Journal of a Transformee Pt. 5

Aiden here again, and serious talk now, okay? No lengthy intros, no jokes or stalling, I’m getting right to the point this time. Remember the last journal? Specifically the ending or it? Yeah, well, we found out why Wick’s been off the radar recently.

He’s been in the hospital.

Yep, that’s right. My guess would’ve been that he wanted to stay away from the public eye for a while, but it turned out to be quite a bit more serious than that.

See, Robin and I were the ones to find out first. As mentioned in the last journal, I said that I would try to head to his house to check if things were alright, and I did manage to earlier today, with a little help from Robin.

Wick’s place is on the other side of town in a bit of a dirtier neighborhood, so with the combined length of the trip, my sluggishness, and Robin’s hesitation to head into the neighborhood, it took quite a bit longer than we anticipated. Nonetheless, we managed to get there, and man do I wish we were faster.

Wick’s father answered the door, a surprise to us as Wick himself usually did. But, we weren’t nearly as stunned he was, no doubt from being greeted by two anthros as his door. I guess not everybody is completely used to us, but whatever.

“Uh, hi, Mr. Aaron!” Robin greeted for the both of us. “We’re friends of Wick, and we were just visiting to check up on him.”

Mr. Aaron shook his head a couple times, as if clearing his head. “O-Oh, yeah. Aiden and Robin, right? He said something about you two being animals before…”

“Um…” was about all I could contribute to the conversation.

“Yep!” Robin chimed. “That’s us! And don’t worry, we don’t bite. Is Wick around? I mean, I think he’s kinda like us now, right? Hey, what animal is he anyway?”

Way to go, bunny.

Just like that, the mood seemed to plummet, a heavy weight falling upon all of us as Mr. Aaron’s expression dropped to something of anxiousness.

“Mr. Aaron...?” I questioned as the man fell silent.

“S-Sorry,” the man murmured. “Wick’s not here. He’s been in the hospital for the past couple days…”

That line was like a knife to the chest. A sharp gasp came from Robin beside me. I mean, the situation and reason wasn’t quite as serious as I may be making it out to be (I think. I’ll get to the reason later.), but how else am I supposed to react at the discovery that someone I know is stuck in the hospital?

“We made a mistake,” Mr. Aaron continued vaguely. “When we found out that Wick drank that stuff, we panicked and sent to get his stomach pumped. I know, the whole transforming thing isn’t that big of a deal. After all, here are two of you, standing right in front of me, completely fine. I’m honestly not used to these animal people, I’m sorry. But Wick… Something… strange happened after his stomach was pumped. Something took effect, but not really at the same time.”

“Is… Is he okay?” Robin pressed. “Please tell me he’s okay…”

There it was again, that nervous head shaking. “I don’t know…”

“Come on, Aiden!” Robin yelped, gripping my hand and yanking me away. I still felt paralyzed, even thought I knew I shouldn’t have. I suppose it was just the tone of Mr. Aaron’s voice, as if he was describing a death, not stomach pumping (I mean… Is stomach pumping a really serious thing?). In any case, off to the hospital we went.

My own town doesn’t have a hospital of its own since, you know, it’s practically nothing, so the hospital in the next town over is the one we use. Again, it was quite the dragging travel, or rather, it would’ve been if we weren’t running as if we were being chased by a pack of wolves. Again, I know, we probably overreacted, but we were just concerned for Wick, okay? That has to mean something.

I calmed myself as much as I could before entering the building when we arrived, but it was obvious Robin didn’t care about looking a little crazy bursting through the doors like a character in a soap opera (She has that tendency, that silly bunny.). Despite that, I managed to silently convince her to keep quiet by the front desk and let me do the talking that time. Sure enough, besides a rather harsh look from the nurse behind the counter, it worked in getting us a visit.

Three halls down, the back wing, room 230. As soon as the directions were told, Robin gripped my wrist again and just about bolted down the nearest corridor (DAMN is she strong when she’s panicking!), me stumbling behind to keep up.

I was nearly flung into the room as we reached the numbered door, bracing myself against the frame from the momentum of being yanked along the whole time. The door itself was already somewhat ajar as I noticed standing back straight.

“Go in alre-” Robin began from behind me before I turned to quietly shush her. Besides our clanking shoe racket, the entire hallway was virtually silent, and I, for one, didn’t feel like making anymore noise, especially not this close to Wick. I mean, what could I possibly have expected heading in there? Was the kid unconscious? Delirious? Did the Winny Juice have some sort of other affect on him than everyone else because it was sucked from his stomach? So many thoughts were running through my mind at that point, most of which were… Jeez, I don’t know, my imagination goes to insane lengths when I’m nervous.

However, all of that faded away as I inched the door open further, catching sight of a waving, spotted object hanging listlessly off the edge of a white-sheeted bed. My first thought after seeing that was that Wick surely must’ve transformed anyway.

Well, I was half correct. Literally.

Robin let out a sharp gasp before even I registered what was in front of me as the door opened fully. There, sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed with his back to the door, was a hospital-gown-and-boxer-clad teen with wild orange hair and lightly-tanned skin. I could tell it was Wick without a doubt (Not many orange-haired people around here.), but there was something major that was different.

And I mean MAJOR.

Through the sheer gown, I could tell his muscle were just slightly more defined, but that was just the start. His entire right arm, shoulder to hand (or rather, paw), was shrouded in a layer of beige-orange fleece, freckled in black-tan spots. The same went for both of his legs, the feline features halting at almost perfect lines right at the heights of his thighs. Ocelot ears poked from his scalp, twitching and swiveling at every sound we made, but he never reacted besides that.

