General Category > General Fan Fiction & Art
End of RAF
theyoungphoenix:
Aw crap. I dot like where this is headed.
redtailedsaffa:
The only time good actually looks evil. This is brilliant.
DinosaurNothlit:
Aww, but Abby, weren't you the one who said that torture sounded fun?
And thanks. :)
Chapter Four
Po kept running. He slowed down only to hide from the occasional RAFian who might spot him running and realize something was wrong. They would think he was doing something bad again. They would be angry. He didn't want them to be angry. So he hid.
He was breathing hard, air coming in ragged gasps. He wasn't really sure where he was going, but he desperately needed to go somewhere. Somewhere, anywhere that wasn't here.
Did everyone hate him, and they just didn't talk about it where he could hear? Did everyone, know, that he was a monster?
He spotted the Roleplaying Board. As he remembered having visited the various places inside that Board, a thought occurred to him. His mother had always told him to stay away from the Bannedlands, because bad people lived there.
Well, Po was a bad person, wasn't he? He'd tried so hard to be good, but deep down, he was bad. So he should go live in the Bannedlands. With the others that were bad, like him. The realization that that should be his home, wrung a small sob from his throat, but he told himself that he could be strong.
He ran inside the glass ship, and reached up on tiptoes to hit the button that would take him out there, far past the borders of RAF.
After several minutes riding along past the stars, a sight that Po had seen many times before but never quite grew bored of, the ship landed in that desolate place. The Bannedlands was a scary place, but that was okay because maybe Po could be scary too? He made a small growling noise, trying to prove himself scary, as he steeled himself and took a few tentative steps away from the ship.
Deep down somewhere in the back of his mind, though, he knew he wasn't really that brave. He sniffled, wiping at the tears that were running down his face.
A nearby tree made a slight shuffling noise, as if in response to the sound Po had made.
"Who's there?" Po called out, trying to sound unafraid, but unable to hide the pitiful quiver in his voice.
"A friend," came the answer, an adult's voice. The man stepped out from behind the tree, a human, but with layers of images super-imposed on one another. Po had seen people like that before. But he didn't know why they were different from the RAFians.
"Friend?" Po wondered, his eyes narrowed, suspicion layered over his natural childlike innocence.
"My name is Yorick," the stranger said, and Po immediately stiffened the moment he heard the name.
"Yorick?" Po questioned as harshly as he could manage, although the name still came out sounding almost like 'Yowick.' "You're bad. Mommy says Yorick bad man."
Yorick looked thoughtful, as though Po had brought up a good point, one that he had not considered before. "Not bad, just different. You know what it's like to be different, don't you?"
Po nodded, briefly unable to form words through the lump in his throat. Yes. Yes, he knew what it was like to be different.
Yorick settled onto his haunches, bringing himself closer to Po's level. "I used to be a RAFian, did you know that? RAFians don't really like people who are different, though. People like you, people like me. They kicked me out because, well, I just couldn't deal with it anymore, I couldn't fight the person I really was inside. But it's okay. It's okay to be the person that you are."
Po looked up at him, his head tilted, intrigued by this new point of view. What if the bad man Yorick was right? What if it really was okay to be himself? Without worrying about what anyone thought of him?
Yorick went on, almost in a whisper now. "And if people get hurt, that's okay too. It's not your fault. They deserve it, for trying to make you be like them."
Po pulled away, just a slight, instinctual movement, rebelling against what he knew to be wrong.
But, on the other hand, was it really wrong? He wasn't quite sure. A whining noise of pained confusion came unbidden from his throat, as the morals he'd been taught, fought against his own natural instinct for chaos and hurt. Which side of his young, troubled mind, was right?
"Mommy," he whispered, trying to think what the one person he trusted most in the world, would do. Mommy would say, it wasn't okay to hurt. Wouldn't she?
"She's not really your mommy," Yorick said, softly, like he was confiding a deep secret. "Anna? No. She made you up. She just pretends, you see. She pretends to be your mother. It's all fake."
"No!" Po wailed, clutching his head in his hands. "That's not true!"
"Yes it is, and you know it," Yorick practically purred. "Deep down, I think you know. People are supposed to look like their mommies, aren't they? People act like their mommies, don't they? Does Anna look like you? Does Anna act like you?"
" . . . no," Po admitted. "But . . . " He couldn't think of what the 'but' was. What reason Anna could possibly have, for looking and acting so utterly different from him? Po knew he was different, different from all the other RAFians. Why else would that be?
But, mommy was still his mommy, right? The bad man Yorick, he had to be lying.
But suddenly, Po wasn't so sure. He sobbed, and Yorick wrapped his arms around Po's tiny frame, comforting and warm. The bad man Yorick . . . he didn't feel bad. He was telling Po nice things. Nicer things than any RAFian had ever told him.
Maybe the bad man Yorick wasn't a bad man at all. If his mommy wasn't really his mommy . . . then maybe everything wasn't as it seemed.
Underseen:
This sequel book is coming along quickly.
theyoungphoenix:
Ya know, I meant that sarcastically...
Poor Po. No little kid should have to go through that. :(
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