anyone. It was little wonder that Skrawl’s behavior had been altered after that. It got to the point where he lost the job and any friend he had made then.

I thought about that long and hard. I let it sink in. Realization began to crawl through the back of my spine, leaving a bit of a cold chill.

Skrawl’s behavior was partially linked to this accident. True, he was already bitter at how he was created. But before the accident, he wasn’t too bad with it. Anger and bitter, but he was still able to find happiness, even if it was short-lived.

But the accident itself had changed all that. Skrawl was struggling with himself day in and day out. He was suffering from nightmares. He was struggling to keep himself under control. Heck, I remember when he nearly tried to attack a few people, and I know it was linked to that brain damage. Skrawl was not able to control himself as much as he could before. The brain damage was making all of that too difficult for him.

I could only just imagine what he must be going through right now. He must feel horrible about what he had done. He was probably laying there in his favorite chair, replaying the incident over and over in his mind, wondering what he could do different. He...had always been quite the thinker.

I frowned softly, licking my lips slowly. I started to wonder just how much control Skrawl really had over himself. How far could he hold himself back before he wasn’t able anymore? How much longer could he keep this up before something else happened? My grandfather had been first. Who else would Skrawl end up killing if he didn’t get this under control?

I knew that, sooner or later, something would have to be done. At least some action had been taken when he and I went to those therapy sessions. But I have to wonder, is it enough? Could something more be done?

I wasn’t sure, but I recall someone mentioning something about a more advanced psychotheraphy course. Something about a new type of medication on the market. Maybe that would work? I glanced over at my computer. It wouldn’t hurt to try to look it up. It just might be what we needed to stop his outbursts and prevent future murders.

Sure, it would be easier to just kill him or send him to jail. But...a part of me still wanted to give him some kind of chance. Perhaps I should try to see him again, and try to mend at least part of our relationship. Despite my anger at him, I admit...I did sort of..miss him.

Well I could think more on that later. Right now, I needed to get to sleep. By tomorrow, I would have made up my mind. Then I could go speak with Skrawl.

I closed my eyes and went to sleep.

sss

Well time sure does fly. It had been a little while since I had contacted Skrawl again. It did feel like forever since we last chatted. It would probably take to counting more fingers than what I had on my hand in order to probably number all the days that passed.

But despite all that time, it didn’t feel like our chemistry had changed much. Yes, our interactions were a little more...awkward. That improved a little over time. We got caught up with one another, and made our emotions rather clear to each other. He did apologize again for what he did and...well okay, I didn’t forgive him yet. But maybe in time, I would.

I told myself I was willing to try to give him another chance. I had to remember what he had been through. I had to remind myself that he was brain damaged and had less control of himself than he had at the time of his creation. Even if I couldn’t bring myself to like him as much as I had before, even if I found myself hating him... I could at least try to help. It was the least I could do.

I had done some research on that place. It seemed like it was the best option. Long, more intensive therapy classes than our own psychologist. More hands on, face to face interactions. Better medications. It just seemed like the perfect place for Skrawl to go to get help. Maybe, just maybe...they would be the ones to help ‘cure’ him, of sorts, of this behavior of his. Maybe they could help him lead life without fear of blowing up in anyone’s faces.

But there was a bit of a problem.

I don’t think Skrawl would go. At least..not willingly.

It was frustrating, but I knew Skrawl well enough to know how he’d respond. It was hard enough with the regular therapist. How would he react to a more intensive therapist? Would he snap at me and strike me with his claws? I shuddered when I looked at them, wondering for a moment if I would end up like my grandfather.

I pushed those thoughts aside the best I could. I took in a deep breath and did my best to remind myself of the plan. I know Skrawl was going to yell at me for it. But.. I think he would come to thank me later, after the sessions get started and we start seeing some real results.

I had told Skrawl about wanting to go to this one place. I forget what I said. Movie? Diner? Whatever. It didn’t matter. So long as I could keep myself behind him, it should be good.

I paused for a moment. Was I doing the right thing? Was what I was doing wrong? Was there another way to go about this? I wondered just how badly this might all backfire against me. I wondered if there was another path I could have taken with this. But in the end, I narrowed my eyes and pressed on. This was for the best. He’d refuse help otherwise.

