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We opened the door to his old room, every surface caked in dust and the floor covered in piles and piles of clothes.
“Oh… I forgot how messy it was” He blurts out from behind me, “Wait…”
“What?”
“Why is there someone in my bed?” Pip points to the figure underneath his covers. I put my arm in front of Pip to protect him and carefully approach the bed and lift the blanket.
All that’s under there are a variety of pillows shaped to look like a person.
“That's… weird” Pip remarks, “Why were those there?”
“Hm... I don’t know,”
I totally know.
I look down to the floor and see one of our old high school yearbooks from 20XX. I pick it up and take a good look at it. Pip comes over to me and swishes his tail-like cord. We open to our grade page and I skim the page for a name that says ███████ Poindexter. When I finally find the old photo of me, I see Pip’s annotated the page. There’s a circle around my photo, an arrow, and the word ‘LAME >:(‘
“Awh, come on, I’m not that la-”
“No, you totally were. Nobody liked you. Except me.”
“Nuh-uh,” I turn my head to the side.
“Uh-huh”
“Otto liked me, so did Spencer,”
“Nobody except me, Otto, and Spencer,”
“What about Daisy and Bella?”
“Them too,” Pip hoards all his old plushies on the bed, most of them being cats, “I miss this room,” He gets up and takes his stuffed cat to another room with him.
I remain there and continue to go through old things until I find a box labeled “SPIDERS”. Of course, I freak out and don’t open it, wondering what horrors may be inside. I pick up the box and rush to where Pip is, “PIP, PII–IP”
I find him holding an old photo album in his parents’ old room and he tilts his head.
“PIP WHY DO YOU HAVE A BOX OF SPIDERS ?!?!?!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK!!!!” I scream. Ever since I was little I HATED insects, spiders, and anything creepy or crawly.
His eyes widen and he quickly snatches the box away from me, “DID YOU OPEN IT???”
“NO??? WHY WOULD I?”
He sighs and calms down, “Oh–okay then”
I stared at the box of spiders and wondered why Pip reacted so frantically. Was it because he wanted to keep me safe or is he hiding something?
Pip returns to his room and returns the box to where it was. I still stare at it, Why does he have a box of Spiders and what does he want to do with it?
≻─────────────────────── ⋆ ☎️🕹️ ⋆ ───────────────────────≺
I put the box back where it was and went back to the room that my parents used to sleep in; mostly just my dad since my mom died when I was 10. Similar to mine, their room was covered in dust. The wall color was a soft, pastel pink, and the floor was a once-soft, black carpet. On the walls, there were posters for WHAM!, my dad’s favorite band, and Depeche Mode, my mother’s favorite.
They were also decorated with various real and fake plants (the real ones obviously being dead) and now broken string lights. Dad used to do woodwork in his free time and made little shelves and decorations, he even made me a cat cutout that he helped me paint. He also loved gardening, cooking, and especially computers. I wish he got to do those things more often, he seemed happier.
I approached the worn-out desk that he used to work at and even though it was clothed in dust, I could tell something was different about it. I look down at the stuffed kitty I was holding, it was one that Dad gave to me when I was little.
There’s a box sitting on the desk and on the opposite side is a monstrous blood stain. I stand and stare, trying not to cry. Is this all my fault? I think. If I never put myself in that cabinet, would he still be here?
All the thoughts come to my mind as I hold back the tears. I don’t like it here anymore. I want to go home. I don’t like thinking about what happened to Dad. It makes me feel all queasy and mushy inside.
I miss him. He didn’t deserve to die like that, he was the kindest man I knew.
“Pip?” I’m pulled out of my thoughts. I turn around to look at him, “Pip, are you okay?”
Everything comes crashing down and I quickly wrap my arms around him, resting my head and weeping on his shoulder. I shift most of my weight to him, causing him to fall onto my parent’s bed. He doesn’t seem to mind that much and just holds and comforts me. Joey soothingly rubs my back but looks a little uncomfortable.
I’m a little confused, wondering why he looks like that until I remember he can’t really get out from underneath me now (Arcade machine robots/cyborgs are heavy).
“OH!” I quickly and awkwardly get off of him.
Joey sits up, “Pip? What happened?” He asks.
I’m able to choke out only one word, “D–Dad,” I look back to the desk and start to wonder what’s in the box. I stand up, wiping my tears. I take the box and sit back down next to Joey.
He looks at it curiously, “What that?”
I stare down at it, “Not sure,” I gently unclip the latch, and inside are various items: A note, his watch, one of Mom’s necklaces, photographs, and a locket. (There are probably more things in there but I don’t want to go into that much detail).
