Mercy (By:PeppermintParchment)

Mercy

PeppermintParchment

Esperanza Gutierrez listened half-heartedly as her best friend, Lula Jones, chattered about her science fair win. A big, red ribbon, proudly emblazoned with the phrase “Second Place”, bounced happily on Lula’s chest.

“Well of course Mikey would win, he built a volcano! Don’t feel so down, Esperanza. I liked your, er…stuff.” Lula eyes the green mixture that slops loudly in the bowl Esperanza carries. “It’s called Oobleck, silly. Didn’t you read the book?” Esperanza chastises, sticking her hand in the stringy cornstarch and water mixture. Lula shrugs, pushing a small braid away from her eyes.

“No. I don’t like Dr. Seuss. That’s for babies!” Lula states. Esperanza giggles.

“If you want to be a teacher, you’ll have to like Dr. Seuss. It’s like a rule.” Esperanza teases, nudging her friend in the hip. Lula says nothing, instead sticking her tiny fist in the bowl of Oobleck and playfully smearing some on Esperanza’s face. Esperanza squeals as Lula grabs a handful of green slime and takes off down the sidewalk, the pink butterflies clipped to the end of her braids flying behind her.

“Get back here, you cheater!” Esperanza shouts, running after her friend. The Oobleck slaps lewdly against the rim of the bowl as Esperanza gives chase. Lula, with a formidable head start, turns on her heel and pelts her best friend with green globules of slime. Esperanza laughs shrilly as the Oobleck spatters against her shirt.

“You’re gonna pay for that!” Esperanza promises, grabbing the dark brown arm of her friend and spinning her around. Esperanza slops half the contents of the bowl down Lula’s pink shirt, painting the yellow puppy illustration a sickly green. The laughter vanishes from Lula’s eyes.

“You dummy! This is my favorite shirt!” Lula cries, tears welling in the corners of her brown eyes. Esperanza immediately begins scraping the Oobleck from Lula’s shirt, apologizing profusely.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to. Please don’t be mad.” Esperanza wails, tears already running down her tan cheeks. Lula wipes at the Labrador illustration, a thick string of slime wiggling in the air between her hand and the shirt. Anger flashes white hot in her mind.

“I’m gonna tell my Mom! I’m gonna tell her that you ruined my favorite shirt, because you were jealous of my ribbon!” Lula vows. Esperanza shakes her head, brown curls bouncing against quaking shoulders.

“I’m sorry! I was only trying to play!”

“My Mom is going to tell your Mom, and you’re going to get grounded! And it’ll serve you right, because you were being a dummy!”

“Huu huu, fwuffy sowwy, nu mean tu be dummeh fwuffy…” Esperanza and Lula freeze mid-argument, casting two pairs of brown eyes towards a short alleyway to their right. Esperanza wipes the tears away from her cheeks, smearing a thin strand of Oobleck across her face.

“Was that…a fluffy?” Esperanza sniffles. Lula nods, a huge smile stretching across her pudgy face. Esperanza lights up as well. The two friends, like most prepubescent girls, wanted a fluffy more than any other toy on the market. However, the small housing offered by the big city they lived in made owning a fluffy difficult, especially when they required their own saferooms. Lula and Esperanza smile at each other, all conflict forgotten, as they run into the alleyway.

“I hope it’s a unicorn!” Lula admits, jumping over a large puddle of stagnant rainwater in the alley.

“I hope it’s a Fluffyshy! Or an Applefluff!” Esperanza confides, thinking of her favorite animated ponies. The forgotten bowl of Oobleck bounces in her arms, sloshing over her arms and onto the toes of her sneakers as she runs.

The two girls reach the end of the short alleyways, thin chests heaving as they step into a bedraggled parking lot. Lula casts a wary glance at the seemingly abandoned parking lot, one hand distractedly wiping the green slime off of her second place ribbon.

“I don’t see a fluffy.” Esperanza observes. She kicks at a tuft of grass breaking through a large crack in the neglected asphalt.

“Me either. Maybe it wasn’t a fluffy at all. Maybe it was a monster pretending to be a fluffy.” Lula states offhandedly, but Esperanza can see the fear her own words caused her. The two girls instinctively huddle closer together in the mouth of the alley.

“EEP! Munstah! Nu huwt gud fwuffy munstah, huu huu!” A voice calls in fear. The best friends jump in surprise, before smiling as they look at each other.

“A fluffy! Come here, little guy. We won’t hurt you! We just want to pet you!” Lula exclaims happily, bouncing on the balls of her feet in anticipation. Beside her, Esperanza quickly wipes the Oobleck off of her hands and onto her pants, not wanting to ruin the soft fluff of the fluffy.

“Be nyu mummah?” The voice asks hopefully. Lula’s eyes flicker to Esperanza as both the girls frown. Neither of them had room for a fluffy at home.

“Maybe,” Lula lies.

“Please come out so we can pet you.” Esperanza adds.

A brief scuffling of hooves against pavement can be heard in the empty parking lot, followed by a quiet sobbing.

“Huu huu, sowwy nyu mummahs. Fwuffy nu can move. How can fwuffy gib huggies if nu can move?”

“You can’t move? Where are you, little fluffy? We’ll help you.” Esperanza says. The fluffy hesitates before calling out.

“Fwuffy am beside big swishy gwassies. Huu huu, nu can move” The fluffy offers unhelpfully. Lula and Esperanza study the waist height grass that pokes through the tarmac of the parking lot. They see nothing that looks like a fluffy.

“Okay little guy, we can’t see you. You’re going to have to talk. We’ll follow the sound of your voice.” Lula offers. A sharp gasp is heard to the girls’ right.

“Gib fwuffy name? Fwuffy am Wittwe Guy? Wub new name, mummah! Pwease hewp Wittwe Guy su Wittwe Guy can gib nyu mummahs bestest huggies!” The fluffy babbles. Esperanza giggles, following Lula as she pushes aside sickly yellow grass in search of the trapped fluffy.

“Nyu mummahs hab safewoom fo’ Wittwe Guy? Wittwe Guy pwomise tu be bestest fwuffy ebah, wiww make gud poopies an’ gib bestest huggies an’ pway with mummahs aww bwight time.” The fluffy rambles, the soft sound of hooves striking the pavement reaching the girls. The best friends readjust their path and follow the sound.

“Sorry Little Guy, we don’t have a saferoom.” Lula laments. The fluffy pauses in its jabbering, but quickly continues.

“Dat am otay. Fwuffy nu need safewoom. Wiww stay in housie an’ be gud without safewoom.” Esperanza parts the grass slightly off to her right and her heart soars.