As he went on ahead, I got in behind him. I moved slowly, careful not to make a sound. I pulled out the tranquilizer gun I had taken. I would deal with the consequences of that later. Right now, I focused on aiming it. If I could just get it aimed at the neck, I might be able to knock him out.

I hesitated for a few seconds, feeling sweat move down my face and hands. I had never done something like this before. A part of me was tempted to just shoot him in the head and kill him. The other was driving me to aim for the neck and knock him unconscious while I got him help. These thoughts raged war in my skull and I got a pounding headache from it. I soon shook my head and proceeded to pull the trigger.

My eyes bulged in horror. I stared at the gun as the trigger had been pulled. My heart clenched, a burning sensation moving through my stomach. A horrifying realization shot through me.

This wasn’t the tranquilizer gun.

Skrawl... Oh no...

I was helpless to stop my finger from finishing pulling the trigger. I had realized my mistake too late. I could only watch in utter horror. Despite time going so slowly, there was no time left for me to warn him.

I was suddenly aware of a mass hitting against me. I vaguely could make out that Beanie Boy. I grunted as I hit the ground. The bullet had already fired, its angle altered. I could not see where it hit Skrawl, but I could smell the blood and hear the thud as he had fallen down. I tried to see just how bad off he was, but horrible pain shot through my side, and I realized I had been cut deeply.

I could hear the Beanie Boy yelling at me. But I could not respond. All I could do was drop down on the ground, collapsing from the rapid loss of blood.

sss

It would seem that, despite losing so much blood, my wound wasn’t that bad. It was all stitched up now, and I had some strong pain medications. It helped to dull the experience I was in. It would seem that, after that horrific incident, it just didn’t stop there.

Not long after I had last seen Skrawl and got an update on his condition, some police had stopped by and told me I was under arrest. I had tried to resist and tell them what actually happened. But...they had found the footage, and they already had an idea of went went down. At that point, it didn’t matter how much I explained, the evidence was still there. A picture was worth a thousand words, right?

Well, they were right to arrest me. Even if it hadn’t been my intention, I still hurt Skrawl. I could have easily killed him. Why didn’t I check the gun? Why didn’t I make sure it was a tranquilizer?

...why didn’t I just talk to him...?

I felt so stupid. I wanted to bang my head against the wall. If I had just spoken to Skrawl about my idea...none of this would have happened. It was my fault that he got more hurt, my fault that I got myself hurt, my fault I got myself arrested. All of this could have been avoided if I had just... argh... Why was I so stupid?

I wondered how Skrawl was doing. I hadn’t seen him in a while. I know he had been vindicated...if that’s the word I’m thinking of, and released from jail for being accused of shooting me. I wonder if he had tried to return to life. Probably wasn’t easy for him, considering what had happened.

My biggest fear was his mind. Was he far more gone now? The damage to his head... Did it remove even more of his brain? How stable was he now? I shuddered to think about it. And the horrible truth was... I would have to live with this for the rest of my life, knowing what, whatever path Skrawl took now...it was my fault.

Well I should try to get to sleep. Maybe sleep will help. Yeah, that would help me get my mind off of things. I lay down in my bed, curled up, and went to sleep.

sss

I didn’t get to sleep long before there was a loud crash. I shot up out of my bed and looked around. I was surprised that none of the other cell mates were able to hear that. Were they all deaf? Even the guards hadn’t shown up.

Well, it was probably just a leaky faucet or something. Okay that made no sense. Maybe a pipe? I don’t know. It probably wasn’t all that important anyway. I readjusted myself on the bed and I closed my eyes to try to resume sleep. I started to hear something, quiet, kinda scrapey. Probably just some stupid mice. So I tried to ignore it.

But it just got louder, and almost...deliberate. I gritted my teeth, feeling frustration burn inside of me. Don’t these people ever have exterminators go through this place to make sure that it was clear? Or were they sitting around just twiddling their thumbs as if nothing was happening? I swear, if one of the guards showed up while I was still awake, I don’t know if I could prevent myself from giving them a piece of my mind.

I tried pulling the cover over my head. Nope. did not work. In fact, it almost seemed to just..make things even worse. I let out a loud groan of frustration, wanting to scream at whoever or whatever was making that noise. I was trying to sleep here. Don’t they have any amount of decency? Well I suppose vermin can’t. They weren’t sentient, after all.

