Learning Pains
Part 4
You wake up and smack your lips; your mouth is dry. Your eyes feel gritty and you rub them with the fluff just above one hoofsie. You look around and freeze in fright and confusion before you remember where you are.
It’s an improvement over the tiny box you lived in at that horrible, horrible place, but it’s not your alley. It’s not freedom. You’ll have to escape from the hoomin munstas somehow and find your way back home.
The door to your small room opens and you look up in fright. There’s the small hoomin, the one who named you Petunia. You never needed a name before, never wanted one, but now that you have one it just feels… right, somehow.
“Good morning, Petunia!”
You say nothing, still trying to adjust to the situation you’ve found yourself in. The big hoomin munsta looms behind her and frowns as he looks at you. You shrink back deeper into your nestie, afraid to meet his eyes and afraid to look away. Either might anger him. The munstas at the shelter were abritrary and one day they might get angry and scream and give hurties because you dared to look them in the eyes, and the next day they’d get angry because you wouldn’t look at them. It was so confusing. You didn’t like spending all day, every day being scared, confused, and hurt. You didn’t like it at all.
The small hoomin makes some sort of rattling noise and then stands up, looking proud of herself.
“Look, Petunia! I gave you nummies!”
You look over in that direction, hopeful, and your tummeh gurgles. Well, they wouldn’t get angry at you for eating your nummies now, would they? The munstas at the shelter never did. So you cautiously climb out of your nestie and trot over to the bowl, sniffing the nummies. They smell wonderful. Just before you take your first bite, however, you pause.
It’s better to appease the munstas. That way they don’t get angry and hurt you. You look up at the small hoomin, unable to decide if you should look her in the eyes or not and compromising on darting your eyes back and forth, and quietly say, “fank yoo fow nummies.”
“You’re welcome, Petunia!”
The small hoomin sits down next to you and pets you while you eat. You flinch the first few times, but the petting feels nice. You don’t like her being so close while you eat though; she might take your nummies away and leave you hungry, like the munstas at the shelter did whenever you made them angry at nummies time.
“Ugh! Really?”
You look up at the big hoomin and see irritation in his face. Horror strikes you; you don’t know what you’ve done, but you’ve angered him somehow. You run and hide in the nestie, even though you know it offers no protection, and watch as the big hoomin… cleans up your poopies?
“C’mon sweetie, let’s let Petunia finish her breakfast. You’ve got to get ready for school.”
“Aaaaw, dad! I wanna stay and play with her! I haven’t gotten to play with my new fluffy AT ALL!”
“I know, but school is more important. C’mon kiddo, you gotta get ready or you’ll be late for the bus.”
The small hoomin turns and waves at you.
“Bye-bye, Petunia! I’ll see you after school!”
Then the door shuts and you’re all alone again.
What just happened?
You emerge from your nestie, puzzled, and try to process everything that happened.
The big munsta looked annoyed, but he didn’t yell or hurt you. And… you sniff and confirm. Your poopies are gone.
Maybe you made poopies in the right place?
Glad to have settled that issue, you resume eating your nummies. They’re SO much better than the hard, awful tasting nummies at the shelter!
But now you’re thirsty. Where’s the wawa?
You’re playing experimentally with the blockies, fascinated by all the things you can do with them, like lining them up, stacking them, and more! Then the door opens and you yelp in startled fright.
It’s the big munsta!
“Hey, Petunia. How you doing, girl?”
“F-f-fwuffy… Petunia am gud.”
You almost forgot your new name!
He nods, looking around the little room, then starts to leave.
You know it’s risky. Asking for anything in the shelter nearly always resulted in owies. But you’re so thirsty!
“Pwease, nice mista…” you have to use your prettiest words, or he’ll hurt you! “Can Petunia haf sum wawa? Su fuwsty!”
He frowns and you get a sinking feeling in your tummeh that you’ve made a terrible mistake. But he doesn’t yell or hit you.
“You have water.”
You look around in confusion. You don’t see wawa! You don’t smell wawa either.
“Whewe?”
“Right there. In your water bottle.”
You blink at him, utterly stumped, and still uncertain whethere you’re supposed to look at him or not. He stomps over near your nummies bowl with his big, clompy hoofsies and points.
“Right there. Are you that stupid?”
“Whu dat?”
“It’s your water bottle!”
“Dewe wawa dewe?”
“Yes.”
You slowly waddle over to the strange object, afraid to invoke the munsta’s wrath, and sniff it. Then you poke it with a hoofsie.
“Whewe wawa?”
“Oh for- have you never seen a water bottle?”
You shake your head while pressing your body to the floor in what you hope is a sufficiently submissive posture.
“Great. They tell me to pay for a damn water bottle because fluffies are dumb enough to drown in a dish, then I get the one that’s too clueless to figure out a water bottle. Fine, I’ll get you a water dish. But I paid for that bottle, you’re gonna learn how to use it.”
Then the big, scary munsta stomps away out of the little room… leaving the door open.
You can escape! You can finally go home again!
You scoot out the door as fast as your little legs will take you, then look around frantically, trying to find a way out. You have to escape before the munsta traps you in there again!
But then you hear a sound that chills you to the bone.
“Cheepcheepcheepcheep! Cheeeeeep! Cheep!”
Oh no! The munstas have babies too! You have to help the babies escape!
You follow the sound into another room. There’s a glowing box with pictures in it showing some sort of little wingie animals and a hoomin talking about them. You still hear the babies, but you can’t find them!
“Babbehs? Babbehs! Whewe babbehs?!”
The big munsta walks in carrying something and spots you. You yelp and press flat to the floor, tail tucked under your belly, and cover your see-places with your hoofsies.
“Hey, you’re supposed to stay in your safe room!”
He picks you up and you scream, thrashing to get away.
“Hey, watch it! You’re gonna make me drop you! Aaaaand I just spilled your water everywhere. Great.”
“Babbehs! Wun, babbehs!”
“Ugh, already? I so did not want to deal with this.”
He carries you back in the little room and sets you down on your nestie. Then he raises your head to look at him and you tremble as he looks right into your eyes.
“Gonna have to nip this in the bud. Petunia? You can’t have babies. You’re fixed.”
“Wh… whu fiksed?”
“It means the fluffy doctor made it so you can’t have babies. Ever. No matter how hard you try, you will never have babies. So just get over it now.”
The munsta stands up, muttering something about cleaning up wawa, while you stare in shock.
No babies?
True, you never particularly wanted babies, never really pictured yourself having them, being a mummah never really occurred to you before, but… now you don’t even have the option? Is that why they gave you the most horrible burnie hurties in your special place? They were making it so you could never have babies? They hurt you so badly, you’ll never have babies, ever?
You lay down in your nestie, shaking in horror and sorrow.
You’ll never hold a little baby in your hoofsies. You’ll never have a baby tell you it loves you. You’ll never feel a little one clinging to your fluff, never smell the sweet scent of a baby. You’ll never give miwkies or watch your babies grow up big and strong. You’ll never be called mummah.
You try not to cry, but the first sob escapes and after that you can’t hold them back. Tears stain your fluff and drip onto your soft nestie and you bury your face and wail.
You cry so hard you never even notice the munsta return and set the wawa dish down, then stare awkwardly for a few minutes before leaving and shutting the door again.
Why is everyone so MEAN to you?! They took your home away, they took any feeling of safety and joy away, and now they took away any babies you might have had! They take and take and take, and all they give you is scaredies and heart hurties and owies! What is left for them to take from you?
You bury your face deeper in the blankies and wail uncontrollably.
The world is a horrible place.