“Nyu Mummah! Gib huggies!” The fluffy shouts, raising its arms from the asphalt in the anticipation of an embrace.

“Lula, I found the fluffy! It’s so cute!” Esperanza squeals, dropping her bowl of Oobleck to the ground as she prepares to cuddle the fluffy. Lula squeezes into the gap in the tall grass beside Esperanza, picking brown seeds out of her braids.

“Nyu Mummahs! Gib huggies! Wittwe Guy wan’ huggies!” The girls step onto the pavement surrounding the fluffy, pushing aside the occasional grass that brushed at their hips. Esperanza notices that most of the grass surrounding the fluffy is trampled. The fluffy itself is partially buried beneath fallen stalks of brown grass, only its torso upwards exposed. A creeping chill climbs Esperanza’s spine as a sense of foreboding fills her. Why did the fluffy claim to be trapped?

“Aren’t you just the cutest?!” Lula compliments as she falls to her knees in front of the fluffy. The fluffy hugs her neck desperately as Lula hunches over to embrace it.

“Fwuffy nu am Da Cutest, fwuffy am Wittwe Guy! Siwwy Mummah!”

Esperanza gently lowers herself onto the grass beside Little Guy, burying her fingers in the light gray fluff between its wings. She strokes the wings, enjoying the powdery texture of the feathers. Little Guy coos in Lula’s grip, and Esperanza’s heart fills with affection. Esperanza watches jealously as Little Guy nuzzles Lula. Why did Lula get to name the fluffy and hold it first?

Esperanza’s hand travels down to the tip of Little Guy’s wings, and the fluffy flutters them in response. Esperanza smiles. She brushes aside the brown stalks of grass covering the fluffy’s backside, intent on discovering its gender. She stumbles backwards and screams in terror of what confronts her. Lula immediately ceases hugging Little Guy as she too reels away in fear. Little Guy’s head and torso fall heavily to the pavement as it is cruelly dropped.

“Huu huu, why Mummah huwt gud fwuffy? Wittwe Guy nu gib gud huggies?”

The bottom half of Little Guy was a mangled mess. Dried, dark blood clotted his fur in thick chunks, revealing the inflamed pink skin beneath. One leg ended in a cracked hoof, the coffin bone protected only by a thin stream of coagulated blood. The other back leg was twisted in an unnatural angle, the fluffy’s knee bent inward in a harsh break. The hoof on the fluffy’s twisted leg was split in multiple places, a jagged tree of fissures blooming from the pad of the crushed hoof. The sunny yellow of the fluffy’s tail was coated with feces and stiffened by dried blood. A large purple bruise, shot through with branches of deep red, peeked from beneath the gray fur along the arch of the fluffy’s rump. Little Guy looked up at the two girls piteously, large blue eyes shining with tears.

“Wittwe Guy sowwy fo’ gib scawdies tu mummahs. Nu knu what Wittwe Guy du wong, bu’ Wittwe Guy sowwy! Pwease nu weave Wittwe Guy! Am su thiwsty, an’ wub nyu mummahs.” Little Guy raises its arms in the hopes of a reassuring hug. Lula recoils in disgust, and Esperanza can see the heart break in Little Guy’s eyes. Nauseated, Esperanza gathers Little Guy’s torso in her arms, careful not to lift its lower body from the pavement. Little Guy cries softly into her dark hair as Esperanza strokes the gray fluff of its back.

“It’s okay, Little Guy. It’s not your fault, you only startled us. Are you a mare or a stallion, Little Guy?” Esperanza asks, attempting to distract the grieving fluffy.

“Wittwe Guy am dummeh, poopie, munstah stawwion dat scawe nyu mummahs, huu huu!” Little Guy cries, his tears soaking Esperanza’s neck. The girl shifts him into her lap, stroking the yellow mane that fanned across her legs. Lula leans forward, wariness decorating her dark features.

“Esperanza, this fluffy is a broken toy. We can’t take care of him, he’s too hurt.” Lula whispers. Esperanza shoots her best friend a withering glare, cradling Little Guy’s head protectively in her lap.

“Little Guy is not a toy, he’s a hurt animal that needs my help. I can’t just leave him.” She whispers back fiercely. Lula sighs.

“You’re not a veterinarian! We can’t take care of him, we don’t even have a place to keep him. Let’s just leave him…Come on, we can go to my house and play video games. I promise not to tell my Mom what you did to my shirt.” Lula pleads, not even bothering to keep her voice low. Little Guy’s sobs wrack his mangled form as he processes Lula’s statement.

“Pwease nu weave Wittwe Guy. Wittwe Guy nebah hab Mummah before. Now hab two mummahs! Pwease, boo-boos nu eben huwt nu mowe! Wittwe Guy can stiww gib huggies an’ pway aww bwight time with Mummahs!” Little Guy bargains, his face buried in the coarse cloth of Esperanza’s shorts, “An’ nu…nu am toysie. Fwuffy am awive…”

Esperanza glares at Lula. Lula glances at the quivering fluffy in her friend’s lap, watching the sobs wrack his small body. She sighs before running her fingers through the tangled mess of yellow that served as his mane.

“Okay Esperanza. Okay. We’ll fix him.” Lula promises.

The two girls pet the pegasus stallion until his river of tears run dry. His body shakes in Esperanza’s grip as he sniffles.

“Pwease Mummahs, can fwuffy hab wawa? Am su thiwsty.” Little Guy croaks.

“I have a water bottle in my book bag.” Esperanza states simply. She gently lifts Little Guy’s head and slides him out of her lap. Lula looks mildly disgusted when she places the fluffy against her outstretched leg, but says nothing. Esperanza shrugs her book bag off her shoulder and pulls out her water bottle. She fetches her bowl of Oobleck, dumping the green slime onto the pavement and wiping away as much as she could from the bowl with a handful of brittle grass. She carries to bowl to her reclining friend and fills it with water. She sets it in front of Little Guy, who gulps down the water greedily.

Little Guy pulls away with a soaked muzzle, laying his head across Lula’s knee. Lula screws up her face in aggravation as water dribbles onto her skirt.

“Fankyoo fo’ wawa, Mummahs. Wittwe Guy was very fiwsty.” Esperanza smiles, scratching Little Guy behind his ear.

“We’re going to make you better, Little Guy. We’re going to heal you.” Esperanza vows. Little Guy shifts contentedly on Lula’s knee, wrapping his front legs around her leg in a tight hug. Lula smiles lightly, burying her fingers in the fluffy’s mane.

