Forever To Be Free. (Finale of That Time in 1987)

The Cruelty

Bonnie's POV

(Sorry about that last chapter heh)

A month passed since Ben's death, but the pain of watching that boy die still resided with them as though it were yesterday.

Bonnie remembered the boy's bright blue eyes. He may have been serious when they'd first met him, but as they got to know him, he turned into a real boy. A child. And after months upon months of torment from Jonathan, he had finally been rescued and brought home.

He was happy. Ben was happy where he was. And even worse, they'd vowed to protect the boy. And what did they do? Stand and do nothing? For days upon days, Bonnie conflicted and began hating herself for not running out, possibly taking the shards of glass for him. Instead, she endured much worse pain. She had to watch the boy, already pale and skinny, shrivel up into a scared little boy with blood spattered all over his body.

But the balloons. The balloons Freddy had put under Ben's body had floated away. Bonnie decided that Ben had taken them out and floated away on them. Was that why he loved balloons? Was it because he just wanted to soar into the sky with them? That was the saddest part to think about. He had dreams, like everyone else. But they weren't fulfilled. Ben died young.

Ben died young.

That sweet, innocent boy died--

No, Bonnie snapped mentally, slapping herself mentally as well. Don't think of it all. You already had to watch that boy die in front of you, completely helpless--

Stop. Just stop.

The gang had stayed at Ben's house, using it as a safe haven. Bonnie sat outside on the swing set, contemplating everything they'd been through and seen. Foxy sat next to her, silent. Bonnie only stared at the spot Ben once laid, bleeding. There was a patch of dead grass there. Dead.

They always expected Ben's parents to come home, but they never did. Did Ben have parents? What happened to them? It was strange and sad to think Ben even had parents. They would have been worried sick to find that their son was kidnapped for six months, tortured, and brought back. Even worse, they would be devastated to find that their son was dead. 

It was comforting to not remember Ben ever mentioning his parents.

Snow began to fall, but it was in light tufts. It was December 14, 1989. One more decade until the 2000's--turn of an entire millennium. That was hard to think about. So much time had passed and they were all only fourteen years old. Well, other than Fred. 

"Bonnie," Foxy mumbled, "what are we gonna do?"

Bonnie looked at him, a sick feeling in her stomach. "I don't know, Foxy. I don't know."

"Let's talk about something happy," Foxy said after a small hesitation. 

"Like what?" asked Bonnie.

Foxy looked up, looking around for a bit. "Uhh . . ." he mused. "I heard that the Swifts down the street from me had a baby yesterday."

Bonnie smiled. Better to talk about birth than death. "What's her name?"

Foxy smiled. Bonnie liked his smile. "I heard it was Taylor or something," he said.

Bonnie looked down at the frosted grass. With the snow lightly falling, her thoughts shifted to a near holiday. Christmas. She could just remember it clearly. When she was a child, she would always write a letter to Santa, asking for a new doll or something of the sort. Waking up on Christmas morning, the ground blanketed in snow, the fire so delightful, Bonnie would run downstairs and wait for her parents to come down so she could open presents. She thought of all the beautiful things Christmas would bring once it came. 

They couldn't spend it risking their lives.

"We should spend Christmas here," Bonnie said softly. "We haven't heard much about Jonathan's terror on the news, so we should be safe as long as he's not hurting anyone."

Foxy let out a small laugh. "I wonder where he is . . ."

"Probably plotting his next move. We should do the same."

"What's the point? That man is immortal. We can't kill him with force. Our best move is to . . . to . . ."

"To what?" Foxy asked.

Bonnie turned her head toward him. "To change him. Words have got to change something in him, right?"

"In a man like him? Please, he's evil to the core. We can't change that."

"Or can we?"

"No," Foxy snapped. "We can't change him. We've gotta do something else."

"Foxy, I'm scared. I'm scared of what's gonna happen. I don't like what's happening right now."

"I'm scared too, Bonnie, but we need to keep going. Giving up won't help us at all."

They stared at each other for a while. Bonnie suddenly just wanted to kiss him. It wasn't the moment, though. Somewhere, in another life, there was an innocent young boy. Dead. Not a time to kiss.

But Bonnie couldn't help herself. She pushed herself over to Foxy and tugged his shirt gently. He pulled in until their lips were pressed together. They held it there for a little while.

No, we can't kiss right now.

Bonnie pulled away and looked up into Foxy's eyes. They stared at each other for a while, and Bonnie could feel him thinking the same things as her. 

"C'mere," Foxy mumbled, wrapping an arm around Bonnie and pulling her in. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. Bonnie felt comforted around Foxy, like nothing would ever pull them apart. 

"We've seen so much," Bonnie whispered. Foxy rubbed her back lightly. "Ben's right. We're living the wrong childhood. Our childhood isn't supposed to be spent risking our lives everyday, but we can't go on living when there's a threat living in this very world at this very moment. And . . . and we're the only ones who can stop it."

"Let's just stay here for a bit," Foxy said quietly. Bonnie felt his arms tighten around her, and she felt assured. Assured that maybe, just maybe, everything will be okay.