Chapter Text
Day… I lost track
I am a dead man. I am a bitter man. I am a useless man, and my mind is diseased.
I lost everything! Everything. Everyone. Why can't I handle it? I should be used to being alone. Get yourself together, Bitter.
Where is that Lorax, where are the Humming Fish? I can't leave. I think the entire ground is toxic. Don't panic, don't panic, keep calm…
It's been so long all my pens are dying, but that's not what matters. If I'd just kept that promise... But business… If I hadn't done it, then someone else would.
What is that sound? I think I heard the Humming Fish. Is that possible? It was more eerie than their usual hum, but it made me feel slightly less glum.
Oh great, I'm rhyming now. Keeping track of the days is driving me insane... I could leave this shack, but I wouldn't dare. I'd be instantly killed if I went out there.
I wonder what the other businessmen decided to do. They must all be in this situation too. But I'm the most valuable— Oh, what's the point? I'm the most useless guy in this joint.
I ended the world—I did that. Me. It's best if I just die alone, finally…
~*~
It was years before I was brave enough to let myself trip into the daylight, if it could be called that. No sun showed through the endless sheets of gray. The only light was a faint red glow on the horizon that made the earth look dark and like it was burning at the same time.
But when my foot touched the ground, I didn’t drop dead, and that surprised me. I’d thought the world had become as thoroughly corrupted as me.
There was a rustle from behind a dead thorn bush, and a small, mossy, brown hand reached out. The creature’s green eyes peered around the bramble, and I met the cold judgement within.
It was him. My conscience. I’d failed him.
“It was you who caused this, Twig.” He cradled a bear cub. Asleep or dying, I couldn’t tell. “No one but you,” he said. “Don’t think you can change things. We each only get one chance in this world. You’ll have to find someone else. Someone who cares an awful lot more than you did.”
His sawdusty voice filled the empty air of the wasteland. There were no other living creatures for miles. No plants, no animals, no people. Even the air tasted dead—dry and sour, slowly killing whoever breathed it.
"Now you must live with the curse you've brought upon yourself. The dead shall walk while the living wither. The earth will spit out the dead, while the living sink within."
The Lorax set down the motionless bear cub, then held something out to me. He dropped a weightless speck into one of my green gloved palms:
A seed. A shriveled little brown one with a crack through the middle that looked like it was already dead.
Then he turned away, and rose into the sky with his eyes closed, the thick clouds briefly moving to make a fiery red hole that he entered. Then they enveloped him, and I was alone.
This was it, the end result of my choices. I had nothing but my crooked old shack with its title scrambled so it now said "Lerkim." A fitting name, since all I could do was lurk. Through the destruction my factory had created, through the remnants of my short success. I'd never be able to show my face in society again.
A stale wind blew through my hair, reminding me there was no society anymore.
I looked at the unmoving bear cub at my feet. It was tiny, even for a Barbaloot, with a red sheen, and had a small rip in its left ear. I recognized the creature as it stirred.
"Pipsqueak?"
He shivered and blinked up at me, giving a silent yawn. I stepped back when his eyes opened.
"What the—"
Yellow light poured out of the sockets, like two flashlights, sweeping over my face.
Rrrrrrrrrrgh… Pipsqueak growled, but it wasn't the voice of the friend I'd made when the valley was in bloom. It was creaky and strained, over vocal cords that were shriveled and torn.
GHHHRRRRUUUOOAAARRRRGGGHHH!
I stumbled back as Pipsqueak's teeth chomped down on my shoe. With a cry, I flung him off, the leather having barely protected my skin. Thankfully my long legs easily brought distance between me and the tiny attacker, even as he charged at me with all his might.
"Pip! What's wrong with you?!"
I panted as we ran in circles. Then I took a stance like an outfielder ready to sprint around Pipsqueak into my house. But the rabid Barbaloot paced back and forth to block me—if rabid was the right word. I didn't know what was wrong with him, but he was sick, seriously sick.
Whatever curse the Lorax had been muttering about… I felt a chill just thinking about it… this was related.
Pipsqueak continued to pace in front of my Lerkim, as if he knew I needed to get back inside. I swore.
I threw a glance at the dead world over my shoulder—all colorless and covered in black ooze and thick smoke. I needed answers, even if it looked like there were none left. Slowly, my foot raised, and I let it hover as I contemplated what to do.
Finally, I swallowed. There wasn't a choice. Nothing was left for me in the Lerkim anyway; I'd run out of cans and water, and hadn't eaten in two days now. Staying would've been a more certain death than taking my chances in the unknown. It had only taken a zombified bear to give me the final push.
I threw off my top hat, tie, and jacket—old symbols of wealth that weighed me down—and turned into the wasteland in nothing but my plain dress shirt and pants. I peeled at my green silk gloves to cast them away too, but they remained stuck to my skin with sweat.
I sighed. Better keep them on for protection against whatever sickness had gotten to Pipsqueak.
Keeping my gaze over my shoulder to make sure he wasn't following me, I marched into the fog.
Civilization.
There had to be one out there somewhere. And if not…
Well, as the Lorax had said, I'd brought my fate upon myself.