“Wittwe Guy knu. Wittwe Guy hab da bestest Mummahs in da whowe wowwd.”

The two friends and the crippled fluffy relax in the flattened grass in silence, Little Guy enjoying the soft cuddles the second-graders gave him. The girls occasionally glance at each other, their eyes measuring the progress of the setting sun. The fluffy revels in the tiny hands petting him, and his eyes struggle to stay open under the luxurious ministrations of the pair.

“Wittwe Guy am vewy sweepy. Can gu tu nyu home nao?” He yawns. The best friends make eye contact over the drowsy fluffy.

“No we…we can’t, Little Guy. We can’t take you with us.” Esperanza breaks the news softly. Little Guy rolls over in her grip, his damaged legs slamming against the pavement with a meaty slap. Little Guy seems not to notice, his blue eyes fixed on the girls.

“Bu’ yu am Mummahs. Am ‘sposed tu take fwuffy home, an’ gib housie.”

“We don’t have a housie to give you. We’re only kids. We’ll have to leave you here.” Lula mutters shamefacedly.

Little Guy stares from one girl to the next, his muzzle open in shock, “Mummahs nu wan’ Wittwe Guy nu mowe?” He asks, eyes brimming with tears. Esperanza wipes them away and gently ruffles his mane.

“Of course we want you. We just can’t keep you at home with us. You’ll have to live here. We’ll visit you every day after school, I promise.”

“Yeah, and tomorrow we’ll even clean you up. Maybe we can bring you some toys and food!” Lula jumps in, a smile lighting up her face as she realizes she will finally have a pet. Esperanza nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah, definitely!”

“Mummahs pwomise tu come back tu Wittwe Guy? After schoow?” Little Guy asks hopefully. The girls nod in unison. Little Guy taps his hooves thoughtfully against the pavement.

“Otay. Wittwe Guy wiww wait fo’ Mummahs.”

“Thank you for understanding, Little Guy. You’re a good fluffy.” Esperanza says. Little Guy’s heart soars from the praise, a huge smile touching his muzzle for the first time since he was injured.

“Am gud fwuffy? Fankyoo Mummah, Fankyoo! Wittwe Guy wubs yu’! An’ yu, Oddah Mummah!” Little Guy exclaims. The girls smile, ruffling the fluffy’s mane and scratching him behind the ears. Esperanza pulls her book bag back on and pours the rest of her water into the bowl. The pair pat Little Guy on the head and turn to leave.

“Mummahs? Pwease move Wittwe Guy? Sky-baww shine on Wittwe Guy aww bwight time, make fwuffy vewy fiwsty.”

Esperanza nods, moving to the destroyed legs of the fluffy, while Lula prepares to grab his torso. Esperanza takes Little Guy’s shattered hooves in her hands and lifts them gently at the same time Lula circles her arms around his torso. Little Guy’s tail pulls away from the concrete with a brittle, crackling sound and remains stiffly shaped. Esperanza crinkles her nose as the rancid smell of feces and congealed blood caresses her nostrils.

“Upsies! Yay!” Little Guy exclaims, flapping his tiny wings as he is carried across the parking lot.

“I think that is a good spot.” Lula says, glancing over her shoulder at the twisted form of a scrawny beech tree, pressed against the wall of a building that neighbored the parking lot. The girls readjust their path, carrying the injured fluffy over the hot asphalt. The girls reach the tree and gently lower Little Guy into the green grass. Little Guy stretches.

“Dis spot am da bestest spot. Fankyoo Mummahs. Wittwe Guy wiww stay hewe, and num da gwassies.”

The girls smile as Esperanza lays the bowl of water next to their new pet, “We’ll see you tomorrow, Little Guy.” Lula promises.

“Otay Oddah Mummah. Wittwe Guy wub yu’. An’ wub Mummah, tu.” Little Guy raises his legs for hugs, and the prepubescent girls quickly oblige.


The next day finds the two young girls huddled beneath the anemic shade of the beech tree. A gray fluffy pounds his front hooves against his bed of soft grass exuberantly in the space between the Esperanza’s cocked knees. High pitched giggling plays across the abandoned parking lot.

“An’-An’ dat am when Sissie wearn how ‘portant gud poopies awe!” Little Guy concludes, his wings fluttering joyously. The girls roar with laughter, tears rolling down their red cheeks.

“Oh my gosh Little Guy, you’re so funny!” Esperanza giggles, ruffling his freshly-brushed yellow mane. Lula nods in agreement, pulling her purple Barbie hairbrush through his tail.

“I’m going to lift your leg now, Little Guy, okay? I need to clean your tummy.” Esperanza warns.

“Otay Mummah.”

Esperanza gently grabs the fluffy’s ankle above his shattered hoof, pulling the leg up as Lula slides her hands beneath Little Guy’s hip. The two friends flip the gray stallion onto his back. The sickly smell of dried urine fills the air and Lula gags.

“Wittwe Guy am wong way upsies!” Little Guy chuckles, kicking his front hooves happily. His bottom half remains unresponsive.

“I’m going to clean you now. Don’t be scared, the rag will be cold.” Esperanza dips a washrag into Little Guy’s water bowl. She presses the damp rag against the thin fluffy of Little Guy’s pelvis, wiping away the dried remnants of dirt, blood, and urine. Little Guy watches the leaves overhead blow in the warm spring breeze. He flutters his wings weakly, wishing he could fly the way his fluffy Mummah promised him all wingie-fluffies could.

“Can you feel this?” Esperanza asks, rubbing the cold rag against a livid purple bruise on Little Guy’s stomach.

“Nu feew nuffin, Mummah. Weggies an’ tummeh an’ speshuw pwace an’ poopie pwace an’ taiw nu wisten tu Wittwe Guy nu mowe. Bu’ if nu can feew, nu can hab huwties, su am gud. Wight Mummahs?” Esperanza glances worriedly at Lula, who paused in her brushing of the pegasus’s sunny tail.

“I’m…I’m sure it’s nothing.” Lula mutters, confusion stitching her dark eyebrows. Esperanza swallows the lump of worry in her throat.

“Yeah Little Guy, it’s nothing. It’ll go away.” Esperanza promises, her mind traveling to memories of an extended vacation to Mexico, where she watched her Abuela struggle to adjust to life in a wheelchair after an accident left her paralyzed from the waist down.

“Dat am gud. Wittwe Guy wouwd wike tu hab wawkies again, eben if hab huwties.”

