Zootopia is a Utopia with You

Shadows

On short legs, Nick jogged away, his orange fur enticed my eye to follow. Even though I'd never admit it out loud he caught my interest, whether that was a positive or negative interest was yet to be seen. Instead of being allowed the time to consider my passion for this anthropomorphic character, I was being distracted by an ever persistent spiderman, who was only in his spandex without his mask. I was apparently the object of his affections as he wouldnt stop explaining the entire plot of I'm thinking of ending things, breathlessly, the way a child does. I was grateful for the company, though, if it would keep me away from Jughead who kept looking over his shoulder snarling more than any of the animal counterparts. I tried to dissociate from the tightness threatening my chest but all i was met with was questions of my own doing. Why me? Can I even do this? Who do I think I am? I think, what are they doing, my family or what's left of it, in the room on 30th street in the room I gave up, in the house I gave up and the rest of the people I gave up one.

The sound of creaking metal scraped against the concrete floors, and stole me from my thoughts. It was two doors. They opened into a spacious room, decorated in modern furniture and a cohesive color scheme. It was well put together and the space made a lot of sense except for the warrior cat shrine above the grand piano in the hallway. My eyes looked away and as I frantically tried to let them find something new, that's when I saw her. She was in her late thirties but had the body of an 18 year old glamour model. An almost perfectly proportioned woman, of average height, I must add that while articulating a completely intelligent thought, she is wearing an extraordinarily low cut shirt, and I can't help marvel at the contradiction. Realization hits me like a rock, "Mom?"