The Tragic Tale of Haze Green Smokey by: CC

It was quite some time ago, I imagine.
Before my time, considering how long I've been around.
And now that the orderlies have stopped listening, you there the one in the corner with the bony glare, I'll tell you of a tragic tale, I fear your sockets grow dark, don't let the sleep take you, my friend.
My story begins like this:
Before the skies died down to that dull, pale shade it's become, there was Green.
All I can recall, he is. The only man I know I love. There was a Hazy afterglow after the sun had died, it was a hazy phase, or a horrible glaze that we were all doomed to be blinded by.

I sat on the ground outside my dank ancient flat. And I had to be home to feed the monsters in my walls. I called to the ones in the distance. They were playing their brick game that I grew tired of hearing at night.
I called to them for help. Nobody replied to my stringy cries, and my kaleidoscope fears.
I sat alone, upon the hard concrete I've always complained about. "Bad me, oh how dare you sit on the cracks, bad me." But of course, they say "step on a crack..." not "sit on a crack..." so I forgave myself.
But my fears overwhelmed me. I remember flailing... madly... my shrieks were forced to stay in my adam's apple, until I began to choke. They were taking me, those awful tentacles.
It wasn't until I felt something cold on my back. (My shoulder, more like.) That my neck turned, then my head and I was face to face with an Angel. The most gorgeous, gorgeous man I had ever seen.
"Why do you bellow so loud my frail one?" He asked.
"I fear they've taken my legs." I replied, glancing down at those long knobby attachments.
His graceful fingers licked the skin on my leg. "But, sir, your legs appear to be right here. Don't you see"
"Yes but... the will to use them has dried up along with the tea I've left on the counter for days now." I looked at his face, longing to feel the soft skin.

He took my hand, and the acids in the cardboard box I keep in my stomach did a summer-salt. "Let me help you, my friend." And he helped me to my feet. I found that my legs still didn't work, but my feet did the job quite well.

We arrived in my flat, I couldn't just let him leave. He had been so kind to me, I wanted to give him something in return. So I asked him to stay for tea.
"I would love some" He said like a ray of sunshine, "Would you like some help"
I waved a hand, dismissing his offer. I did this kindly, mind you.

I don't much like describing my tea-making-habits, so let's skip that.

I returned to the living room, and brought him his tea. (The secret ingredient was the feeling opposite of hate, how I loathe to poison tea)
He thanked me, in his honey voice.
"Kind, frail one," He began, "Please, I would like to know that word or title by which you are called"
I sat across from him, (still ignoring my legs for their betrayal) and put my skinny fingers together at the tips. "I find myself with the title of: Gondola Grey. Or Mr. Grey... but you may call me Grey"
"It has been a pleasure to meet you Mr. Gondola Grey. " His gentleman-ness sent shivers down my vertebrae. "My name is Haze Green Smokey"
And so we had introduced ourselves.
The rest of the night, we conversed about ourselves, trading biographies and such, and pondering what exactly lies beneath the concrete outside my flat. I did not mention the monsters in my walls, or the brick playing boys outside my window. Those things are private, and unclean, things an Angel shouldn't have to hear about.
Later on that night, he had to leave on account of some business he had to attend to. I bid him farewell, and watched him effortlessly drift down the stone stairs. How I admired his footwork.
I don't quite remember what came next that night. I assume that I fell asleep.

The next morning, I awoke to the same messages on the ceiling above me.
Telling me today's weather,
Reminding me to wear clean socks,
Begging me to feed the monsters.
Then I thought, halfheartedly, did I feed the monsters last night?

I sighed, casting a look down at those knobby attachments, they seemed so miserable. I heard them whisper a word of apology. This took awhile to turn over in the sea of my mind. But all I could think about was...Green.
Quickly, so they didn't think I was being rude, I decided to forgive them. They appeared to be grateful.
And with us being friends again, that was one less stress sucked out of my cardboard-stomach-box.

What am I doing this afty? I thought to myself, allowing my old friends to help me onto the floor.
As I said before, I don't like to talk about my tea-making-habits, nor do I like to talk about how I get ready in the morning.
So let's skip that.

