from the OTHER archives: Socks, Part 4, Chapters 15-17

Maybe I should have saved the title of this part- “This Has Been A Tragic Year”- for this year, seeing as we’re going into a damn meme election. But, then again, when I was twelve or thirteen and writing this, I didn’t know memes could be anything other than “top text, bottom text” format.

“So, wait- why are we here again?” I whispered to Tim. “I thought that when we first met, the common goal was to get OUT of the-”

I have no idea what’s going on. I’ve had my fair share of weird transitions, but none have completely thrown me for a loop quite like this one.

“Yes, but this is where Tomorrow is. We have to get to her so she can unscrew-you-up.”

Hmm indeed.

In that moment, Tomorrow raced into the hall, turned around, and saw us pressed against the wall.
“Why, hello, Algeria! Welcome back, Timothy! How nice of you to come back to us! We’ve been waiting for you!”

Well, isn’t that convenient for us? You know, I bet you what- Algeria’s about to fall unconscious again.

Then, in that moment, I was overcome with a desire to just curl up on the floor and go to sleep forever. But I seemed to be the only one around me that was going to do that very thing.
I collapsed and smacked the floor hard enough to actually make a SMACK sound, and as my consciousness faded away into Oblivion, I heard Timothy yelling, “WHAT DID YOU DO TO HER?”

I called it. I don’t even have any more asinine jokes to type anymore. It’s just sad at this point.

Tomorrow waited until she was sure that Algeria was unconscious to say, “I didn’t do anything to her. She did that all by herself. You want me to explain?”

You’re a dang fictional character. You’re supposed to explain things. That’s the only way things get done around here.

“Why would I ever trust you to explain anything?” Tim replied. “You’re the one who messed her up and then let us escape and think that we were safe. You’re the one who tried to KILL her in front of a million people!”

“So you don’t remember last year at all?” Tomorrow wistfully whispered. “We loved each other. Before you met her, life was great. After you met her, life stank for me. So, do you want me to explain what happened with her?” Tomorrow lightly kicked Algeria.

Well, this is going to mess up all the slash fanfictions that don’t exist.

“Of course I want you to explain!”
“It’s fairy puberty. When somebody’s body is ready to develop a new, I don’t know, power or something, they go into a coma-like state so that they don’t accidentally hurt themselves while that part of them is developing. That’s what’s going on with her.”

Has this ever happened to you, Tomorrow? Can you peak from existence? And besides, Algeria is less than half fairy. Why is her puberty aligning exactly with that side of her? Where’s the human menstruation? Wouldn’t the fact that she’s a hybrid render her sterile and therefore make the point of puberty completely irrelevant?

I’m tired.

Tim said nothing. Tomorrow grabbed Algeria’s wrists and dragged her into a heavily padded room, leaving her there. She walked out of the room, pulling a long, thin object out of her pocket.
“I can’t see the future, Tim,” Tomorrow slowly said. “but I can see that we will be together for a very long time.” She took the long, thin object, which turned out to be a tranquilizer dart, and shoved it into Tim’s thigh.

Tomorrow, we get it- you’re desperate, but you don’t need to be shooting everybody up with Rohypnol in order for someone to give you attention. Being a decent person goes a long way, too.

He fell to where Algeria had been on the floor a couple of minutes ago.

A couple of minutes too late, it seems.

Tim slowly came out of the haze of whatever had been in the dart, finding himself in a dimly lit room with Abbey. He was tied up to a random pole in the middle of the room.

Tomorrow, why? Why didn’t we intervene before you fell to rock bottom? Why didn’t we call the police earlier?

Oh, wait, because there would be no need for this book then.

“Tim? Are you listening? I heard that Tomorrow wants to make you like her. Creepy, I mean.”
“Wow. Gosh. Such nice news to wake up to.”
“I broke into her room here and saw that she even drew plans of how to turn you creepy. Trust me when I say that seeing some of those will give you nightmares for the rest of your life.”

This book gave me nightmares for about five months. Does that count?

“How did you find this out? I thought that you weren’t even allowed to be here after you took Algeria away from all this 5 years ago.”
“I hate to tell you this, but… Tomorrow is my daughter.”
Tim raised his eyebrows higher than he thought he could. “What?”

Oh, joy, the family relations trope. Cancel your fanfictions, everybody. Pretend this whole affair never happened.

We ain’t rednecks.

“She’s my daughter. It doesn’t seem like it because she turned herself creepy, so she doesn’t look anything like me anymore.”
There was a pause, Abbey left, and the world faded again.

That’s got to be in the 99% percentile of lazy transitions.

When I came out of the coma-like state or whatever it was, I couldn’t move. It wasn’t like I was paralyzed or anything

Well, yeah, that’s kinda the definition of paralyzed

it was more like something hard was encompassing me on all sides. Whatever it was didn’t have any air in it, so I was forced to use the special veins in my arms.

Those special veins require oxygen, though, so you should be dead right now. Unless that “special power” that you supposedly gained through “fairy puberty” is bending the laws of physics.

I reached out with my mind (didn’t you know I was telepathic?) and now I knew that I was all alone. Nobody was in the room with me.
It was so lonely in there.


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