“Ah, come to think of it, I never asked for your name.”

Why’d ya need to know something so dumb like that?

“Huh? Dumb?”

That’s right, friendo. Names are a stinky dumb little societal construct we attach to flesh bags and useless things because we want to get attached to them and get familiar with them and I just don’t really get along with that ol’ hoot a nanny.

“O-Oh, is that so? Wait, then… why did you name your dog Rocinante?”

Because that’s his name, duh.

“I see…” She’s looking at me with those big puppy dog eyes, but I’m not gonna fall for it! Papaw always told me to never give my name out to strangers. Like a scary stuff they can do nowadays on the World Wide Web just with a single name. Like, they could find my home and egg my house and write mean stuff on the—

It’s Lily.

“I’m sorry?”

I said my name is Lily! Geez, how rude asking for someone’s name and then not even listening when they give it to you. Didn’t anyone teach you how to be fancy manners like person? Good little ladies always listen to others; that’s what my papaw would always say.

“Oh! Lily! Why, that’s a very beautiful name, Lily. My name’s Jasmine. Nice to meet you.”

…Hmph. The proverbial pleasure is mine. At least your voice isn’t stinky like your poor listening skills.

“Hehe, you’re a very interesting girl, aren’t you?”

Is that an insult!?

“Oh, gracious no. It’s a compliment. Nowadays… it’s hard to find anyone with the same spirit and spunk you do, even if you say some strange things sometimes. It’s refreshing, almost like I’ve gone back before the… well, you know.”

Nah. Say it clearly please. I dunno what I dunno.

“You… really don’t know? About the outside?”

The outside’s been the same as it ever was, lady. This here world’s always been a messy hive of scum and villainy. Eh, well not always. There’s some good. I don’t have to use those useless green little paper junk pieces and I don’t have to continue torturing myself in the absolute garbage we call the United States education system and a lot of the days I get to see Ms. Sue Doughnim singing angels up high way up high and—

Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.

“Lily? Are you ok?”

What’dya mean, Jasmine rice? I’m all fine and dandy.

Hey hoh here she goes

Either a little too high or a little too low

Got no self esteem or vertigo

Cause she think she’s made of candy

Hey hoh there she goes

Either a little too loud or a little too close

Got a hurricane at back of her throat

She thinks she’s fine and dandy

She thinks she’s fine and dandy

She thinks she’s fine and dandy

She thinks she’s fine and—

“LILY!”

Jasmine rice suddenly grabs my shoulders all of a sudden and shakes me like a kernel in a popcorn bucket. Wabababababaabbababab sploooooooooooosh.

My brain’s singing to the far seas. I can see the river stud before me. It’s grey. Or gray? I dunno. But it’s a new color. Is that the river stix? Or is it a tunnel of dashed hopes and dreams? The red’s starting to take over I can’t think straight the red’s taking over I can’t be human I can’t be—

SLAP! SLAP! SLAP!

Ow! Y-You slapped me!

“Lily, you were… I don’t know what you were doing, but I think something’s really wrong with you. Um, that sounds really bad. I don’t mean you, but the Influence taking over you. Are you really sure you’re ok?”

What’dya mean, Jasmine rice? I’m all fine and—

No. No I’m not.

“What?”

I never am. But what am I supposed to do, otherwise? All I can keep doing is endure and endure and endure. The red’s never gonna leave, and this is the only way for me to cope with the constant, endless agony. The torment of spending your every waking moment fighting for control and watching yourself devolve into a mindless facsimile of what you once were. It’s tiring. It’s gut-wrenching. Can you imagine that? Every second of every day. Vile, disgusting red, coursing through your veins. And you know you can’t stop it. You know you can’t escape it. You just have to live with it month by month and year by year. Who am I? Who was I? I don’t know anymore, and I don’t care. I can’t care much these days because all I’m thinking of is how to endure another day of this constant pain. So I’d appreciate it if you let me just have these moments of insanity because that’s the only way for me to ignore the worms trying to force their way into my very being. Can you do that for me?

“U-U-Um, ok. If that’s what you want.”

Thank you. I really mean that.

So anyways, what’s that stinky leader of yours like? I bet they’re one mean ol’ miser. Who the crud teaches people to shoot innocent little dogs? That’s some really sociopathic behavior right there, pardner. You should help me knock some sense into him when we arrive at the super secret base.

“Actually, we’re already here.” Jasmine rice points to a yucky looking door caked in brown gunk. “This is as far as I can take you. Mr. Wilson is the one who’ll decide if you can stay or not.”

She leans in close and gives me another hug, but it’s weird this time. Well, weirder than before. I wonder if this is what it would be like if I had an actual mom.

“I… can’t fully understand what you’ve been through, Lily. I probably never will, but what I do know is that you’re so, so strong. And I know that Mr. Wilson will see that same strength within you, so don’t worry too much. Just remember to be, ehm, less abrupt when you speak.”

I can’t make any promises, mon ami. If he deserves a knuckle sandwich then I’m gonna deliver a knuckle sandwich to him.

“Hehe, alright then. Hopefully I’ll see you in a little bit.”

She opens the door and pushes me into the room. Inside, a real hard-boiled looking man is staring daggers straight at me.

Alright, buckaroo. Let’s do this.