CHAPTER I
Casual Night
It’s the end of a casual day. At least that's what Bön believed it was. The door to the apartment building is bronze and rusted. He enters and walks over to the mail slots, humming to himself. He scans for his slot, 101, and opens it. No mail, not today at least. Bön heads down the long hallway to his apartment, his hand shaking as he pulls out his key and puts it into the door.
There are too many things that he knows, things that others don't. Bön opens the door to see his pet raccoon, Sprinkle the Godly Raccoon of Doom, on its three legs since it lost one a few months ago.
“Haven’t lost another one yet, huh?” Bön looks down at Sprinkle, who is currently standing on one leg. Pretty incredible balance for a raccoon that’s Sprinkle’s size. “Hungry?” Bön walks over to his sofa, which is broken and leaning to the left because one of the legs is gone. The cushions sunken in. He slouches down, puts his bag onto the sofa, and opens it. He takes out a half-eaten sandwich and drops it for Sprinkle to eat.
“Hope this is good enough for now… We’ll go to the swamp later, Sprinks.”
Bön looks around the living room. He squints as he notices small scratches on the wall. They’re too high up to be Sprinkle’s claws, unless it got up there somehow.
“Sprinks, you can’t keep tearing up the wall, man.” Bön looks down at the half-eaten sandwich. The mayo and mustard splashed on the floor, and the smell of the sweet bread filled the room. He looks around the room, “Sprinkles, where’d you just go?” Bön sighs as he goes into his bedroom and opens the closet door. He grabs a worn-out baggy jumpsuit and slides it on over his clothes. “Sprinkle!” Bön yells again, more annoyed than the first time.
It’s almost like he’s losing his mind… again.
Bön grabs a grey jacket from the closet and sighs, “Sprinkle, I swear to God: I will leave you here if you don’t come out. You know I hate waiting.” He then mumbles, “Especially on a goddamn raccoon…”
After a few minutes, Bön finally gives up on waiting. “Sprinks, I’m leaving. You took too damn long.” He heads to the door and grabs his keys. His hand shakes as he unlocks the door and steps out of the apartment, into the hallway, relocking the door. Bön heads outside of the apartment building and unlocks his sedan, which looks like it’s fresh out of an accident. It more than likely was. As he gets in the sedan, he puts on his seatbelt and starts the car, when all of a sudden he notices a prescription bottle in the passenger seat. “WELLINGTON, BÖN J.” is what it read. The rest was ripped and scratched up. The only people who knew what it previously said were probably the prescriptionist and the doctor. Hell, Bön doesn’t even know what it said; he never read what the prescription said. He picked them up and took his medications as needed.
“I guess,” Bön grabs the bottle and opens it. Inside the orange bottle were only two little capsules. “Looks like I’ll be getting a refill later. That’s if they’re still open when I get that way.” He grabs one of the capsules and a half-full bottle of water that was still in the cup holder from earlier that day, and swallows the pill. He then drives off to the swamp. Not just any swamp, but the swamp where it all started. People, including Bön himself, still wonder: What made him this way? Why is Bön like this? But Bön never told anyone; he always kept to himself. Most people he associates with call him an awkward guy.
Bön turns on the radio, trying to silence his mind, which continues to question his choices. “Peace, that’s all I ask for, just for one second. Just one-- one second hurts nobody. Nobody at all… It’ll all sink eventually, only if I get this one second."
There are too many things that he knows, things that others don't. Bön opens the door to see his pet raccoon, Sprinkle the Godly Raccoon of Doom, on its three legs since it lost one a few months ago.
“Haven’t lost another one yet, huh?” Bön looks down at Sprinkle, who is currently standing on one leg. Pretty incredible balance for a raccoon that’s Sprinkle’s size. “Hungry?” Bön walks over to his sofa, which is broken and leaning to the left because one of the legs is gone. The cushions sunken in. He slouches down, puts his bag onto the sofa, and opens it. He takes out a half-eaten sandwich and drops it for Sprinkle to eat.
“Hope this is good enough for now… We’ll go to the swamp later, Sprinks.”
Bön looks around the living room. He squints as he notices small scratches on the wall. They’re too high up to be Sprinkle’s claws, unless it got up there somehow.
“Sprinks, you can’t keep tearing up the wall, man.” Bön looks down at the half-eaten sandwich. The mayo and mustard splashed on the floor, and the smell of the sweet bread filled the room. He looks around the room, “Sprinkles, where’d you just go?” Bön sighs as he goes into his bedroom and opens the closet door. He grabs a worn-out baggy jumpsuit and slides it on over his clothes. “Sprinkle!” Bön yells again, more annoyed than the first time.
It’s almost like he’s losing his mind… again.
Bön grabs a grey jacket from the closet and sighs, “Sprinkle, I swear to God: I will leave you here if you don’t come out. You know I hate waiting.” He then mumbles, “Especially on a goddamn raccoon…”
After a few minutes, Bön finally gives up on waiting. “Sprinks, I’m leaving. You took too damn long.” He heads to the door and grabs his keys. His hand shakes as he unlocks the door and steps out of the apartment, into the hallway, relocking the door. Bön heads outside of the apartment building and unlocks his sedan, which looks like it’s fresh out of an accident. It more than likely was. As he gets in the sedan, he puts on his seatbelt and starts the car, when all of a sudden he notices a prescription bottle in the passenger seat. “WELLINGTON, BÖN J.” is what it read. The rest was ripped and scratched up. The only people who knew what it previously said were probably the prescriptionist and the doctor. Hell, Bön doesn’t even know what it said; he never read what the prescription said. He picked them up and took his medications as needed.
“I guess,” Bön grabs the bottle and opens it. Inside the orange bottle were only two little capsules. “Looks like I’ll be getting a refill later. That’s if they’re still open when I get that way.” He grabs one of the capsules and a half-full bottle of water that was still in the cup holder from earlier that day, and swallows the pill. He then drives off to the swamp. Not just any swamp, but the swamp where it all started. People, including Bön himself, still wonder: What made him this way? Why is Bön like this? But Bön never told anyone; he always kept to himself. Most people he associates with call him an awkward guy.
Bön turns on the radio, trying to silence his mind, which continues to question his choices. “Peace, that’s all I ask for, just for one second. Just one-- one second hurts nobody. Nobody at all… It’ll all sink eventually, only if I get this one second."