Esperanza dips the soiled rag back into the bowl, squeezing a cloud of brown into the already polluted water. The smell of feces clings to the hands of the two girls, but finally Little Guy is clean. Lula and Esperanza roll the fluffy back onto his stomach, spreading out his two damaged legs behind him. Lula settles herself behind Little Guy, gathering his tail in her hand and picking away the sickly yellow grass that camouflaged itself in the long strands.

“Little Guy…what happened to you?” She asks softly.

Sadness darkens Little Guy’s blue eyes. He presses his ears back against his skull, “Wittwe Mummahs nu need tu heaw dat stowy. Nu wan’ tu gib scawdies tu Mummah o’ Oddah Mummah.”

Esperanza cups Little Guy’s face in her hand, “We need to know so we can help you.” Little Guy glances over his shoulder at his shattered legs. Lula pets his rump encouragingly.

“Otay. Wiww teww Mummahs.” Little Guy takes a deep breath, and begins, " Wittwe Guy was su sweepie, an’ hab biggest tummeh-owwies. Wittwe Guy knu about taww swishy gwassies pwace, bu’ Wittwe Guy fwuffy Mummah teww Wittle Guy an’ Sissie tu nu go dere. Bu’ Wittwe Guy hab biggest tummeh-owwies, su nu wisten tu wha’ fwuffy Mummah say."

“One bwight time, Wittwe Guy and Sissie sneaky away from nestie when fwuffy Mummah weave tu find nummies. We gu tu taww swishy gwassies pwace. Taww swishy gwassies am su fun! Wittwe Guy an’ Sissie pway aww bwight-time, bu’ when gu back tu nestie, fwuffy Mummah am mad. Bu’ fwuffy Mummah hab biggest heawt happies dat Wittwe Guy an’ Sissies am otay, tu.” Little Guy smiles in remembrance of his mother and sister.

One bwight time, fwuffy Mummah twy tu gib Wittwe Guy an’ Sissies miwkies, bu’ Wittwe Guy an’ Sissie nu wan’. Fwuffy Mummah git wowstest heawt huwties, an’ say dat babbehs nu need Fwuffy Mummah nu mowe. Fwuffy Mummah say am time fo’ babbehs to find hoomin Mummah o’ Daddeh. Wittwe Guy an’ Sissie hab saddies, bu’ awso hab happies becawse can hab big fwuffy nummies an’ housie an’ toysie when find new Mummah o’Daddeh. Befowe babbehs weave, Fwuffy Mummah make babbehs pwomise nu tu gu tu taww swishy gwashies ebah again. Wittwe Guy an’ Sissie pwomise." At this, Little Guy’s lip trembles in sadness.

“Sissie am vewy pwetty fwuffy, hab white fwuff, an’ yewwow mane wike Wittwe Guy. Sissie fin’ Nyu Mummah vewy fast. Bu’ when Sissie ask if Nyu Mummah would gib housie tu Wittwe Guy, meanie wady say nu! Sissie nu wan’ tu weave Wittwe Guy, bu’ meanie hoomin munstah Nyu Mummah take Sissie anyway! Huu huu, miss Sissie, miss Fwuffy Mummah!” Little Guy wails, fat tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Esperanza patiently wipes them away.

Little Guy sniffles before continuing, “Wittwe Guy was awone, an’ su cowd. Wittwe guy went back to boxie whewe Fwuffy Mummah wive,bu’ Fwuffy Mummah nu dere anymowe. Boxie housie was gone tu, su Wittwe Guy went back tu taww swishy gwassie pwace, eben though pwomise Fwuffy Mummah dat Wittwe Guy nu wouwd! Am bad fwuffy!”

“Wittwe Guy….Wittwe Guy buiwd nestie in da taww swishy gwassies pwace. Gib stompies to taww swishy gwassies, su dey am showt nestie gwassies. Den num some gwassies. Wittwe Guy hab biggest scawdies, because nu hab Fwuffy Mummah o’ Sissie fo’ fwuffpiwe. Bu’ hab sweepies.” Little Guy takes a deep breathe.

“Wittwe Guy wake up becawse heaw metaw vwoom-vwoom munstah cwose tu nestie. Befowe Wittwe Guy couwd wun away, metaw vwoom-vwoom munstah gib Wittle Guy wowstest weggie huwties! Dey am wowstest huwties ebah! Bu’ when metaw vwoom-vwoom munstah weave, nu hab huwties nu mowe. Wittwe Guy make wots o’ boo-boo juice and scawdy poopies, bu’ nu huwt nu mowe. Weggies an’ speshuw pwace an’ poopie pwace an’ taiw an’ tummeh nu wisten tu Wittwe Guy nu mowe, bu’ at weast dey nu gib huwties.”

“Wittwe Guy shouwd hab wistened tu Fwuffy Mummah.” He concludes sadly, laying his gray muzzle against his outstretched foreleg. Lula and Esperanza stare at each other, absorbing Little Guy’s tale. Lula clears her throat loudly.

“We brought you something, Little Guy. So you won’t be so bored.” She says awkwardly. Esperanza reaches desperately for her bookbag, happy for the distraction. Little Guy perks up immediately.

“Hab toysies? Skettis?” He asks, swiveling his ears in anticipation.

"Well, sorta toysies."Esperanza says, pulling a copy of “Bartholomew and the Oobleck” from her book bag. Little Guy clops his hooves against the grass happily.

“Toysies! Nu hab toysies befowe! Wittwe Guy hab bestest Mummahs ebah!” The girls giggle at his compliment as Esperanza slides the book between his forelegs.

“Please be careful with it. It’s the library’s.”

Little Guy nods before opening the book. His face lights up at the whimsical illustrations, “Pwetty pictures!” He gasps.

The best friends watch as their shared pet flips through the book at random, gasping at some pages while laughing at others. Some he simply stares at with a smile on his face before turning them. Lula decorates the fluffy’s tail with small braids to match her own as he plays with the short book. Once he reaches the end he pauses, then turns back to the first page. His grin threatens to break his face as the same illustrations meet his gaze.

“Dis am da bestest toysie. Fankyoo Mummah an’ Oddah Mummah.” Little Guy says earnestly. Lula scratches him between his wings as Esperanza pets his neck.

“You’re welcome.” Esperanza breathes, love for the simple creature filling her heart.


Esperanza had convinced her parents to give her all of her allowance three days in advance, while Lula had smashed open her purple piggybank. Together the girls managed to pool $12.72, which they took eagerly to the nearest Fluffies and Stuffies store. As soon as they entered, they were assaulted with calls of “Be Nyu Mummah?” and “Wittwe hoomins wan’ wittwe babbeh fo’ huggies an’ wub?” The girls skirt the employees who were busily cleaning fluffy cages and slip down the toy aisle to search undisturbed.

