Chapter Text
Despite multiple affairs and terrible mistreatment, Bloberta and Clay remained together for over a decade. They had stated multiple times that it was only for appearance however. What was the point though?? Everyone in the small town of Moralton knew just how much the two absolutely despised each other. Even their kids could tell. After over a decade of abuse and neglect on the part of Clay and Bloberta, they finally decided to divorce. Their children were no longer forced to stay in their toxic and tension filled home anymore, so there was no reputation to keep up now. As soon as the papers were signed Bloberta was gone, not even bothering to fight for her own belongings. Not even bothering to pack anything.
Clay lays in “his” half of the bed, staring up at the popcorn ceiling, drink in hand. It wasn’t even his half anymore, both sides now rightfully belonged to him. Despite this, the male couldn’t bring himself to even look over at the opposing side. Staring at the tall ceiling was all he could do, This was the only way he knew how to cope. Laying in bed, drinking as much as he could, and passing out immediately after. Thats how he’s coped for years now, no matter how much his family begged and pleaded for it to end, no matter how many people he hurt, there was no stopping it. It didn’t matter to him anymore, his whole family had gotten up and left him in the dust, not even bothering to call or say goodbye before doing so. Clay remembers the shock and the tears that filled the household and town the day Orel left. Even Shapey and Block could tell something was wrong, something was off and missing. They stayed quiet that day, and all the days following. The absence of their oldest brother and the furthering neglect from their parents forced them into an early adulthood.
Clay couldn’t blame everyone for leaving though. Despite how hard he tried to repress the memories of his past actions he was unsuccessful. The way Orel limped when he walked, how harshly Bloberta glared in his direction everytime he sipped from his glass, every time he passed Danielle down town. It all reminded him of how awful he was, every single day he was forced to remember how badly his own actions hurt the people around him. Not only was it hurtful, it was also embarrassing. It was embarrassing how much effort he put into covering up his abuse towards his family. God he was such a self centered prick. Not even caring about the problems, but more focused on covering them up.
Around the holidays was the worst time for him. Him and his wife took their first break on Christmas day, that was years ago however. Despite how long ago it was, he still felt a twinge of pain in his chest when he thought about it. The following Christmas wasn’t any better either. He remembered the hurt but cold expression on Danielles face as he not-so-romantically confessed his love to the guy. It was too late for that though. Danielle already knew of all the horrible things Clay had done. How could anyone love a monster whose fucked up in the head enough to shoot his own child? No one, thats who. Though the male Puppington couldn’t help but fantasize about how his life could have been. How happy his family could have been if he had made it with Stopframe. He seemed to think about this often. Even before the finalization of him and Bloberta's divorce. That track coach was the only person he has ever felt a genuine attraction to in years.
Clay sat up, carefully setting his half empty cup down on the night stand next to him. As the glass clunk against the wooden table, he hesitated. “You’re better when you drink.” ran through his mind in that comfortable, familiar, and laidback voice. He let out a pitiful sigh, quickly chugging down the remainder of his liquor. There wasn’t much left, no, but the guilt was overwhelming. After finishing his alcohol he yet again set the glass down, this time lazily carrying himself out of bed this time. Clay glanced at the other half of his bed, his eyes fogging up. He swallowed down the guilt, blinking away the tears that reside at the gates of his eyes. The male stumbled past the doorway of his bedroom, leaning against the wall in order to keep his balance. As he walked along the long hall he stared at the family photos that lined it, a sorrowful look in his eyes. His heart ached as he remembered the days he could have spent with his family. The days he was too busy drinking away the pain of a failing marriage and unwanted children. He angrily grumbled to himself through clenched teeth as he made his way down the stairs, carefully holding onto the railing.
Recently he’s been drinking more than ever, maybe even more than the day he took Orel on their father and son outing. This wasn't surprising though, even a sober man would be tempted to get a little tipsy after his wife up and left. Right? Despite hardly being able to walk, Clay grabbed his car keys and made his way out to that beautiful baby blue vehicle. It felt so strange getting into that car all by his lonesome, no kids happily bobbing their heads along to the tunes playing from the radio, no wife stubbornly looking out the window avoiding all possible eye contact. Despite how intoxicated the male was, he still managed to drive pretty alright. Though he’d occasionally get to close to another car, scratching the side of their vehicle with his window mirror. He’d simply raise his hand apologetically and quickly speed away, passing any red light that stopped him. There weren’t many cars on the road so this was easily avoided however, it was a quiet and frosty night down in Moralton.