Madness At Noon {COMPLETED}

Blood, Pain, and Cheese Balls 5/10

            Rough fabric. Cool wetness dabbing at my forehead. Waking was slow, groggy, like swimming through an ocean of concrete and nails. I heard quick breaths, the slow sweeping of a furred tail against a dusty floor, and the quiet hum of a machine somewhere on my left.

It was forever – it felt like forever before my eyes opened, and the first sight I saw was Cheshire's large, yellow eyes and the tears welling up within them.

"Hello, darling." I attempted a smile. "Is it nearly morning?"

Red fur and pink flesh blurred as the boy threw himself at me. "Oh! Oh... Ok then. I, uh, well, I... You... You are getting my robe all snotty." Rather than scuttle away or release his hold, my words seemed to have the opposite effect as Cheshire gripped me even tighter, wrapping his small arms around my waist and clinging to me as if his tiny strength was all that kept me grounded to the living world. And when I happened to glance to my left, I saw that it might very well be the case.

"My dear." I winced and shuddered. My throat was like desert sand, and my lungs igneous rock; to speak or draw in breath was a challenge. "My dear, it is getting a little hard to breathe."

Cheshire sniffled and finally did relent and release me, wiping the tears and snot on a patch of fur on his arm. He sat back on his haunches, bottom lip still trembling, gripping his tail in hands and wringing it like a child with his favorite blankie.

"Mee."

It was the saddest sound I had ever heard, near enough to break my heart.

Judging by the smell in the air, it was a Tuesday, but that did little good since I had no idea which Tuesday it could be. Though, considering the many dozen stacks of newspapers piled atop what looked to be a well-chewed, decomposing body in the corner by the counter, it had been quite some time.

I tried to gather my thoughts. Slowly, painfully slow, I was beginning to return to myself and remember.

My wrists were bandaged. They had been badly damaged when I broke the restraining cords tying me down to confront the Gentleman. Because of my condition, I had not even noticed the injury. I had been... emotionally distracted. The blood loss must have taken away my senses whereto I wandered to this street corner shop. Cheshire had found me. Bottles of chicken broth and dissolvable vitamins and mineral waters littered the floor between the aisle. The boy must have been spoon-feeding me all this time, keeping me alive. He had also arranged a large nest made of disposable ponchos and picnic table cloths, in which I was nestled rather comfortably.

But even more than all that, Cheshire had, at some point, left and brought me my purse.

Few people know this, but I keep a handy little metal box, no bigger than a severed hand, in my glitter gold purse at all time. In it is an O negative blood bag and needle, which I replace every forty-two days to keep fresh. With my condition, combined with my recreational hobbies, it is quite often when I am in need of a transfusion.

I did not recall ever showing this to Cheshire. For him to find my refrigerated blood box, know to bring it to me, and correctly insert the needle into the vein and give me the blood...

I looked at the boy sitting in front of me with new eyes. Here I had believed I had collected just another pet to keep me company on those long, lonely nights, but... "You are... quite intelligent, aren't you?"

His cheeks pinked. The tips of his long ears twitched as if to say, "Of course."

"I'm sorry, my boy," I said. "I should have noticed earlier."