I cautiously descended the stone steps outside my flat. I looked to my right, Those ankle-biter blokes were playing their wretched brick game. I looked to my left, but of course, that's where the world ended, so all I saw was that ugly colorless color.
This morning, I knew for a fact that the monsters were angry with me, I had to purchase something for them to consume. So I set a coarse for the nearest corner store. I was low on money at the time, so I had to be cheap about what I bought.
The morning was the color of the ugliest fog I've ever laid my glassy eyes upon.
But fear not, my bony staring one, I hadn't gone blind so easily. I knew my path well, and I did well to keep upon it. I was careful to stay away from cracks, and puddles. I kept to myself, hurriedly making my way up the not-as-cracked-as-the-concrete-outside-my-flat road. My eyes glued to that old run down shop. But something drop-dead-amazingtastic caught my glassy eyes. It was my wingless, halo less angel, Green.
"Oy!" I cried, trying to wave my arm, but it appeared to have betrayed me. I'd deal with it later.
Green turned, "'Ello, My frail Grey. How are you this morn"
We drifted closer to each other like two islands without anchors.
"I'm lovely, thank you." I replied, bathing in his beauty. He smelled different that day. He smelled like the shimmery-est sunshine sparkle in our foggy cold world.
"And your health is good?" He looked at my knobby attachments, "Your legs working"
I felt that box bubble, and I smiled, "No and yes"
I could smell his eyebrows raise, "What's the problem today, my friend"
"My arms"
I didn't feel the need to finish. Words had failed me, and I didn't want to pollute such loveliness with my petty complaints.

Instead we spoke of the day, and I told him of the weather. Together, we strolled to the nearest cafe. He wanted to buy me breakfast, but my hunger was being filled every time I gazed at his glow.
What are you doing this afty? I thought once he and I parted. Once again he had business, and I was left confused, as if woken from a trance. What a honey trance it was. Heavenly to the taste.
Afty already, it was. And I had forgotten my plans.
I looked down at my arm, simple as this problem was, it seemed to have ruined some kind of potential opportunity with Green.
But, he hugged me that day, so perhaps things weren't as ruined as I thought.

I returned home later that day, when the olive colored sun sunk beneath the pavement, and I found myself wandering back home to my flat.
As I neared my building, I noticed there was one less brick-playing-boy. Perhaps he finally realized that brick-playing is a pointless bloody-idiotic game, and went home.
I admired the boy for taking the same path I took.

Careful to avoid the cracks, I climbed up the stone steps and entered my flat.
Never had I dreaded coming home as much as I did when I opened the door.
I hate the sight of blood, which is what I was greeted by. I rudely told the blood that it was not welcome here, and it seemed so puzzled. It replied to me in the small voice of a boy.
My speaker-box heart sunk into the cardboard-stomach-box, (they hadn't said "hi" in so long.
"Oh..." I felt sicker than usual, the room spun, "Oh... dear. This is all my fault"
My hatred of blood was as strong as my wall-monster's love for it.
And I had finally realized, that was the second day I had forgotten to feed the monsters.
But what? What had distracted me so?
I thought about how I was on my way to purchase a cheap meal for the wall monsters.
and then what happened?
...my thoughts floated toward Green.

Well, surely, I couldn't blame my beloved Angel for the death of the brick-playing-boy.
But who was to blame?
I didn't think much on it.
I hated that brick-player anyhow.

I would have poisoned his tea...

I awoke the next morning with the blood of a small boy on my ceiling, spelling out words, luckily, I knew how to read. It said: "Don't be cheap, the boy tasted of brick"
I agreed, that was a dreadful taste.
I found my arm to be in order, my legs were okay... except... my mouth felt strange, so I reached into the gaping hole in my face, and pulled out a bloody tooth. Things have never been this bad. Sure, my limbs usually don't work, but at least they weren't falling off.

So I put the tooth under my pillow and did my morning routine.
And don't expect me to tell you of it, bony stare one.

Green was who awaited me outside my door. "Mornin', My Grey friend." He beamed. "Oh... hello." I was desperate not to open my mouth too wide, with fear that my teeth would pierce his tender flesh.
"Mind if I come in?" He asked.