After much deliberation and minor bickering, the second-graders settled on a plush rabbit, a set of four blocks, a shiny blue ball, and a small pillow. The girls walked to the counter and watched nervously as the cashier rang up their items. Neither of them were particularly good at math, but they were proud when their total settled at $10. 09. Esperanza dropped a handful of crumpled bills and loose change onto the counter, and the cashier smiled indulgently as she counted out the money and handed the girls back their change.

“Wow, two dollars left! We can buy Little Guy some spaghetti!” Lula proclaimed as they exited the shop, swinging the bag of purchase in her dark hand. Esperanza nodded, shoving the change into her pocket.


“Oh Little Guy! Guess what we got you!” Lula calls happily as she and Esperanza exit the mouth of the alleyway.

“Huu huu! Oddah Mummah! Pwease hewp Wittle Guy! Huu huu!” Lula’s brown eyes go wide with fear as she sprints through the tall grass to the sobbing form of the gray pegasus, Esperanza hot on her heels. They skid to a stop in front of the crying fluffy, a cloud of dust erupting in front of their toes.

“What is it Little Guy? What’s wrong?” Esperanza asks, eyes scanning the mangled but otherwise fine fluffy.

“Meanie tiny munstahs gib Wittwe Guy buwnie ouchies! Huu huu!”

“What? I don’t see any-oh my gosh!” Lula shouts, dropping the bag of fluffy toys as she swipes a biting ant away from Little Guy’s rump.

“I thought you couldn’t feel down there? Are you getting better?” Esperanza asks hopefully, rolling her eyes at the fluffy’s overreaction. Little Guy continues to sob into the grass.

“Tummeh huwties! Tummeh huwties, huu huu!”

“Are you hungry?” Lula asks confusedly.

“NUUUUUU! Meanie tiny munstahs gib ouchies!”

The color drains from Esperanza’s amber face as she notices a red ant trundle from beneath Little Guy’s hoof. She drops to her knees and quickly flips Little Guy over onto his back, exposing a red swarm of ants colonizing the soft underbelly of the fluffy. The ants scatter between the wisps of gray fluff, blazing new paths across inflamed skin as they attempt to escape from the sudden sunlight. Lula screams in terror, slapping at the pests instinctively as they flee. The ants clamp down on the exposed flesh of the pegasus in retaliation. Esperanza staggers to her feet, grabbing Little Guy’s water bowl and sloshing it across the sobbing fluffy and her distraught friend. The ants halt in their frantic escape, allowing Esperanza enough time to pull off her shirt and scrub it against the tortured stomach of the disabled fluffy. The ants roll away in mangled chunks, mouth stubbornly buried in the hot meat of their attempted meal. Lula removes her shirt as well, her head full of braids shaking as she angrily rubbed the malicious ants away from her defenseless pet.

“Huu huu, wan’ die, wan’ die!” Little Guy cries, writhing in the grass. Lula gently picks him up, cradling him in her bare arms as Esperanza pulls the stubborn pinschers away from the fluffy’s pink skin.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay. We’re here now.” Lula soothes. Little Guy sobs quietly as Lula rocks him gently in her arms. Esperanza straightens up, curls bouncing over naked shoulders. She drops the handful of dead ants to the ground, tears welled in her brown eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Little Guy.” She whispers, gathering the fluffy and her best friend in an apologetic hug. The fluffy cries between the bare chests of his Mummahs, wishing he was instead in the embrace of death.


“What do we do?” Lula whispers over the sleeping form of Little Guy. The pegasus lay upon the pillow the girls had bought, afraid to let even a strand of his yellow tail touch the ground. Lula had braided it for him with shaking hands to alleviate his fear.

“I don’t know.” Esperanza groans, burying her head in the valley between her raised knees. Silence falls between the friends. Lula squirts an ample amount of anti-itch cream on her fingers and rubs it against the swollen underbelly of the fluffy. The swarm of ants had done little lasting damage to the fluffy, although a rash of roughly a dozen bites littered Little Guy’s belly. The gray stallion kicks his foreleg lightly in his sleep. His rear legs remain as unresponsive as always.

“I could ask my parents about keeping him.” Esperanza offers softly, laying a hand decorated with a two ant bites against Little Guy’s cheek. Lula scoots the plush rabbit closer to Little Guy’s chest, but says nothing.


“No. Absolutely not.” Esperanza’s Mother says, waving her impaled broccoli on a fork. Esperanza ceases her nervous shifting of rice on her plate.

“But Mamá, fluffies are tiny. It can stay in my room! I’ll clean up after it, and play with it, and keep it happy!” Esperanza pleads, avoiding mentioning that she already had a fluffy in mind.

“You don’t have room for a fluffy! Besides, if you got a fluffy, that means you’d have to come straight home afterschool. You’d have to spend all your allowance on fluffy food and litter, plus toys and anything else it needs.”

“Mamá, I don’t care! I’ll take good care of my fluffy, you’ll never even know that it’s here!” Esperanza says, her eyes shining with unshed tears. Little Guy was counting on her!

“Lidia, it wouldn’t hurt to let her have a fluffy. She’s almost nine.” Esperanza’s Papá, a burly man with a mustache so large it covered his lips, said. Esperanza stared at her Mamá, hope soaring in her heart.

Esperanza’s Mamá hesitated, chewing and swallowing a stalk of broccoli slowly. She lightly patted her lips with a napkin, careful not to smear her lipstick, “I know Esperanza is growing up. But a fluffy is a huge commitment to make. She should start smaller, with a goldfish, or maybe a hamster. How’s that, honey? Hamsters are fluffy.”

Esperanza stood up from the table angrily, hot tears spilling over the brims of her eyes. She dropped her fork loudly on her plate, “Please Mamá, I want a fluffy more than anything! Please!”

Mamá pauses, heavily lidded brown eyes examining her daughter. Her eyes silently meet her husband’s across the table. He gives a small nod, “Papá and I will talk about it.” She says simply. Esperanza inhales deeply and sits down, intent on behaving as well as possible.


“So did you talk to your parents about…you know.” Lula murmurs, speaking in code so the gray pegasus happily munching on an apple between the girls doesn’t get suspicious. Esperanza nods, continuing to shred grass with her dainty fingers.

“Yeah. They said they would talk about it. I think…they may say yes.” Esperanza says haltingly, rapping her fist against the gnarled trunk of the beech tree. Lula absentmindedly picks at a yellow braid that fell across Little Guy’s forehead. He leans thankfully into the attention.