I take the note out first and unfold it, the note reading:
“Dear Percival,
I don’t know if you’ll ever see this, or where you went, but if you do ever happen to find this, I’m so sorry. After your mother’s death, I was already starting to go downhill. I know I must’ve already hurt you from my excessive drinking, and I’m sorry. I know I wasn’t violent, but seeing your father sobbing every night after he drinks so much to the point of passing out couldn’t have been good for you. I know how that must’ve felt, my dad was a drunk too. That’s why I never let you see or mention Grandpa, and for every time I yelled at you or sobbed in front of you I’m so sorry. And I’m sorry for what I’m about to do. I can’t take it anymore, when you went missing the only thing keeping me in this life left with you, because it was you. You were keeping me here. But please, don’t feel as if it’s your fault. I’ve been going downhill for a long time, I most likely would have done this whether you went missing or not.
I’ll be with you soon, Vienna. I love you both.
-Dad.”
I know I shouldn’t blame myself, He doesn’t want me to, but I can’t not blame myself. I chose to put myself in that cabinet and I chose to run away. It wasn’t his fault, everything was just stressful at the time.
Joey holds me as I sob more, rubbing my back in a comforting circular motion. Joey’s touch feels nice, It always does, but all the thoughts coming to my head about my dad made everything he did almost unnoticeable.
He gently pats the top of my head, “It’s not your fault,” He whispers.
“THEN WHY DO I FEEL LIKE THIS?!” I snap at him, startling him a little. My eyes widen and I begin sobbing more.
Joey just brushes it off, “I don’t know, but I believe in you,”
His words cause my sobbing to come to a halt but I still have staticy tears ‘falling’ down my face.
“Just take deep breaths,” He says as I still tightly clutching onto him. I comply, inhaling deeply before exhaling. After awhile of doing this, my heart rate lowers and I’m able to calm down.
“I’m sorry,” Joey says, and I shake my head and look back up at him.
“It’s okay” I wrap my arms around him once more with a bittersweet smile. As much as I miss my Dad, I’m happy that I have Joey now.
When I let go of him, I remember the box lying on Dad’s old desk. I’ve been so overwhelmed that I almost completely forgot about it!
I reach into the box and pull out a few photos, one of them being a picture of my mom, dad, and I spending time at the arcade. It was my eighth birthday and I was eating pizza between them. There were a few other photos but what caught my eye the most was a rose-gold, heart-shaped locket. I open it, revealing three photos that extend to my mom, my dad, and me.
“Joey… do you think they’re in a good place now?” I ask, my gaze still fixed upon the locket.
I see Joey nod from the corner of my eye and he pulls me into a side hug,
“I’m sure of it”
≻─────────────────────── ⋆ ☎️🕹️ ⋆ ───────────────────────≺
After a few more hours, Pip and I decide that we’re done here for the day, but before we leave, I take a look at that spider box again.
The box of spiders sits on Pip’s dresser. I take my bag and quickly slip it in before I hear Pip, “JOEYYYY HURRY UP!!”
I rush down the stairs with my bag and we go back to our apartment.
…
I look out the window; It’s getting late. Pip sits on our bed (a mattress on the floor), holding the toy kitty from his childhood. He just sits there, staring at it and talking to himself.
I sit down next to him, “Pippy? What’s wrong?”
“Oh… just… everything that happened today… It was all really exhausting… Is it okay if I go to bed?”
“Of course, honey, I’ll be here for you in the morning,” I kiss his marquee and help tuck him into bed. Pip keeps the plush cat close to him the whole time.
Pip yawns, “Joey?”
“Hm?”
“I’m sorry for yelling at you earlier,”
“It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean to,”
“Thank you for everything…” he gives me a sweet, sleepy smile.
“You’re welcome,” I kiss his marquee again.
“I love you, Joey”
“I love you too,” I make sure that Pip is as comfortable as possible before shutting off the light and going back to the living room.
I pull out the box of spiders in the dimly lit room, examining the box carefully. Before even thinking about opening the box, I put on some rubber gloves so they don’t get my hands all messy.
I think again; Do I really want to open this? I hate spiders, hell I hate bugs in general. They’re terrifying, I don’t want them crawling on me and I don’t like looking at them.
I look down towards the box again, remembering how Pip reacted when I found this. I close my eyes as I open it, expecting the worst.
I take a deep breath and open it.
These aren’t spiders.
In the box is a myriad of folded papers with a few other things scattered within.
I tilt my head, taken aback yet glad there aren’t any spiders. Then I take a look back at the label. Why was it labeled ‘SPIDERS’ in the first place?
I take one of the pieces of the paper out and unfold it. On the paper, there appears to be a message in some of the worst yet somewhat legible handwriting I’ve ever seen. There’s a date at the top, July 24th, 20XX. This is back to when we were in seventh grade.
The first words are ‘Dear’ followed by… my dead name? It was probably someone else, why would Pip write a letter to me in seventh grade? I mean we were sort of friends at the time, but we didn’t talk every day.
“Dear ███████
I want you to know how stupid and dum you are and I DONT like you!!! Your lame and your a loser and i dont like your stupid red hair or your stupid NERD glasses and I HATE YOU.
