A Parade of Indignities

Chapter 8: Of Breaking Points and The Price of Persistence

Zim seemed to forget his rigid, militaristic posture, instead opting for a slow trudge as he headed down the familiar path in the direction of the base. The cold springtime air whistled down his throat and into his lungs, prompting another fit of coughing by the time he'd turned the corner and left the skool out of sight.

He unconsciously balled his fists in irritation, wincing in startled pain as the movement opened the cuts on his hand and caused them to weep.

Glancing upwards, the breeze washing over the dew of sweat on his feverish brow, he absently decided to cut through the park, concurrently removing one glove to examine his bloodied knuckles as he did so.

He clenched his teeth at the persistent stinging in his right hand and examined the cuts with two parts resentment and one part concern. Small flecks of blood dappled the hem of his sleeve.

A very large part of him was concerned that it hadn't healed already. Irkens were notoriously quick healers, a trait they credited to their PAKs. What would otherwise be a lethal injury to a lesser lifeform would, to an Irken, be nothing more than an unpleasant memory in less than a day's time, leaving not even a scar to tell the story.

His split knuckles earned its place in his ever-growing reserve of anxieties with each drip of emerald blood on the concrete beneath his feet. It was just another hallmark that something was wrong with him.

Clutching the glove tighter in his left hand, he continued walking down the sidewalk and through Hurt Park.

The grassy area was filled with towering oaks and large pine trees, offering a choice view of the city from its highest point. Nearby, a playground had been constructed, making it a popular location for families. All things considered, the park was one of the more desirable places in town, and the place was often filled with mirthful children and their parents. It was all the same to Zim.

One of the most notable features was its close proximity to the town's cemetery, in which the two were adjacent. The cemetery, from what Zim could gather, was a place in which the humans buried their deceased. They visited them, sometimes cleaned their headstones, and adorned the surrounding area with notes and flowers. It was just another sentiment specific to humanity that he could not grasp.

No such place existed on Irk; deceased Irkens were stripped of their PAKs and cremated immediately following their deaths. The PAKs then went to the Control Brains, to be added to the collective. That was how they lived on; through the whole of their race's knowledge.

Zim had never actually entered the cemetery, although he often passed by it. He never had a reason to. Every now and then, though, he would catch a glimpse of Dib strolling back from this area.

Zim would be out walking GIR through the park in a desperate attempt to take the edge off his seemingly bottomless energy, striding grumpily among the dead patches of grass, litter, and vagrant humans, when he would see the unmistakable silhouette of Dib exiting through the large steel gates that led out to the sidewalk.

It used to be a rare occurrence, almost an anomaly. Within the last six months, however, it had become more and more frequent. Almost every time Zim found himself in the park, usually in the late afternoon between skool and his precious hours allotted for mission planning, he would see him.

It wasn't only that, though, but Dib's demeanor during these occasions greatly puzzled him. Each time, without fail, he was gently composed with a thoughtful expression on his face. Several times, he even walked straight past Zim without sparing a moment to insult or even shoot him a glare.

For every detail Dib did not know about Zim and his home world, Zim held close to the same amount for Dib. It made him anxious to see the human grow older. Almost overnight, he'd gone from being a loud, overactive Earth smeet to being something entirely different. He was now continually offering a novel perspective in his new, mild-mannered state. Catching Zim off guard.