I glanced into my blood soaked living room... there seemed to be more blood than I remembered.
"Er... well... see my apartment is a bit of a mess this morn'." I said, halfway covering the hole in my face.
His hand came so close to touching mine. "I don't mind." He said. "I'd rather stay in your dirty flat than be outside it. Something weird's going on"
Fear filled my organs. "Come again? What do you mean"
"Well, those brick-boys are missing, and the cracks outside your flat are all... odd." He made jagged motions in the air with his delicious looking hands. "They're... scarier"
I didn't want to reveal my fear to him. I tried to act as casually as a trouble-free-bloke. "Well, my room isn't as safe as you'd think. And, I've got to run out and purchase something for... a...a friend... so... you know... I don't want you to be here all by yourself"

Green looked greatly disappointed. The look on his beautiful countenance almost caused me to give in... but my love for him took over, and I apologized. "I'm quite sorry, my dear friend. But I really need to be going"

I hurried off, after shutting my door. I left him there, in the hall, to decide what to do. He's the only man I could trust, I knew he'd go home.

Luckily the shop was giving out good food or cheap, I sprinted back to my flat, clutching that garbage-brown parcel. I didn't notice before, but Green was right. The cracks were... scarier...and the boys were gone.
Oh dear... all that blood.

I forgot my caution and ran up my steps.

And to my horror, the door to my room was open.

Shaking like a wet, rabid-sick Chihuahua, I stumbled in...

"Green?" I glanced behind every corner. I felt the box in my stomach tighten, and I ripped open the parcel... but it was empty. "But...but I"

The wall monsters looked at me expectantly.

"It was all right here... I had it... but... now it's... it's gone"

Something amazingtastic caught my glassy eyes. I looked to my right. "Green!" I cried, happiness flowing through me like a sticky river. "Oh I thought for sure... oh... dear... are you alright"
Green stared at me... his once lovely colorful face seemed drained off all alrightness. "It-it was you"
He stood there, horror painted across him.

"Pardon"

"You... you killed them. Those... those brick-playing-boys." Green stammered. His voice didn't sound like his. "What? Green, I didn't..." I put out my cooperating hand, "No... Green, darling, it wasn't me, it was the monsters. They came out of the wall. They were so hungry... I"
But Green backed away from me.
I pointed to the monsters, "Green, it was them... IT WAS THEM. IT WAS THE MONSTERS"
"Grey, there's... there's nothing there, Grey"

An anger spread through me, how could he not see them? They were standing right there, eyeing him. Eyeing MY Green. MY angel.
"Green, please"
I came close to him, a loving island... but his anchor kept him there, firmly planted in the middle of my bloody floor.
"You've been killing those poor boys, and what have you done with the brick, Grey?" Green sounded like the color of his name.
I never did understand that statement. I didn't touch the brick.

"I didn't Green. IT WAS THE BLOODY MONSTERS!"BR
"THERE ARE NO BLOODY MONSTERS"
And then they struck.
...all I could do was watch as my beloved Green fell to the floor.
he added to all that blood.
...But... you could tell his apart from the brick-boys's.
...his was.
the color of purity...

I don't quite recall what happened after that.
Miss Scarlet ShankShire next door called the police.
...and now I'm here...
...as you can see, my friend with the bony stare...
..."It's just you and me...
And you know, Green wasn't the only one who told me they weren't real.
The doctors say that too.

And you know what's so tragic about this whole story?"
Grey leaned forward, staring into the mirror. "I lost the love of my life that day... now... it's just you...and me"

The Doctor turned away from the one way mirror, he glanced at the nurse. "You know what' really so tragic about his whole story?" he paused, "There never was a Haze Green Smokey"
"What do you mean"
"Poor bloke's never been out of the Hospital in his life. This is the hundredth story he's told his reflection. 'Course he'll never know it. He doesn't live in our world anymore"
The doctor and nurse exited the room, leaving Grey all alone with his reflection.

"...But let me tell you about the time I got lost in an acid rain storm and met the President of a distant land..."