A Friend For The Insane

Chapter Six: Fist and Knuckle

Spamton had given her his story, he gave her his secrets and told her his hardships.

She would have to do the same at some point in time, but that time was not now, now she had to leave, take Spamton and leave. There was no point in staying near the now hanging silent phone, nor in staying in a suddenly very stuffy shop.

It was getting late- or so she assumed-and at some point while she was walking, Spamton had woken up then gone back to sleep several times. She walked past a few Addisons, some of which waved in pleasant greetings, while others scowled at her friend

Fona didn't like those ones, she knew they had a vendetta against Spamton, but couldn't they see past that? Spamton had been clearly going through stuff, he had been living without anybody there to help him for who knew how long?

She turned away from the glow of the lights, shaking herself out of her thoughts.

Soon she came to a curb, she sat near a wall, and watched what little stars she could see.

Her friend was still fast asleep. His eyes closed and his mouth slightly ajar, the sounds of snoring were heard every so often.

Eventually, the snores were like a lullaby, slowly willing her to close her eyes, drifting into a deep sleep.

She didn't really dream of anything, yet something was definitely happinging, maybe not from any dreams but. . .

She heard voices, stuff moving, even her own body felt. . . Weightless.

Then she woke up.

Spamton was gone, no longer in her arms, she was sprawled on the ground, not near where she had been before. Fona rubbed her temple, sat up, and looked around for her friend.

When she couldn't find him in the immediate area. She panicked.

Later she would probably mentally look over the past few days, feeling all that anxiety and fear she would probably laugh a little at how childish it felt.

Now, however, she needed to find her friend, she didn't want it to become a habit of something bad happening to him, whether something reminding him of his past or Kris.

Her hand scraped across a folded sheet of paper lying on the ground a few inches away from her.

She tentatively picked it, unfolded it and read what was written.

'You must be Spamton's new friend we've heard so much about' was the first line, she hadn't thought many people knew that or that they would care.

'Seems you choose the wrong friend, we'll get rid of him for you, he is trash after all'

Fona's brows knitted together in aggravation: how dare they call Spamton trash.

'But if you think otherwise, then find us outside of the Queens mansion. If you think you can win, we'll make a grand show out of your blood splattering on the ground, begging us to let you go.'

Her blood boiled: so whoever these pricks were, thought that they could get away with taking her friend, calling him trash, and then insulting her by saying they would spill her blood if she tried to free him?

What a bunch of bastards.

Fona crumpled the paper in her hand, Tore it in half, threw the remains on the ground, and stalked away.

Whoever these people were, they were going to pay. She would make sure that would be fact.

Consequences be damned.

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She found him. In Front of a huge pathway to a large queen head shaped building in the distance. laying in the middle of the empty street, a tattered Spamton. He probably had seen worse days, but just seeing her friend lying almost motionless on the ground, glasses shattered next to him, pushed more than a few buttons.