Cw: under the influence of drugs, withdrawal symptoms including vomiting, abandoned
Whumpee was on their own, sat on a bench by themself. How long had it been since BiBi and ZaZa had gone away? Surely they would come back.
The stars began to peek through as the haze lifted from the drops.
BiBi and ZaZa still weren't back. Whumpee supposed they could wrap themselves in their blanket and wait a bit longer, eat some of the cereal that BiBi left them, and wait.
After what felt like hours, Whumpee had to take the blanket off despite the weather being on the chillier side. They were too sweaty.
It was dark out now, Whumpee didn't mind because the light hurt their eyes. Balling up the blanket as a pillow, they laid their head down and rested on the bench for a while. The cereal was coming back to haunt them in the worst way. It was whole grain loops, it shouldn't have made Whumpee that ill, if not for the drops. They hadn't had any in hours. Back at home, they were constantly on it.
Whumpee felt themselves begin to drool and their breathing picked up. Oh gods. Oh here it, here it comes. Whumpee managed to tip their head over the edge of the bench as bile and cereal flowed out with little effort aside from their screaming abdominal muscles. Retching and dry heaving, Whumpee wiped the remnants off their mouth and chin and flopped back down. That was better.
Managing to fall asleep, Whumpee dreamt of the home they were missing, the place they referred to as home for the past several months. Somewhere in Whumpee's brain, they knew it wasn't the right one but through the damage done by the repeated drugging and brainwashing, Whumpee couldn't remember. There were people aside from BiBi and ZaZa that were missing them, but Whumpee couldn't remember them either.
As the sun rose, Whumpee hid their face the best they could to avoid the sunlight. It was too bright. They fell back asleep until the sound of cars woke them.
A mother and her young son arrived. The little boy ran from the car to the swings, paying Whumpee no mind. As soon as the mother saw Whumpee, dressed in childish clothes and next to a pile of vomit, she was on the phone with the police.
Maybe that lady could help, maybe she knows BiBi and ZaZa!
Stiff, sore, and trembling, Whumpee made their way over to the horrified young woman.
"I-I don't want any trouble."
Looking up into her eyes, Whumpee asked so sweetly, "Have you seen my BiBi and ZaZa? They left me here yesterday and I'm waiting for them to come get me."
This was no drug addict after a rough night. This was no homeless person taking refuge at a park. This was an impaired adult who was lost and was likely abandoned.
"Uh-um you know what, I have not seen BiBi or ZaZa-" Whumpee teared up. "But, but listen! I know some nice people who can help! And I'll wait with you until they come." Whumpee smiled.
The young woman held the phone back up to her ear, confirmed her safety and asked instead of police, for an ambulance and a disabilities advocate.
