Allow me to tell you a story. It is about the creatures that crawl from the woods, the ones that most would call monsters. It's not really fair to them though, after all they did nothing wrong. They look uglier than sin but that is no reason to judge them. They have enormous teeth that seems to be larger than is possible but they are not made for chomping on little children's bits and pieces, just made for eating the trees and the grass. They have eight little legs and two larger ones and they slither across the ground like a grotesque cockaroach, but they mean no harm in it. They only want to live just like the rest of the world, and yet they are cast out like they mean nothing.
They used to have a name, back when people didn't hate what was different quite so much. They were called the 'nowhere people', for they always seemed to be moving and no one quite accepted them. They weren't driven out though, just no one wanted to quite live with them. It might have been the slime, people were never really fond of slime and the nowheres tended to drag it around wherever they went. Part of that of course was that they were missing their lower jaw, so they couldn't contain all the liquid that built up in their mouths. The mess just kind of built up wherever they were and no one liked that. Wasn't really their fault though, they were just made that way.
I met one once who was quite friendly though. They can't speak, on account of the missing tongue, so he just kind of made noises at me. They were almost certainly happy noises though, as I didn't try to throw him out, or kill him like so many others had. It's difficult though because if they stop moving for too long they die. I grew to really like him though, as the world seemed to collapse around me and this little nowhere man just didn't seem to care. He was always so happy to see me again, like a little dog, or a significant other. He left though, because he had to, and I don't blame him for it, not really. I mean it's not easy when you only have half a heart.
I blame the Foozles really. They often showed up in the same forests as the nowhere people. They were small, and fluffy, and had just the right number of limbs. They also came in a variety of colors including pink and yellow and a delightful shade of purple. They made adorable noises and didn't make any mess. All the kids loved them and wanted them as pets, and there were more than enough that were willing to oblige. The nowhere people only came in one shade, and it was a puke blue, if such a thing exists. They drank in the sunlight dragging it away from the rest of the world unlike the Foozles who positively radiated with life. It is difficult to say how intelligent any of them really where, but I always felt the Foozles were more like cats, they knew what was going on and how to exploit it much more than the nowhere people who were always left in the rain.
One day I found a dead one surrounded by a group of Foozles. There was no blood on their hands but I could see the murder in their eyes. They are ferocious little beasts when provoked, with tiny teeth that inject just enough venom to burn, but not to kill. Apparently with enough of them though it sucks the life out of a creature, leaving it wilted and broken. This is what happened to one of the nowhere people, and likely what would have happened to me if I hadn't just kept walking. I still look back on that day as the closest I have come to death. I fear for those things even still, and take careful watch of them, especially those kept as pets. Maybe it's just my own paranoia, but I often see them staring at me with their soulless black eyes.
That's the real difference between the two, the thing that sets them apart. The nowhere people have eyes full of expression, full of the pain and suffering they go through everyday, and they are honest eyes. There is a soul behind those eyes. The Foozles have nothing, they care about nothing and are willing to destroy anything that gets in their way. It is all in the eyes really, they tell the real truth. Someone made a theory once, that all the sinners of the world get reincarnated as one of the nowhere people, though in the paper he called them Vanhooligans. He also stated that the obvious parallel is those who were good in life became Foozles, treated with respect and admiration. I think he may have gotten them switched around.
They used to have a name, back when people didn't hate what was different quite so much. They were called the 'nowhere people', for they always seemed to be moving and no one quite accepted them. They weren't driven out though, just no one wanted to quite live with them. It might have been the slime, people were never really fond of slime and the nowheres tended to drag it around wherever they went. Part of that of course was that they were missing their lower jaw, so they couldn't contain all the liquid that built up in their mouths. The mess just kind of built up wherever they were and no one liked that. Wasn't really their fault though, they were just made that way.
I met one once who was quite friendly though. They can't speak, on account of the missing tongue, so he just kind of made noises at me. They were almost certainly happy noises though, as I didn't try to throw him out, or kill him like so many others had. It's difficult though because if they stop moving for too long they die. I grew to really like him though, as the world seemed to collapse around me and this little nowhere man just didn't seem to care. He was always so happy to see me again, like a little dog, or a significant other. He left though, because he had to, and I don't blame him for it, not really. I mean it's not easy when you only have half a heart.
I blame the Foozles really. They often showed up in the same forests as the nowhere people. They were small, and fluffy, and had just the right number of limbs. They also came in a variety of colors including pink and yellow and a delightful shade of purple. They made adorable noises and didn't make any mess. All the kids loved them and wanted them as pets, and there were more than enough that were willing to oblige. The nowhere people only came in one shade, and it was a puke blue, if such a thing exists. They drank in the sunlight dragging it away from the rest of the world unlike the Foozles who positively radiated with life. It is difficult to say how intelligent any of them really where, but I always felt the Foozles were more like cats, they knew what was going on and how to exploit it much more than the nowhere people who were always left in the rain.
One day I found a dead one surrounded by a group of Foozles. There was no blood on their hands but I could see the murder in their eyes. They are ferocious little beasts when provoked, with tiny teeth that inject just enough venom to burn, but not to kill. Apparently with enough of them though it sucks the life out of a creature, leaving it wilted and broken. This is what happened to one of the nowhere people, and likely what would have happened to me if I hadn't just kept walking. I still look back on that day as the closest I have come to death. I fear for those things even still, and take careful watch of them, especially those kept as pets. Maybe it's just my own paranoia, but I often see them staring at me with their soulless black eyes.
That's the real difference between the two, the thing that sets them apart. The nowhere people have eyes full of expression, full of the pain and suffering they go through everyday, and they are honest eyes. There is a soul behind those eyes. The Foozles have nothing, they care about nothing and are willing to destroy anything that gets in their way. It is all in the eyes really, they tell the real truth. Someone made a theory once, that all the sinners of the world get reincarnated as one of the nowhere people, though in the paper he called them Vanhooligans. He also stated that the obvious parallel is those who were good in life became Foozles, treated with respect and admiration. I think he may have gotten them switched around.
No comments:
Post a Comment