W A L L Y

57 1 3
                                    

Waiting. That's all anyone ever did in this neighborhood. They could have it in their head, pondering, waiting, rotting away in their brains  but not really doing anything anyway. 

All in all, I guess that was everybody's one flaw. To think on something, and think, think, think until it spreads like a virus throughout the ever-susceptible cranium, to the point of  paralyzing. 

Look to the future, such a prevalent saying. But they never specify how to. Where do you find a future? What if you don't even want one?

Listening to people repeat what they want you to do, with no instruction manual, no guide whatsoever seems counter intuitive. As though a broken record is playing. The whole song may be enjoyable, but repeating one sour part can be annoying, distressing even.

You are stuck. Stuck in one part of life, one frame of time as the rest of the world moves on and grows. Everyone should know that being stuck in a place, like jail, can be miserable. However there is a set date to be released in jail. What do you do if you are stuck in a thought? Who determines a release date?



The real question we must ask is, how do we speed up the process of being freed?

         ;;;~;;;

Barnaby  had lots of time to think, a bit too much time. So much time, in fact, that he was speeding towards Poppy's house on all fours. He came to a stop in the front of her door, panting and itching his front paws. There seemed to be noise inside her house, a signature hum Barnaby can assume is her while baking. There do seem to be other footsteps as well.

It would be rude to intrude, right?

No, this was for Wally, the best friend that life could give him. Nothing would be more upsetting to him, to anyone than Wally's harm. So he knocked. He knocked the door frantically, consistently. Until Poppy opened to door, a bewildered look on her face. "Barnaby!" She said, "Come in!"

She fiddled with her feathers. "Is anything wrong Barnaby? You were practically banging on my poor door"

Frank and Sally walked into the living room, both with relieved looks on their faces. "It's just Barnaby."

This made Barnaby stop. Just Barnaby?

"Who are you all hiding from?"

"We're not hiding per se... We just want everyone to be safe." Sally claimed, as though she had been pinched.

"Safe from who?" Barnaby asked, raising a fur covered brow, not like it had any difference to the rest of his fur.

"Safe from themselves" Frank said strongly, waving his arms. "You know who I'm speaking of already Barnaby."

oh.

"Wally?"

"Not so loud!" Frank hushed. "Me, Sally and Poppy all agree. We think Wally might be... well..."

"Spit it out already! I'm not getting any younger." Barnaby exclaimed in a nervous joking manner. He knew this wasn't the time, but his own dread was starting to seep in. Frank took a breath and stated almost robotic, "We believe Wally might be suicidal."

;;;~;;;

Home watches everything. Everyone silently knows, at least, that's what Wally had told him. Wally had told Home many things, his mellow and monotone voice not quite filling the halls. However, Home could still hear him.

Home doesn't hear everything. He couldn't hear Wally mumbling to himself in the front yard, a bottle of a liquid Wally never told him about in his hand. It reminded him of a rotten apple cider. Home didn't hear the fumbling in the woods, or the falling, the giggling, and the crying. No, he didn't hear that.

What he did hear was Eddie asking Barnaby into the woods. What he did hear was Frank sprinting around the neighborhood, having a mental crisis over Eddie not being home when he was supposed to be. What he did hear was that Wally wasn't going to be with him tonight.

That was fine for the most part. Home is just confused. Why couldn't he be home? What did that rotten apple cider have to do with it?

And why was Wally's mellow, soft voice so gruff? 

          ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There's not much to say, honestly. I appreciate all the comments from all of you. Have an amazing day or night!

Wally Darling - An ANGST storyWhere stories live. Discover now