But also you’re fun to listen to and you’re fun to make fun of and I like it when you come over. I guess I like some things about you then. BUT I STILL HATE YOU
-Percy”
Back in our early teens, Pip wasn’t always the nicest to me. I still hung out with him but back then he’s always made petty remarks about me and I never really knew why. Of course, he’s apologized by now but I always wanted to find a reason why he hated me so much back then.
I pull out a second folded paper, this one being from a later date. I’ve noticed that both his handwriting and some of his grammar’s improved. He’s also using my preferred name now
“November 20th 20XX
Dear Joey,
Your new name is hard to get used to but I like it, it suits you more than the other one, but your still a LOSER with a LAME LOSER NAME. If you want to be any cooler maybe you should talk to me more, that’ll totally make you cooler. You MIGHT be getting better at not being a LAME DUMMY though. But i still think you and your stupid glasses are stupid and nobody likes you!!
P.S. Good idea coming to my birthday yesterday, Maybe you’re not as lame as I thought.
-Percy”
This letter is similar to the last but it seems a little nicer? Not really. I don’t remember going to his birthday either. Maybe that’s just my memory being terrible.
I take out a third one, this one being written in pen.
“September 31st, 20XX
Dear Joey,
I really like you AS A FRIEND and want to do more things and I want to be closer to you but I don’t know how to tell you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot more often and I think what would be different if you were my best friend. I mean, I know I have Spencer and I know I wouldn’t want to be caught dead with a NERD like you.
But something about you gives me this feeling I don’t know how to describe. I hate you but also I want to be with you.
P.S. Don’t mind the things I gave you, my dad made me get them for your birthday.
P.P.S. You should listen to this cool band my dad showed me, their called oingo boingo or something.
-Percy”
I noticed how different this note was from the other two, this one being a little nicer. Also, this was written around October. My birthday is in May, and what did he mean by “Things he gave me”?
I pull out the second to last piece of paper, this one being much longer.
“December 18th, 20XX,
Dear Joey,
I’m tired of hiding my feelings from you so much and I wish I could tell you how I really felt. I know how many times I’ve called you lame and a loser, but deep down I don’t see you that way. Yeah, you may be nerdy and conspiracies may be a weird subject, but everything about you just draws me in.
I love your dumb laugh and your stupid smile, I love how you can go on about your interests for hours, I love how you flap your hands when you get so excited, I love how you love to dress fancy. You’re weird and lame but that's what I like about you, you’re not afraid to be yourself and I wish I could be like that.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love you. I love you and I hate myself for it. I wish I wasn’t so mean to you to cover everything up. I wish that you didn’t see me as some snarky kid who just liked to make fun of you. I’m sorry for every time I said anything mean to you or hurt you. I’m sorry that I always covered up my true feelings by calling you a loser. I don’t know if I’ll ever send this to you but I needed to get this out somewhere.
-Love, Percy”
I sit there holding the note with my mouth agape. I repeatedly reread it what felt like a trillion times. Pip was only mean to me because… he liked me? Ever since we met when we were kids I wondered why he hated me so much and I never expected it to be that he LIKED me.
This answers all the questions I had about him when I was younger! If I knew this was how he felt I would’ve asked him out years ago! I can’t say it's not a relief; I’ve always wondered what made him go from hating to loving me.
I pull out what I think is a final note and open it to see that it’s in fact not a note but a collection of doodles.
The first one that catches my eye is a drawing of us together with our hands in the air that says “PIP + JOEY 4EVER!”. I see another drawing, this one being a doodle of him as a black cat and myself as a red one. The cat version of him is holding my paw and has a face that looks like o>▽<o and I have a face that looks like o>w<o. There are more doodles of us, one of them being of us at the arcade. The doodle page is decorated with hearts drawn in pink and red pen.
I stare down at the paper, a smile as wide as my face will let me forming on my face as I let out an “aww”. It was undeniably one of the most adorable things I’ve ever seen. I feel fuzzy inside and my legs start bouncing. I have to put the paper down to make sure I don’t damage it as I flap my hands, squealing. I tense up, relax, and admire the doodle page.
I turn my attention back to the remaining items in the box. I first pull out some long-dead pansies, my favorite flower. They’re so delicate that simply holding them causes them to crumble. The next things in the box are two expired bars of chocolate. He must've known I liked it but now I’d rather not eat them. Then, I pulled out two books: one of them was a new journal and the other one had a title that read “Ancient Aliens and Secret Societies”. If I could I would start reading the book right now but there’s still one last item in the box, a small stuffed possum on a keychain.
Just like before, I’m smiling as wide as I can. Oh my god, I love him so much.
I put the items back in the box, wondering what could happen if Pip found out I opened it. I put the box back in my bag and went back to our bedroom.
I creak open the door of the room to see Pip snuggled into bed and cuddling with the stuffed kitty from earlier. I smile gently, he’s so adorable when he’s asleep.
I approach the bed and crawl underneath the covers beside him. I lean up against him and close my eyes, letting the melodic beeping of his heart lull me into a deep sleep.