Chapter Text
Nobody has any idea what happened that night. All Red knew is that he wanted out. Right then and there. So he just kept driving and driving in that silly little car. He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. It just all happened so fast.
“Where are we going? I want to go back now.” Said Yellow.
Red wished so much that he could be left alone. To drive, that is. He needed to watch where they were going, to make sure he could leave this place. What if he crashed into a tree, all because of Yellow? He needed focus, and he needed alone time. But Yellow did not seem to understand.
“No, you’re going to love it, ok? We’re going away.” He explained (quite poorly).
“But where?” He pestered.
Red felt a sort of anger begin inside of him. He gripped the wheel. He didn’t really know. He just wanted neighbors. And friends. And maybe even a job. Why couldn’t Yellow just understand that? Why was he being so selfish?
“Hm. This is getting boring now. All it is is grass, rock, tree, grass, rock, tree, grass… rock… tree! I’m sure more is going on at home.” Said Green.
Now Green? He couldn’t take this. He needed quiet to drive. He needed OUT OF THIS WORLD.
“Nothing ever happens there. We’re going somewhere… Somewhere new.” Said Red, trying to make them realize. Maybe if he could explain, they would stop. But in truth, he didn’t know how to describe his feelings or where they were or why he had to escape.
“But WHERE? And even less happens here. I want my newspaper and I want my chair. I don’t know what you want.” Said Green, getting more pushy by the minute.
“Yes, I think I might like my chair right now too.” Joined Yellow.
Red felt the rage build up to a point he could no longer handle. Too much was going on, too many people attacking him, people that were supposed to be his friends. Nobody understood, nobody would listen, nobody would be quiet. Red exploded.
“SHUT UP!” Screamed Red, his foot pressed far too hard against the poor little car’s gas pedal.
With that, they hit an almost barrier of sorts. The sounds of metal being twisted and crumbled boomed. Red snaps forward and his head hits the wheel, and he hears Green honk a honk of discomfort and Yellow give an oomph as they’re flung against the chairs to the front of them. His ears ring loud and hard and he hears TV static and he sees red and blue and black and white. There’s so much going on at the same time that he can’t even think, only feel pain and fear as his heart has dropped to his stomach and his body seems to be on fire. Then it stops, and black is all he sees, no mixes of blue or red or white. He blinks, and stays there for a moment, his back hunched and his knees almost jammed to the very edge of the car. His body feels drained of blood and uncomfortable, the stinging of his wounds fresh. He isn’t really sure what happened. Taking his head off the wheel he sees the car’s front is smashed into a mailbox and he’s at a house looking almost identical to theirs. Scratch that, several houses, some looking quite different then the one in front of him. The car door suddenly gives a high-pitched screech and falls off the frame and sinks in the plants beneath.
“Well, that was the most uncomfortable experience I’ve ever had in my entire life.” Said Green, shaking himself off as he stepped out of the car.
Yellow gets out after him. He looks around and sets his sights on the house their car had stopped at.
“Look!” He said, pointing with his mouth gaped open. “It looks like our house. Are we home?”
Red looks. He was right, it was almost identical, except for the details. It was less bright, less “fuzzy”, less of a child’s playhouse. But it was still, all the same, their house.
“Oh so I guess I just did all of that for nothing what a useless damn ride that was-” Red babbled, but was interrupted.
“Who cares. We’re home now. Let’s go in. I want my chair now.” Said Green.
“Yes, I think so too.” Said Yellow.
Red tensed and looked down to the ground, watching the blood from his forehead drip onto the sidewalk. It didn't look like there was a choice. There was no escape, why did he even try? In fact, he seemed to have made it worse, the color of their house had been drained. As he went up the steps, Green tried to open the door.
“It won’t open!” Said Green.
“That’s weird. Why not?” Asked Yellow.
“Well, I don’t know! I’ll try this instead.”
Green banged on the door, as if that would help. It did not help. It did nothing.
“HEY! Let us in!” Yelled Green.
“That’s not going to open doors, idiot.” Said Red.
“It’s all your fault we’re in this position in the first place! Stop it with that. If you're so great, open the door. Do it.” Said Green.
So he did. He pulled and pulled and pulled and pulled until he got so mad he punched the door. The wood splintered a little, and his hand hurt.
“See?” Said Green. Red gave an angry shrug and stepped out of the way.
“Let me try!” Said Yellow with enthusiasm.
But he did not get to try, Red saw his hand stood hovering over the gold knob as sirens began. Very loud sirens. Red’s eyes widened and he felt his mouth drop slightly agape as he watched the street; black and white cars with blaring blue and red lights pulled up.
Police.
They got out and began shouting, pointing guns.
“Get down! Get down! You’re under arrest for trespassing and destruction of private property!”
Red felt a shiver of relief go through him. Even through their screams, he couldn’t feel anything but. He saw Yellow looking around, for someone to say something or give him directions, but Red did nothing. Not one thing. He closed his eyes and breathed, ignoring what his friends were saying to the cops next to him
“We said GET DOWN!”
Red laid on his belly and spread his fingers out on the cool, textured cement. His friends did the same next to him, but more unsure, more shaky. He felt a man firmly take his hands and pin them to his back. Cold chains come over his wrists. They said something about his rights, and threw him and his friends in the car. But he wasn’t listening.
Yellow and Green squirmed and yelled, not knowing what was going on, confused and hurt but Red did not care. Not one bit.
He was out. And that made it worth it to him.
…
Yellow is bundled up in blankets by the fireplace. He is warm, but he does not FEEL warm. He had lost his home, and he missed it a lot. He felt distant from everything and sad. Very, very, very sad. That was not even enough “verys”, because it did not express the pain in his chest, but he did not know how else to express it. So he is very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very, very sad.
After the police took them, they were asked mean questions that nobody should have to answer. They said something about him and Red needing to go into a “mental hospital” and then wanted insurance. When Red said that they didn’t have insurance (or a house), they were taken here.
“Here” is a place for homeless people. It is called Road of Hope for the Homeless. When a few days had passed, and Yellow had realized they weren’t leaving this place, Yellow went to Red and said he did not like it here. Red said he would feel better by the fire. He did not feel better. He wanted to lay in his bed, and sit in his chair, and be at his table. But he couldn’t do any of that now. Not anymore.
Yellow sat there, thinking very hard, and he began to shake, his breath shivering violently. But he wasn’t cold. Then tears welled in his eyes, and wet streaks went and fell from his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around himself and his stare bored at the ground. He sat there a long time.
Then, Red came into view. He turned his head, his face having a dumbfounded sort of look. Red said nothing of his damp face.
“Look!” A phone was shoved in his face. It read Construction Worker. “I found a job. I sent in an application, I’m sure I’ll get it.” His expression was brighter than Yellow had ever seen it, and his voice was high.
“If I get it, we might be able to rent a place a few blocks from here.”
Yellow nodded. He didn’t know what he was supposed to say. Was he supposed to be happy? How could Red expect something like that? He turned away.
Red said nothing more. He heard his footsteps get far, and they faded out. Yellow got closer to the fire, and squeezed his eyes shut.
When would this nightmare end?