Walking in Spamton's Shoes: Chapter 3

Untitled Part 1

"I hate it here... I don't wanna live..."

"Don't talk like that, you're gonna be okay-"

"NO! Don't you get it!? Once a washed up Addison, always a washed up Addison-"

"Keep your voice down, you're gonna wake the others..."

"...I just wanna go home..."

Click awoke in the middle of the night to several Addisons talking in their sleep, whimpering, crying, or hugging each other for comfort. He sat up a bit and looked up at the clock on the wall, it was 4:26; still a bit of time before the lights were going to turn on for the day. He turned to his left to see someone three rows down in the fetal position sobbing their eyes out while two other Addisons rubbed their back. To his right he watched as one Addison was experiencing night terrors, twitching in their cot, and pawing at the air. Behind him he could hear someone frantically searching through their belongings.

"Where is it? Where is it!? WHERE IS IT!?" they aggressively whispered. "I NEED THAT MEDICATION, I'LL GO INSANE WITHOUT IT, WHERE IS IT!?"

Click didn't want to disturb anyone, nor did he feel it was his place to do so, and so he kept to himself as he tried to tune out everyone's struggles. He didn't want to admit it, but something about this hostel made him straight up feel unwelcomed. Not only was he taking advantage of the non profit's kindness by being there when he didn't qualify for the help, but he was now considered a minority here. Back at work, he'd be just like everyone else, your typical 'Tertiary Class Joe' among the other tertiary Addisons, but here, he was like a pink maus in a room full of primary tasques, all being held back from attacking him because he was surrounded by a glass box of privilege, yet he didn't realize it completely. Any sudden or wrong move he'd make, and he'd surely be asking for a world of hurt. He had to be on his best behavior here, he was an unwanted guest, and trying to guide anyone here like he was in charge of them was going to result in a fight. Even any "best interest" assistance he could offer anyone in need here might be seen as tertiary saviorism, and would make him look like the bad guy no matter what his intentions were. Afterall, it wasn't his job or his place to be offering any of his advice to others without knowing their circumstances or choices that they're facing, their problems aren't his to fix. Click shuffled back under his covers and shut his eyes, trying to drown out the sorrows and tears that flooded the room. Eventually after a few minutes, many of the crying Addisons calmed down and returned to sleep, so it was quiet enough again for him to drift back into slumber.

- - -

"LIGHTS ON!" a chartreuse colored Addison in the balconies yelled to the dark blue workers.

As expected, the lights turned on and shined down on every sleepy Addison's face. The majority of them groaned as they slugged out of bed and got ready for the day, others remained asleep as the light wasn't enough to wake them. Click however was woken by the light and was part of the chorus of groans that followed. He looked up at the time again, it was now 6:30, guess he managed to get another hour and a half of sleep. Slipping out of his covers, he grabbed his clothes he had neatly folded on his bed and began to put them on. It was a shame that he wouldn't be able to freshen them up today, the place didn't look like they provided any ironing tools or washing machines. He looked around to see what others were wearing, and most had on bulky clothing like hoodies and jeans, others had on very wrinkly work clothes, they were also the ones to run out of the building first, most likely heading out to work. And the one Addison in the corner, he was wearing a red flannel with a concert tee, and dress pants that were stained mainly on the knees from the wear and tear of crawling around. Despite him being the most mentally ill Addison here, he was surprisingly one of the better dressed, even if it was covered in dust and mud stains. Click tied his dress shoe laces and took out his hair elastic to begin combing out his hair for the day. Again, he had no hairbrush, so all he could do was untangle any knots he found with his hands, and tie his hair back up. He could feel his hair was starting to get greasy from not showering for two days, and would also mean he'd probably start to stink soon without any deodorant to apply. Once he was finishing removing as many knots as he could, he tied his hair back up into a ponytail and took a breath. He looked over at the entrance to see a few Addisons in aprons and hairnets arrive and walked over to the cafeteria area; guess they were going to be serving breakfast to the Addisons who choose to have a meal instead of sleeping here. Suddenly Click felt an immediate empty feeling in his stomach appear, along with quite a long and loud growl, which he tried to cover up as to not draw attention to himself.