Well, there was nothing I could do about it anyway. I curled up on my bed and closed my eyes. I tried to get back to sleep. It was all I could do right now. After all, it’s just rodents anyway. Was I really going to let them control me? No. I won’t.

At long last, the sound stopped. I let out a sigh of relief. I could feel my mind entering a state of tranquility. At last, I could get to sleep.

...or not.

I couldn’t stop my mind from swirling with thoughts. Skrawl had entered my mind again. I couldn’t stop thinking about him and what was going on with him. I tried to push thoughts of him out of my head so I could concentrate. But... It was just no use. Nothing I did, nothing I could do would get the thoughts out of my head.

Maybe I’d feel better if I stood up and paced around my cell. Pacing often helped me think better. It would help me release this pent up energy and relax more.

I pushed myself off my bed. I sat on the edge. I stretched my arms upward. I could feel the satifactory sensation as my stiff muscles were stretched. I pushed myself up completely and walked towards the iron bars that sealed me inside here ever since I was convicted of shooting Skrawl. I grabbed onto them and leaned against them.

I let out a sigh as I stared out ahead, my mind wandering around, thinking about what happened with Skrawl. I couldn’t stop the pang of guilt from rising up inside of me.

Oh Skrawl... I never meant to hurt you. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could stop myself from shooting you, to get myself to just ask you instead if you wanted to try something new. I..I never thought things would have gotten this bad.. I shut my eyes, fighting back the first sensation of tears. I wiped my eyes.

Well..maybe there was still time. I could try to think of something to give Skrawl. Maybe once I got out of jail, even if it did take a long time, I could make him something. Or maybe I would just leave him alone. I don’t know if he’d want to see me after what happened. Even if I did explain it to him..

And I was still angry at him for what he did to my grandfather.

Yeah, maybe things were just better this way. I’m sorry, Skrawl. It was fun while it lasted. I do hope you are able to find your way in life, and find a better friend than I. I am...sorry that I failed you. Believe me, if I could wind back the clock, I would do things different. But now it was too late. We both will have to live with the consequences of my stupid decision, my horrible mistake.

Before I could finish my train of thought, I could hear footsteps behind me. I could feel my heart twist in fear. It took me only seconds to realize that the guards had given me my own cell. I was supposed to be alone. So what was going on...?

I turned around slowly to see who the intruder was. I didn’t get far before I suddenly felt something grab around my neck. My eyes bulged and I tried to scream for help. My neck was squeezed. I couldn’t breathe. I kicked my legs wildly, trying to get a breath of air, desperately trying to escape. No matter what I did, I couldn’t make any sound. The guards couldn’t be alarmed.

With tears flowing down my face, I tried to look up at who was attacking me. I could see a familiar shape, but with the way the light was set up, I could not make out the face. And my vision soon began to blur as oxygen was deprived from me.

Suddenly, the figure who grabbed me twisted my neck behind its range of motion. There was a resounding snap, and I knew my neck was broken.

Oh gawd the pain... It spread rapidly through my neck. Oh gawd it was so unbearable... It felt as thought someone had taken a knife and shoved it through, clanging painfully against the bone. My body twitched and convulsed in pain, tears flowing heavily down my face, making my nose feel stuffy.

I look up at my attacker, giving him a disbelieving look. Why...? Why did he do this to me? What did I do to deserve this...? I wanted to speak to him. I wanted to say something, anything. But I could not speak anymore. The breakage had cut off my ability to breathe. I could feel myself suffocating, my lungs coming on fire.

In my painful haze, I started to hear singing. It was echoey, but I could make out the words and the voice. I let out a choked cry, the last one I could muster, using the last of my breath, as I recognized who it was. I would never forget that singing voice.

Skrawl... It had been Skrawl. He had snuck into my cell. He had snuck up behind me. And now...he had killed me. And all because of my stupid mistake...

As I looked up again, I started to recognize the figure. I started up at him with half closed eyes. His mismatched eyes, now devoid of all love and kindness, glared harshly down at me, and I could make out a deranged smile as he sang me a deceptively kind lullaby. Slowly, I shut my eyes. Oh Skrawl...what had I done to you...?

The last thing I was aware of before I fell into the silent void of nothingness was Skrawl’s hand against me. I gave one final shudder as he ran his claws through my hair. Then, my body began its death throes, and my world went silent.