“How long before you know for sure? I don’t want a repeat of yesterday.” Lula confides, the image of hundreds of ants covering Little Guy flashing to the front of her mind. The small hairs on her arms raise. Esperanza shrugs.

“I don’t know.”

Little Guy burps, stretching as he pushes aside the core of his apple. Esperanza quickly grabbed it and laid it on top of the red ant hill. She and Lula assumed that if they fed the ants, they would leave Little Guy alone. So far, their ingenious plan seemed to be working. Little Guy had complained of no more “buwnie ouchies”.

Lula removed the blue ball from a crook in the beech tree. Little Guy pounded his hooves excitedly as she rolled it towards him, batting it back at her with his muzzle. He laughed riotously with each roll.

“How are your legs today?” Esperanza asks, lifting one of his legs and examining the shattered hoof. She crinkled her nose when a dribble of pus leaked down the deep crack.

“Am otay. Stiww nu can feew o’ move.” Little Guy states simply, pausing in his play, “Bu’ as wong as Mummah an’ Oddah Mummah come tu pway wif Wittwe Guy, nu need to move. Nu eben hab tu make poopies nu mowe.” Esperanza and Lula glance at each other over the head of the fluffy. They may have only been in the second grade, but they knew that Little Guy was not exhibiting the signs of a healthy digestive system.

‘When was the last time you, er, made poopies?" Lula asks. Little Guy screws up his muzzle in concentration.

“The bwight time after metaw vwoom-vwoom munstah huwt Wittwe Guy. Same bwight time dat Mummahs find Wittwe Guy.”

“So three days,” Esperanza adds, “That’s not so bad.”

Lula shrugs in her tank top, running her hand over the large bruise on Little Guy’s hip that seemed to darken with each day.


Esperanza’s Papá made spaghetti for his daughter and Lula. It was a Saturday, and Lula was spending the night, as usual.

“Are you sure you don’t want anymore? It is unusual for you to eat so little.” Papá remarks, eyeing the pitiful portion of pasta on his daughter’ plate. She shakes her head, brunette curls bouncing.

“No Papá, I want to save some for lunch tomorrow. You and Mamá won’t be home, and I don’t want a peanut butter sandwich again!” Esperanza lies.

“You don’t plan on sneaking it out and feeding it to some feral, do you?” Papá teases, his black eyes crinkling in laughter. Lula forces a laugh a bit too loudly.

“That’s funny, Mr. Gutierrez!” Lula exclaims. Papá laughs too, but turns back to his pot of spaghetti, suspicion tugging at the edge of his mind.


Esperanza and Lula saw Mamá and Papá out of the door the next morning, and were on the leftover spaghetti like wolves as soon as both cars pulled out of the apartment’s parking deck.

“Don’t get too much! We don’t want them to get suspicious!” Esperanza chastises as Lula heaps generous forkfuls of spaghetti into the plastic container.

“We’ll just say I ate some before I went home. I don’t want Little Guy to get hungry.” Lula says, emptying half the bowl of pasta into the plastic container and stowing it in her back pack. Esperanza grabs a bottle of water to refill Little Guy’s water bowl and the best friends vacate the apartment.

“He’s going to love this.” Lula says giddily, rounding the edge of the alleyway that opened into the abandoned parking lot. Esperanza had to jog to keep up with her longer-legged friend. The girls enter the hot parking lot, eyes instantly alighting on the gray fluffy, who was flipping slowly through the library book Esperanza had loaned him. His distorted legs stretched out behind him in two swollen, misshapen arcs.

“Hewwo Mummah an’ Oddah Mummah.” Little Guy greets, barely lifting his eyes from the pages of the book.

“How are you feeling today?” Lula asks, sitting beside the fluffy and sliding her book bag off her shoulder.

“Am feewing otay. Weggies an’ poopie pwace an’ speshuw pwace an’ taiw stiww nu wisten tu Wittwe Guy. Tummeh hab huwties from meanie bitey munstahs, bu’ nu am wowstest owwies wike wast bwight time. Am happy tu see Mummahs. Mummahs come tu pway with Wittwe Guy earwy?” Little Guy asks, looking up at Esperanza hopefully. Esperanza noticed that the whites of his eyes had taken on a yellowish tint.

“We did. There’s no school today, so we can play all day if you like!”

“YAY!” Little Guy shouts, his high-pitched voice filling the parking lot. He nuzzles the borrowed book away, shifting happily on his pillow.

“Are you hungry?” Lula asks the fluffy, unable to contain her excitement any longer.

“Yes, Wittwe Guy am vewy hungwy. Twy tu num gwassie nummies, bu’ am tu scawed tu weave soft piwwow fwiend.” Little Guy says. Esperanza notices the grass directly around the pillow had been chewed down to the root.

“Well, Mummah and I have got something for you.” Lula was already unzipping her book bag. Little Guy perks up his ears in excitement.

“Am sketties?” He asks hopefully. Esperanza sits on the ground in front of the fluffy, flicking away a wandering red ant.

“That’s right!” Lula says, pulling the plastic container of spaghetti out of her bag with a flourish. Little Guy practically vibrates in place, drool gathering in the corners of his mouth. He inhales deeply as Lula pops the lid and the smell of garlic fills the air.

“Fankyoo Mummahs! Fankyoo! Wittwe Guy nebah hab sketties befowe! Fwuffy Mummah say dat sketties am da bestest nummies ebah!”

Lula slides the bowl of spaghetti in front of the fluffy. He gasps before burying his muzzle in the food.

“Fankyoo Mummahs! Wub yu! Am bestest nummies ebah!” Little Guy pauses in his feasting to scoot forward on his pillow to better reach the bowl. His paralyzed legs drag against the soft pillow. Small droplets of blood bloom on the stretched skin, dribbling yellow pus onto the gray fur of the fluffy. Esperanza notices. She lays her hand on the deep purple bruise that wrapped around Little Guy’s hip and presses forcefully. Little Guy does not react.

“Have you made poopies today, Little Guy?” The fluffy lifts a sauce encrusted muzzle from the bowl and shakes his head.

“Nu, nu hab tu make poopies.” He returns to his meal. Esperanza lifts a maimed leg from the blue pillow, the reddened flesh beneath her hand flashing white at her touch. Esperanza notes a spindly network of dark veins climbing the mangled limb. She runs her hand gently over the cracks in the pegasus’s hoof. Thick heat fills her hand as a large pustule bursts, drenching her tan palm in chunks of white infection. She shudders, dropping the leg and wiping her hand quickly in the grass. Little Guy does not notice.