And, of course, the tail also belonged to him, and it all was quite obviously something he was not happy about, judging solely by the way his tail hung nearly still.

“Wick…?” I managed, stepping further in until I was almost right behind him. “Hey, it’s us, dude. Aiden and Robin. We came to see if you’re okay. ...You’re okay, right?”

Okay, I’ll admit, I’m not the smoothest when it comes to situations like those.

“Hey…” Wick finally replied, no louder than a whisper and his face still turned away. More seconds ticked audibly by before he spoke his second word. “No…”

“A-Are you hurt or something?” Robin interjected, kneeling on the bed space behind him (I had to quickly swipe away his tail before she crushed it.) and laying a gentle hand on his shoulder.

Wick sighed. “My stomach still hurts, but… No… No, it’s not that, Robin… Just look at me. They sucked that stuff outta me and now I’m this...thing. I ain’t no human, but I ain’t no anthro, either… And now I’m stuck in this place for the next week while doctors - human and anthro - monitor me and give me looks like I’m some...some monster. Than again, I pretty much am…”

Well, at least we didn’t have to pry at him to tell his feelings. That was one good thing for sure.

“No, no, Wick!” Robin urged. “That’s not at all what you are! Those doctors are just like everybody else in the town that refuses to see something new as something interesting and exciting. You’re just that, Wick!”

“A person that can’t see something new as something interesting and exciting?”

Robin facepalmed. “No! You’re the one who’s interesting and exciting! Don’t you see? You’re the only half-anthro in existence! What do they call those again, Kitty?”

“Nekos, you mean?” I replied, thinking more positively on the whole matter as the thought came about. Wick was a living neko, and the first one ever at that.

“Yeah, that’s right! You’re a neko, Wick! Isn’t that something worth celebrating? I think so!”

“Damn it, Robin, that’s exactly why I feel like this!!”

I jumped at the sudden change of tone. Poor Wick obviously wasn’t having any of Robin’s sweet talk. The bunny herself nearly toppled from the bed, scurrying back to my side and almost hiding behind me. In all honesty, in that moment, I felt like shying away myself.

But Wick continued. “I was turned into this because my dumb ass thought becoming an anthro would be a bad thing! Now look at me! This freakish body was created by a single wrong choice. It wasn’t something natural or a mistake on a grand scale, it was a one-time thing! Unless everybody else decides to go get their stomach pumped after drinking that stuff, I’m stuck as THE ONLY FUCKING ONE!”

Silence reign for what felt to have been an eternity, the only sound being the violent pang of the heart rate machine attached to Wick’s arm. I, for one, was utterly stunned. Wick was always, ALWAYS such a cool calm guy. Him bursting out in verbal rage was like breaking the laws of physics.

Yet, there he was, fists clenched tight against his temples and his back arched as if he would explode from the pressure.

Then, a soft sobbing filled the room, Wick’s slender frame beginning to tremble. The pinging of the monitor slowed, almost too much, a saddened beat playing each second in painful monotone.

“Oh, Wick…” Robin cooed, her tone far less cheery than it had been seconds prior. She stepped from her place behind me and sat across the bed again, offering her outstretched arms. Wick took the embrace without even a little hesitation, the first time he had turned to either of us the whole time we were there. His whiskered face was flushed red, feline eyes hazy and bloodshot. It obviously hadn’t been the first time he grew upset.

I sat on the other end of the bed as he cried his heart and soul into Robin’s shoulder, the rabbit girl comforting him as you would a child. Poor Wick most definitely needed it, and I couldn’t help but place my own hand on his shoulder as he continued on with his well-deserved vent. He spoke of the doctors, the unaccepting people he would have to face, his parents, who he he was absolutely sure would not feel the same way about him any longer.

…

Admittedly, his words almost made me cry a bit as well. I’m not one to do that often, but so much of it was so...so relatable, as sad as that fact is. Of course, the issues I face in public and at home are dwindling (Somewhat… I’ll get to that some time in the future.) as us anthros are almost fully accepted now. Wick, on the other hand...he may have to face the problems of ridicule for what he became for a much longer time. Obviously, he’s no outcast to me, Robin, or anyone else he’s friends with, no matter what he is…

...but the public may see him as the exact opposite…

I can’t write about this for much longer. I care dearly about those I know (Which you may or may not already know.), no matter who they are, and thinking back to how much pain Wick was in… Man, it’s just too much.

Anyway, the hour-and-a-half we had to visit faded away far too rapidly. I wanted to stay there as long as I could, and I’m sure Robin even longer to make sure Wick would be totally alright before leaving. But alas, a nurse entered and kindly ordered us away when the time came, replacing us with herself as she tended to a still-sniffling Wick. The poor guy managed a “goodbye” and a couple unnecessary apologies for yelling through his ragged breaths as we were ushered out the door. I waved back and said “bye” myself before he vanished from view.

Jumping back to the present, I plan to go back tomorrow, make sure he’s faring better with his situation. Robin’s here with me at the moment, and she, herself hasn’t calmed much since we left the hospital. She’s been pacing the room almost the whole time I’ve been writing this, but I can’t blame her. I’d probably be right with her if I didn’t have these words to type. I think some of the others guys from the lunch table also caught wind of where Wick is and might come with us tomorrow.

I just hope he’ll be okay. He’s a tough kid, I’ve seen him go through worse (I think…) and heal quickly. He’ll be fine…

*sigh*

Aiden out.