What more could I loose? // awsamponk

8 - ponk hates therapy

Ponk woke up, as usual, woke up to the sun blinding his eyes. He woke up like this quite often, when he didn't wake up to sam and foolish talking about strip poker that is. Ponks life was like a movie in the morning, and like most movies, he did not want to get up. He sighed, turning and laying on his stomach and digging his face into the pillow.

It took ponk, probably a good half an hour to get out of bed and get ready. He had a plan today. One that- hopefully- he wouldn't lose motivation on. He walked down the hall, peeking in the bathroom. Ponk cringed slightly. He would have to clean up that blood sometime later. After y'know, kicking Foolish in the jaw and then getting restrained by Sam on the wall— today was going to be a good day.

Ponk walked outside, didn't bother locking the door since apparently, just everyone owned a key to his house. It took a good ten minutes of long walking before he finally made it to the main SMP. Now, to find this person would take abit more than just simply looking.

Ponk walked along the prime path. It was surprising that it wasn't broken yet, I mean— for how many people that walked on it daily, you'd expect after years it would've gotten a little Broken. He brushed off the thought as he continued to walk. No matter how hard he tried to think about something interesting, his mind went back to when he'd supposedly broken one of foolishs fingers.

Ponk saw the nether portal, so close. He was so close to the person until he heard someone call out his name from behind him. He took a deep breath before reluctantly turning around, being greeted from a distance with a semi-familiar face. Puffy.

What could she of all people want? Ponk sighed before waving back, the mask hiding his unimpressed look. He walked over to puffy, who was smiling at him oddly. "How are you ponk?" She asked oddly cheerfully. Something was odd about her today.

"..I'm good." Ponk said, a little confused. He and puffy hadn't talked in—..who knows how long. "Did you um- need something?" Ponk Didn't think to ask puffy how she was; which was rude on his part. Oh well. Just pretend like he wanted to talk, get this over with, whatever this is— and continue on his merry way.

"Yeah, I did actually— walk and talk?" Puffy took a step back, as if it were a question, but not wanting No as an answer. "..Sure." Ponk was still abit, sketched out, to say the least. Something was up, but non the less he reluctantly walked next to puffy, walking the same way he'd come.

"So, sam came to me yesterday," fuck. He was done for. Why would- why would sam bring someone else into this? "And he told me you've been having..some problems— not bad problems! Just some issues you've bottled up and won't talk to him about." Ponk was tempted to turn and run away, but something stopped him. Just a gut feeling that maybe there was more to this.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that. We all have things we prefer others not to know I suppose." Ponk said, a small sigh escaping his lips. Puffy nodded in agreement, "I agree with that, though the issue he described to me involved you..well-" "I'm aware I broke your son's finger if that's what you're about to address." Ponk said a little irritated, it's not like he meant to, it just kinda,, happened.

"..fingers, you broke two fingers. Not just one." Ponk coughed, "oh shit—" puffy hummed in agreement, "I agree, oh shit. That's why I wanted to talk with you." Puffy stopped at a small office, a sign written 'therapy office' above it. "I- I know I broke your son's finger— but I don't need therapy—" Ponk backed up a little. No way he was going to therapy. Sam really— sam really signed him for therapy?? What kind of friend was he. No way was ponk going to—

————

"So, explain to me, what caused you to have such an outburst?" Puffy asked, a clipboard in hand. Ponk sat there on the nice velvet couch, much more expensive than one needed for a simple office. Ponk shrugged, "..I suppose I was just scared."

"Scared of what?" "Many things. Sam, foolish, time, the constant.." ponk paused. He couldn't continue. He wasn't allowed. "The constant what?" Puffy asked as she looked up at ponk from her clipboard.

"..the fear that I know I won't have enough time."

"For what..?"

"I don't have enough time to fix everything."

Puffy sighed, she was a little confused with ponk's wording. "Why do you feel as though you don't have enough time? Are you afraid of death?" She rested the clipboard on her lap. The room was quiet for a moment, the uncomfortable feeling settled in. The felt as if the room was slowly shrinking, shutting puffy and ponk inside. She got this unsettling feeling from ponk. He stared at the table— his eyes almost flashing with some sort of emotion. The tension only grew before a small sigh escaped his lips, looking back up at her.

"I don't feel, I know I don't have enough time. I was trying to get more time before you interrupted me." Puffy stared at him confused. He stared at her with an unsettling look. Something felt off about him after that point, as if it was no longer ponk in the room, but someone totally different from the blonde she knew. She'd never seen ponk so..passively aggressive. He looked fine, nothing changed about the way he looked. but the room had completely changed. As if something were guilting her to stop asking any further questions. As if someone was pushing against her chest, making her unable to speak- unable to decode what ponk had been saying. She couldn't help but take a deep breath, to make sure she wasn't suffocating under the pressure she felt at that moment."..can I leave now?"

"..I don't think you've said everything that needs to be said, ponk."

"..can I leave now."

"I think it's better if—..ponk?..what are you—"

—————

Ponk officially hates therapists.

He walked along the path, humming to himself, wiping the blood off his knuckles onto his pants. He continued to walk around, the light breeze from the wind caused the trees to Russell lightly around him. He walked down a long path of trees, a road being seen in the distance, which would supposedly lead to a place called "las Nevadas". He made a mental note to go visit there sometime before..

he finally reached where he was supposed to be hours ago. George's house.

As he approached, George, who was watering flowers, noticed ponk in the distance. He narrowed his eyes before sighing. He placed the watering can down on the ground before standing back up.

"George!"

"..ponk," George said, a little unsettled. The closer ponk got to George the more the brunette could notice the blood on ponks clothing and hands, though his attitude seemed as happy as usual. What the hell did ponk do?

He continued to examine ponk, his mind running around as to what could've caused this, but one thing was clear; that blood wasn't ponks.

"George! Okay so basically I nee—"

"Ponk shut up. What the actual hell did you do?" George wasn't sure how to react to this. That was his friend- his partner- number 23. How was he supposed to react? He stared at ponk, who stared back at him for a moment before a long sigh. "Let's talk about this inside." He said, walking past George, brushing shoulders with him as he walked across the oak bridge. George didn't have the time to argue about the location of where they were, by the time he turned to look at ponk he was already happily skipping across the bridge.