The gray stallion burps as he finishes his meal, “Fankyoo fo’ bestest nummies ebah, Mummahs. Wittwe Guy wub sketties, bu’ wub Mummahs eben mowe. Wan’ pway nao?”

Lula and Esperanza played with Little Guy for hours, enjoying the fluffy the way all fluffies wanted to be enjoyed. The smiled indulgently as Little Guy stacked his blocks three high, and clapped their hands in admiration when he finally managed to balance the fourth on his tiny tower. They rolled the ball in a crooked triangle, Lula to Esperanza, Esperanza to Little Guy, and Little Guy to Lula. They laughed as Lula made the plush rabbit dance for the fluffy, and laughed even harder when Little Guy puffed up his cheeks in agitation when Lula made the rabbit hug Esperanza.

“Can pwease pway Pegasus, nao?” Little Guy asks politely, stretching his front legs into the “gib huggies” position. Esperanza smiles, lifting the fluffy into her arms.

“Wub upsies.” Little Guy coos, wrapping his front hooves around the young girl’s neck. Lula grabs Little Guy behind his wings and lifts him out of Esperanza’s arms. The fluffy flutters his wings in anticipation.

“Wub pway Pegasus, Pegasus am bestest game.” Little Guy babbles as Lula positions him in her back. Esperanza pushes Lula’s black braids away from Little Guy’s face. She then places her hand on the swollen rump of the fluffy, shoving him until he could firmly wrap his arms around the front of Lula’s neck. The result is a bizarre version of Piggyback. Lula places her hands firmly on the clinging hooves of Little Guy and begins the game with a fast walk.

Little Guy laughs in joy, unfurling his tiny wings. Lula picks up her speed to a slow jog. The wind begins tugging at Little Guy’s wings and he flaps them from the stimulus. Esperanza follows close behind, ready to catch the fluffy if he were to fall backwards. Lula grips Little Guy’s fore-hooves more aggressively and transforms her slow jog into a solid run. Little Guy shrieks in laughter, flapping his gray wings in ecstasy. He was the fastest fluffy in the world!

The crippled legs of Little Guy slapped against the Lula’s smooth back as she ran, spattering her shirt in a mixture of blood and pus as the various sores covering the fluffy burst on impact. Little Guy’s braided yellow tail swayed with the rise and fall of Lula’s sprinting hips. Esperanza struggled to keep up with her taller friend and the giggling pegasus that bounced against her back as they ran around the parking lot.

Tall, brown grass swished by the playing friends, slapping the girls with blades like whips as they ran. Sneakers pounded against crumbling asphalt. Lula skipped and ran, each movement eliciting a squeal of laughter from Little Guy. The fluffy flapped his wings rapidly, closing his eyes as he pretended to fly. Esperanza fell rapidly behind, her thin chest contracting as she sucked in great gasps of air.

“Fastew! Fastew! Pwease Oddah Mummah!” Lula smiled and obliged, her long legs stretching in the spring sunlight. Esperanza stopped and buckled her hands against her knees, hunched over as she inhaled deeply.

A small chunk of dislodged asphalt was all it took to darken the day. Lula’s heel came down on the jagged piece of pavement and she stumbled. Her brown eyes widened in surprise, watching as the cracked parking lot came ever closer. She acted on instinct alone, flinging out her hands in self-preservation. Little Guy, eyes squeezed shut in happiness, slipped from her back. Esperanza, crouched over and breathing roughly, was not there to catch him.

Two cracks filled the air almost simultaneously. Lula hit the asphalt first, arms outstretched in protection of her face. Little Guy fell to the pavement in a crumpled heap, a wet crunch accompanying his landing. Two cries tore the spring open.

“SCREEEEEEEEE!”

“AHHHHHHHHH!”

“SCREEEEEEEEE!”

Esperanza whipped her head up, adrenaline pounding through her veins as she jogged over to her fallen friends. Lula lay on her back, writhing in pain, her right hand wrapped around the wrist of the left. Her face was scrunched up in pain, cheeks bright red as she cried. Her right ankle was twisted in an unnatural angle.

“Get Mom, get Mom, please Esperanza, it hurts so bad!” Lula sobs, rolling on the ground in agony.

“SCREEEEEEEE! WAN’ DIE! WAN’ DIE!” The shattered form of Little Guy screamed inches from Lula’s feet. Esperanza starts toward him.

“Just go! I’ll take care of him, just go! Please! Please get Mom!” Lula cries, trails of snot flowing over her bloodied lips. Esperanza turns on her heel and runs.


The young girl skids to a stop in front of Mrs. Jones’s apartment door. She pounds her fist desperately against the peeling white paint.

“Mrs. Jones, Mrs. Jones, Lula is hurt, she’s hurt really bad!” Esperanza screams, her tears making her sentences almost incoherent. A door four doors down swings open.

“Esperanza? What’s going on?” Mr. Gutierrez steps out of his apartment, the sandwich from his lunch break clenched in his muscular hand. Esperanza changes tactics, latching on to the front of her Papá’s tank top.

“Lula is hurt! Please Papá, we need to go help her!” The color drains from the man’s face. He drops his sandwich is shock, turning back into the apartment.

“How bad is she hurt?” He calls from inside. Esperanza doesn’t answer, thinking about her best friend and the bloody mess that was Little Guy as she sobbed into her balled fists. Papá rushes out of the apartment, an emergency first-aid kit clenched in his sinewy hand.

“Honey you have to take me to her, you have to take me so I can help.” He consoles his daughter in a rush. Esperanza wipes her tears away and grabs her father’s wrist, tugging him quickly towards the accident sight.


“WAN’ DIE WAN’ DIE WAN’DIE HUU HUU HUU!”

“No, don’t say that Little Guy, it’ll be okay, I promise!”

Esperanza and Papá enter the parking lot in a frenzy, the young girl swiping away the tall brown grass as she leads her father to the source of the screams.

“PWEASE WET WITTWE GUY HAB FOWEVAH SWEEPIES WAN’ DIE WAN’ DIE!” Esperanza and her Papá hear, pushing aside the grass. Lula sat on the hot pavement, her twisted ankle swelling out of her shoe and her wrist clutched close to her body. She had managed to scoot herself over to Little Guy. The fluffy sobbed, his head stretched across Lula’s knee.

