[It’s before Arthur gets into bed that a vision hit him.
He’s on the ground. He’s scared and it hurts and he doesn’t know what to do because they were his friends-they’re supposed to be his friends, so why were they doing this to him? Why? Why?!]
Get up.
[It’s not Arthur talking-not who he is right now anyway. It’s someone else.
He looks up from the concrete ground-only a little bit-to see dog’s paws. Like King, they’re standing on two feet, but these ones are bigger than King, and covered in black fur.
He’s afraid, because he knows what’s coming. If he gets up, he’s just going to be kicked down again. If he stays down, he’ll get scratched or bitten again. They’re going to hurt him again and he doesn’t know what to do.
A foot comes down on his right arm, and while it doesn’t break, the pressure starts building and he’s quickly in pain.]
I said Get. Up.
[He tries to get up, but the foot on his arm doesn’t let up. He tries to suppress his cries, but they come out as choked sobs. He wanted to help them before-why were they doing this to him?!
Then, a second voice.]
I told you we should’ve dumped him in the river.
[He looks to his right, and there’s a white-furred, clearly malnourished cat. On two legs and only a couple inches shorter than him. His yellow eyes glare down at him, before turning away.]
It would’ve ended things much sooner.
SHUT UP!
[The cat doesn’t even flinch at the large dog’s yelling.]
We’re not letting ‘em find him! We’re makin’ sure they never find him, got it?!
[The cat sighs before giving a sarcastic reply.]
Whatever you say, Boss.
[Just like that, the pressure on his arm is gone, but it’s quickly replaced with two big paws grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. He’s face to face with the dog, now. The dog’s green eyes are boring into him. The scratches over the dog’s eye makes the dog more intimidating than sympathetic now. And despite that the dog, too, seems to be starving, the snarl on the dog’s face makes the dog scarier than he’s ever thought of before.]
When I tell you to do something, you do it. Got it?
[He doesn’t say anything. He’s trying to blink away the tears. He wants to go home-]
I SAID GOT IT?!
[He nods rapidly, and the dog drops him to the ground. He’s on his hands and knees, and there’s blood coming out from under one of his hands-his human hands-and the dog grumbles something, but he’s not thinking about that. He’s thinking about his mom and his dad, and his house, and his bed, and every nice thing he had in his life before.
Joel Robinson wants to go home.
And then Arthur’s back. Back by his bed. Back in his small house. Back in the town with fifteen strangers.]
Before Going to Bed, on Wednesday Night (CW: Child abuse and Malnourished Animals)
He’s on the ground. He’s scared and it hurts and he doesn’t know what to do because they were his friends-they’re supposed to be his friends, so why were they doing this to him? Why? Why?!]
Get up.
[It’s not Arthur talking-not who he is right now anyway. It’s someone else.
He looks up from the concrete ground-only a little bit-to see dog’s paws. Like King, they’re standing on two feet, but these ones are bigger than King, and covered in black fur.
He’s afraid, because he knows what’s coming. If he gets up, he’s just going to be kicked down again. If he stays down, he’ll get scratched or bitten again. They’re going to hurt him again and he doesn’t know what to do.
A foot comes down on his right arm, and while it doesn’t break, the pressure starts building and he’s quickly in pain.]
I said Get. Up.
[He tries to get up, but the foot on his arm doesn’t let up. He tries to suppress his cries, but they come out as choked sobs. He wanted to help them before-why were they doing this to him?!
Then, a second voice.]
I told you we should’ve dumped him in the river.
[He looks to his right, and there’s a white-furred, clearly malnourished cat. On two legs and only a couple inches shorter than him. His yellow eyes glare down at him, before turning away.]
It would’ve ended things much sooner.
SHUT UP!
[The cat doesn’t even flinch at the large dog’s yelling.]
We’re not letting ‘em find him! We’re makin’ sure they never find him, got it?!
[The cat sighs before giving a sarcastic reply.]
Whatever you say, Boss.
[Just like that, the pressure on his arm is gone, but it’s quickly replaced with two big paws grabbing him by the collar of his shirt. He’s face to face with the dog, now. The dog’s green eyes are boring into him. The scratches over the dog’s eye makes the dog more intimidating than sympathetic now. And despite that the dog, too, seems to be starving, the snarl on the dog’s face makes the dog scarier than he’s ever thought of before.]
When I tell you to do something, you do it. Got it?
[He doesn’t say anything. He’s trying to blink away the tears. He wants to go home-]
I SAID GOT IT?!
[He nods rapidly, and the dog drops him to the ground. He’s on his hands and knees, and there’s blood coming out from under one of his hands-his human hands-and the dog grumbles something, but he’s not thinking about that. He’s thinking about his mom and his dad, and his house, and his bed, and every nice thing he had in his life before.
Joel Robinson wants to go home.
And then Arthur’s back. Back by his bed. Back in his small house. Back in the town with fifteen strangers.]