Not Another One of Those Days
#1 of Where Minds Lay
Where Minds Lay:
Not Another One of Those Days
The world slowly edges back into reality, a dull thrum in my head to help understand the concrete ground should never be treated like a pillow again. I pull up to my knees. The ache in my arms, legs, and back convinces me that I will need to call in sick to work tonight.
That thought helps me focus. I search around and remember where it is I am. This part of town is terrible, most particularly in the morning. The better homeless individuals, and there are such a thing, are off to beg for change, leaving the most depraved to hunt freely, untested and, mostly, unseen. No homeless being turns up the chance to rat someone out for the warrant dollar. Why I know this and Corporate Government doesn't patrol here is beyond me, maybe because they're afraid. The Scavengers run through hobo hideouts and plunder through the little belongings they have, usually using them as leverage to bargain with the hobo to get the prized possession back. The Dealers are substantially worse in the morning, the ones who are a little more hardcore and not self-employed like... Lenny
I suddenly wonder what happened to him. The spot where he once laid retained dried blood with small tracks leading away and eventually disappearing around the farthest corner of the old, grease stain of a building. Someone took his whole body? It had to be a group activity, it... My words from last night ring in the aching confines of my mind. I don't understand what those thugs did to him, or if they possibly were under my control. The stress my mind went under could not have left anymore control, could it?
My paws clutch at my head to hold in the bursting thoughts. Things spun out of control last night, and I don't have the constitution to ponder on them. I need rest. I have to get home.
Walking back through the worse part of the city in the same dirty, skimpy clothes feels awfully familiar, feels so much like last night. That terrible feeling hanging above me. My mind held the nagging thoughts, worries, and complex questions at bay as I put a foot in front of the other. Just get into a patrolled territory and maybe then take a break to address the millions of problems swarming in my head. Though, things are never that easy.
I only have a few block to go, but a large lizard with a rebelliously feathered spine swings out around the corner of the next building dressed in dirty jeans and a leather jacket. His eyes look at me as if he knew I would be here. The sight of him should scare or intimidate me, but only anger and irritation build up as he smirks the devious winning smile. I'm already connected to his mind, feeding off the present thoughts and instantly knowing what comes next.
I look back over my shoulder to see a long beak sticking out past the corner behind me. The other figure struts out with a black cane poking the ground on his every third step. I know by way of the lizard's mind that this is one of the many corrupt enterprises of this area. Pimps. The well-rounded crow even favored the classic fur coat, riddled with dirt and stains. The fur-lined hat on his head also was dirty and crooked. There was something else, something that made me smile.
The lizard had a crush on the pimp.
"Well, little girl, are you lost?" The crow asks in a squawking voice that already got on my nerves. "We pass out road maps, but we're kinda fresh out. We were just on the way back to the station to pick a fresh batch." I look at the lizard, who rested against the building ahead and watched me with the same smirk. "I see you met my friend. Don't worry. He's just-"
"Protection?" I ask.
"What?" I turn around and look at the confused pimp.
"You were going to say he's your protection."
"Uh... Well, yes... L-like I was saying-"
"I'm not going anywhere with you. I'm not lost. I know exactly where I am. And you're sadly mistaken if you think you're going to abduct me like your other street hookers." Mentioning that I wasn't a boy wouldn't have mattered, according to what I can see inside the crow's mind. His eyes squint in to one of the most odd looks I've seen and directs over my shoulder to his partner. His mind tells me "who the hell is this fox?", finally becoming aware that he has never seen me before and feeling insecure about continuing with the capture. He just doesn't know how justified those fears are.
The lizard gets up from the wall, prepared to get me. I don't have to look when his friend is doing all the observing... all that thinking. His footsteps get closer, but I'm watching through the pimp's eyes. Somehow, everything is planned out, like my bad mood rising gifts me with clear action. The lizard only has to get a little closer...
The crow spontaneously points his cane past the lizard, eyes going wide with convincing fear and telling his lines in perfect performance. The lines I gave him, he simply acts the part for me. My puppet in his mind.
"What's THAT?!" As I suspected, the lizard turns his head. I take the moment to spin on my heel, with the familiar fluid motion dancing so many nights gifted me with, and deliver a kick that's so powerful... The lizard doesn't even get the chance to make an appropriate sound. After the audible hit to his groin, he clutches his genitals(or lack thereof after that kick) and looks as though he sees Jesus. I look hard to see under his eyes... yes, those are tears.
"Wh... what the hell? What the fuck did you do?!" The pimp yells, freaking out after coming off my strings.
I turn and stare at the crow, who's huddling back behind the corner he came from. Then he runs away with his "protection" laid out on the cold concrete. Thus are the fragile bonds of loyalty here in this dirty, depraved part of the city.
Before I move on, I stop by his crying face and look down. His eyes twitch up at me, looking as if it hurts too much to be angry. I point down. "
"The concrete's not a pillow. Just thought you should know."
I don't know if there has, or ever will be, a time I so loved to see the front step of my shitty home. Inside, the decaying halls hold a new magic to me while traveling past the elevator with the Out of Order sign and spitting sparks. The stairs try to give my tired, sore calf muscles trouble, but my motivation to reach safety and seclusion couldn't be hindered now. In no time, the door to my apartment greets my eyes in the same majestic light the whole building took on since last night's events.
My roommate isn't even around when I walk in. I don't wait; my room calls to me. Once the door slides out of the way, I jump under the covers and pull my Holo-pad into my lap. With it, I turn on the News, which beams a picture from the slender device resting upon my short, stumpy book shelf. I use the Holo-pad to send a message to my work about my sick notice for tonight, knowing I will have to put some "influence" on Fred just to keep my job. It has to be done. Later.
That thought tries to bring back all the terrible things I've done... last night and the tragic shooting on Lenny. Checking my email only distracts a little, but it helps. Then my eyes catch a strange message. The thumbnail by the title "Something You Might Not Want To Miss" is in the shape of black angel wings. Holding my muzzle in surprise, I realize someone sent me a Black Angel hack message. Normal computer users would delete it, thinking it was an actual virus, but my Major from school taught me more. They are viruses, but they're also messages from underground groups. If they notice you, and send you a message, then you did something big. You did something to oppose the Corporate Order.
What did I...? Did they know? It couldn't be anything else, they had to know... somehow they knew!
Painfully, I open the message, not sure what to expect. The message automatically opens a file and... it connects to my TV. I watch as the News changes to a report of a dirty, beaten wolf in restraints being escorted out of the Prima Beta Co. building, the tallest building in the city... They have to tranquilize him while pulling him out of the building. My paw is still holding my gaping mouth. My eyes practically refuse to believe what they witness.
The next report is of a group of "thugs" bringing in a coyote who they admittedly shot. Last night, a coyote was treated and put in intensive care but went missing several hours after receiving treatment. The report says the police tried to apprehend who they discovered was a drug dealer with multiple warrants for his arrest, but they only snagged his white coat as he fled.
Tears slid down my face with a small... hysterical... bit of laughter leaking out. I cry and laugh, something I forgot how to do a long time ago, but it just... it's just not one of those days. It's completely different. It's like a second chance.