Little Guy’s back right leg was nothing more than a gaping socket and a leaking mess of meat. Blood pumped freely from the amputated stub. The remainder of his leg lay a few feet away, obviously kicked aside by a disgusted Lula. It baked in the spring sunlight, a dark trail of blood smeared across the pavement from its disposal. Little Guy’s hip was twisted sharply to the right, exposing his raw belly. An army of cuts claimed the soft stomach from where he had slid across the rugged asphalt. Miniature rocks clung to the matted fur. His back left leg basked in the sun, a smattering of swelled pustules shining proudly.

“WAN’ DIE WAN’ DIE WAN’ D-” Little Guy’s voice cracks and he lapses into desperate sobbing, kicking his front hooves in agony. His left foreleg scrapes across the pavement, a large chunk of hoof missing. His other leg twitched spasmodically, a jagged point of white bone jutting towards the sky.

“Please help him, please help him.” Lula sobs as Papá crouches in front of her, removing her sneaker to check her ankle. She bats at him with scraped hands, intent on getting medical help for her fluffy. Esperanza watched the scene numbly, walking as if in a dream to the head of Little Guy. He gazes up at her with pleading blue eyes. The fur beneath his eyes was wet with tears, painting two dark gray streaks down his cheeks.

“Pwease gib fowevah sweepies, Mummah. Pwease. Wan’ die.” His broken voice is little more than a whisper. Esperanza’s eyes fill with tears and she shakes her head.

“I can’t, I can’t, I’m so sorry.” She sobs, pressing her forehead against the fluffy’s yellow mane. Her heart pounds desperately, the agony of heartbreak possessing her.

“Pwease. Pwease.” Little Guy begs, his muzzle hanging open as he struggles to form words. Blood continues to pour from the stub of his leg, his heart offering his life to the asphalt of the uncaring earth.

“You’re gonna be fine, I swear. We’re gonna play and eat spaghetti and you can sleep in my bed with me. I’ll be the best Mummah ever, I promise. Nothing will ever hurt you again.” The little girl blubbers, clinging to the gray neck of the stallion. He extends one wing wearily over her back.

“Yu am aweady…aweady da bestest Mummah in da wowwd…” He gasps, the sticky fog of death descending over his blue eyes. Esperanza cries harder, shaking as the fluffy in her grasp shudders. Lula leans forward over the top of Papá’s head and caresses a velvety ear of the pegasus. The corners of his mouth raise up in a weak semblance of a smile.

“Fankyoo…Fanyoo fo’ be bestest Mummahs ebah.” Little Guy breathes. His eyes flutter closed and his wing drops from Esperanza’s back.

“Am weady fo’ fowevah sweepies.” He twitches in Esperanza’s arms as Lula leans up to embrace him as well. Papá delicately lays Lula’s throbbing ankle on the asphalt as he reaches between the girls. He lovingly takes the head of the gray stallion into his large hand. A blue eye drifts open. It travels between the two sobbing girls.

“Wittwe Guy wub Mummahs su much. Fankyoo fo’ wub Wittwe Guy tu. Am bestest Mummahs eba-” Papá twists Little Guy’s head, and his neck breaks with a fragile pop. The pegasus slumps lifelessly in the dual embrace of the girls, his muzzle forming the shape of his unfinished sentence. The spring is crippled by the entwined sobs of the mourning best friends.


Papá carries the small shoebox out of the apartment and into the lonely, weed-choked parking lot. Esperanza and Lula wait for him, their hands clasped tightly. Lula’s fractured ankle screams in protest inside its boot, but she ignores it. The doctor advised her to stay off of it, but he simply didn’t understand how important Little Guy was.

A hole gapes in the soft grass beneath the beech tree, a blue pillow covering the compacted dirt at the bottom. Red ants trundle around the edge of the pit. Papá straightens his tie beneath his freshly trimmed mustache, distracting himself as he notices the tears swelling in the children’s eyes. They hug each other close, Esperanza being careful not to bump the cast that covered Lula’s hand and wrist.

The best friends and Papá stand silently before the hole carved in the earth. A cool breeze catches the flowing skirts of the girls. The leaves dance in the trees. Papá kneels before the pit and gently lowers the shoe box down into it. The pillow hugs the box as Esperanza steps forward, a baby’s blanket clutched tightly in her small fist. She spreads it over the top of the shoe box. Tears stream down her face.

“You were the best fluffy I could have ever asked for.” She whispers. Lula crouches with difficulty, wrapping her arms around the quaking shoulders of her friend.

“We love you so much.” She adds. The girls stand and step back as Papá raises himself from the ground. He grabs a shovel leaned against the trunk of the beech tree. Esperanza and Lula avert their eyes, not wishing to watch as Papá laid the remains of Little Guy to rest.

They dig loudly in Lula’s book bag, drowning out the sounds of dirt hitting cardboard. They pull a piece of purple construction paper that is supported by two craft sticks from the bag. They drive the sticks into the ground at the head of the deceased fluffy’s grave and gently lean the plush rabbit against it. The pair cry quietly as they hug Papá, the shovel abandoned on the ground between his legs. The best friends stare at the grave through blurry eyes, reading the inscription made in marker on the construction paper tombstone.

“Don’t Cry Because It’s Over. Smile Because It Happened.”

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This is an old Fluffybooru story that I recovered by following a Pastebin link that @Newb_ronswek posted yesterday. According to the Pastebin, I originally published this April 22, 2016, and the FB ID is 37267. I can edit this into the title if this is necessary information for an archive of some kind, or add the link, if needed.

Thanks for reading, it was one of my earliest Fluffybooru writing works. If anyone else happens to have some of my old stories,I’d love to have them back. Thank you all!

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Mercy Cover Art

Also here’s the old cover art for this story, also drawn in 2016. Thanks to @AMDk7 for helping me recover this particular image.

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Youre welcome.
I always like to help if i can.

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This was beautiful.

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Thank you :slight_smile:

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Can’t help but keep thinking of this track

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That was so sad and beautiful. :sob:

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Also, if you want that picture to be the actual cover again, you should upload ti to the first post.
Doesnt matter where you place ti the website will consider it as the cover.

Not gonna lie, thought this was gonna be an angler fish scenario and there was actually going to be a monster using a fake fluffy as a lure. xD

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That’s actually a pretty cool idea for a fluffy horror story!

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You are such a fantastic writer, I’m in love with how much emotion you push into your fluffies and humans alike

Peak Sadbox here

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Thank you,I hope to be a novelist one day!
Sadbox is my favorite type of story to write. I find that fluffies make the “perfect victims” when it comes to undeserved sadness and suffering.
Glad you enjoyed it,and thanks for reading!

Lula and Esperanza were good kids.