PA 3.5: End of a Tail

Chapter XI Part I

There was nothing around him but the sensation that comes with knowing one is dreaming. A vast starry void began to grow from the nothing, and Patches could feel the stray words flit through the air like ashes. He had dreamed in such a way before - that is to say, lucidly - however, aside from the visuals and perceived droning sounds that acted as a backdrop, there was nothing to be found. The dreamscape seemed almost like a prison, as Patches found each minute to pass like an hour. He quickly turned inwards to his thoughts, terminating the stars as anything but himself became blurry and dark.

'What is wrong with me?' He couldn't hear the words, but he knew he had said them aloud. It wasn't a bad question to ask; there was something wrong with everyone, and room was always there for improvement. However, Patches knew what the words meant to him at that moment. He had suffered another 'Angel', and like before, was suffering through the heartbreak of the situation, despite himself. He so desperately wanted to move on from Hachiko, but his soul twisted in torment whenever he even considered doing anything but devoting his life to hurting those who had scarred him.

The soothing sensation of sleep washed over his usual confidence. As his dream became nothing but the exploration of his own mind, he was finally able to admit the coldest truth to himself. 'They'll never take me back.' They never would, Patches had been given his second chance and flubbed it up by letting his emotions get in the way. Even Olive had turned their back on him; they had expected a week's worth of sleepovers and "furendship" to cure a half decade's worth of neglect.

For five years, he had prayed someone would take him out of his isolated stupor, and when he had finally been found, it was glorious. It barely mattered to Patches that the cat was a cat or that he was two years younger and far less mature; he had finally been loved - however briefly - by anybody at all. He hated how attached he got to the cat and how disproportionately he cared for him, especially knowing Angel was ultimately toying with him the whole time, just as he had done at the communal day.

It didn't matter, though- much like every other time he had tried to co-exist with the rest of the world, he was rejected and abandoned. He had been lonely for so long that the aching longing for companionship became almost pleasurable rather than painful. Patches had learnt to twist his sadness into a weapon, as all the moping in the world wouldn't do him any good.

His thoughts drifted to what had happened earlier in the day. It was very productive- kidnapping Brownie, interrogating her, intercepting the Hachiko students, taunting them...

He had almost gotten his paws on a wand, and for a moment, he lamented the fact but quickly began to reflect on Dell's words, "I still trust you... but I don't think you can trust yourself." Was she right? Was she even telling the truth? So many before her had lied and betrayed Patches, but she was seemingly aware of his intentions and worked with him despite that.

Trust or not, she was right in a way. Patches had so many regrets he had buried under practiced callousness; he would have surely met some worse fate a long time ago were it not for his projected air of nonchalant snark. He was a hazard, not a murderer; no matter what he tried, he would hurt the ones around him. He then asked himself, what could be done? Death was not an escape from his emotions, and there would be no way to reconcile what had happened. His only option was to end these emotions by ending the people who had sowed them in the first place.

Patches began to feel his body shimmer and fade, becoming like a light as he closed his eyes and let sleep take him from the dream. He had always imagined if waking from a dream was what it was like to die- sudden and with a stale feeling of dread, but then again, death barely existed anymore.

Patches suddenly sat up, immediately regretting the action, as the makeshift splint poked his chest, stopping him from getting up and hurting his ribs more than they already were. He felt an intense rush as he woke up in a stranger's bed, but as his memories came back to him, he calmed down.