FSE

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formerly SoFurry search engine

Hello everyone. This has been the first piece I've decided to tackle in quite a while. After being on tour and in the studio with my band for a good amount of time, I finally have some time to sit down and do something else I love besides my music. I originally drafted this piece around 1 year ago, before losing all my work due to a hard drive crash. Shit happens, I guess. The following piece and the ones that will continue, (possibly 3 or 4 more) follow the story of Mark, a 23 year old lion who's been stricken with depression for the past few years. He copes with it from the help of his friends, but sadly, they can't make it go away. What can mend such a broken soul? You'll find out. I hope you enjoy my work, and if you would like to make any kind of suggestions, or have any kind of criticism, feel free to message me.

~Enjoy~

I woke up around 11:30 on a Thursday morning. Trash collectors were banging around plastics bins in the streets below, making one hell of a racket. It jarred me from my sleep rather rudely. I think I was dreaming. Laying here was all I wanted. No noise. No distractions. Guess it was too late for that. I didn't want to get up this morning, or the next one for that matter. Sleeping forever always sounded luxurious, but you wouldn't even be able to enjoy it. You wouldn't even know you were dead.

The smell of rain washed up in from my windows and spread throughout my apartment like a plague. That unmistakable odor of dampness and chilly air, it always puts me in the worst of moods. I got up from my bed after rolling over a few dozen times, promptly slammed my window shut, and lurched back onto the mattress. Depression is the kind of pain that I wish on no person's soul. Never before in my life has this mixed cauldron of emotions had so much free reign over me. My anger breaks things and drives those close to me away. This sense of helplessness cripples me...I can't get out of bed without thinking if it's worth it anymore, and even when I do, it's not long before I slouch in a chair thinking of what could be instead of taking action for myself. The self pity leads to feelings of sadness and loneliness, a combination that shifts your world three hundred degrees and throws you into a glass wall. When that wall breaks, you're just left with nothing but broken pieces and jagged reflections, and that's all I see anymore. I try and mend it, but nothing works for me. I don't even know who I see looking back in the mirror in the bathroom anymore. Their eyes are dull, and their face looks worn and sullen. Their hair is a brown mesh of dead-ends and frizzled locks, and they have a voice that sounds eerily similar to that of a corpse. They look lifeless. I lie to myself though when I say I don't know who's looking back. My mind wanders for a bit, before telling me the words I always want to hear: "Mark, you're going to be ok! I promise, things will get better! Everything is going to turn around, don't worry! Be happy!"

That's what I've been hearing for the past 2 years, and I have yet to see one single thing change.

But it's not all bad. There are some days where I get out. They're the really bright days. The typical happy day, where you just want to open you door and enjoy what Mother Nature's made for you after taking a deep breath and inhaling the fresh air. Those are the days where I meet my friends for a bit, usually the same coffee place downtown from my apartment. It's always been the same three, but the same three I could just sit down and shoot the breeze for hours. They're always there too. I think it's because they feel sorry for me, but not in the bad way. They want to see me get better, and they always try their best, even though the assistance they offer in no ways comforts me the next day. Sometimes I feel like a junkie who's addicted to happiness, because when I am happy, it's euphoric. Laughter is pure ecstasy, smiles are my fucking smack. I hate it when it all goes away.

We first have Nate, who I met around 6 years ago at an underground punk show when I was still going through my rebellious teen phase. He's an energetic and bullheaded panther. Dresses like he lives in a fucking dump, and has the mouth of a sailor, but you will not find anyone more caring and more compassionate about things he feels are wrong. To me, Nate's the kind of person who I would gladly fight a war with. It wouldn't be about winning the war; it would just be about how much fun we could actually have with it. He plays drums in a Black Flag cover band, which does surprisingly well.

Next, is Isabella. I've been constant contact with her since high school. After taking Art II together, we learned we have a lot of common interests, both musically and entertainment wise. We would hang out after class together, get smashed together, and ponder life together. I've wanted to date her for while, but never had the heart to, since she is more of family to me than friend. A flirty, yet sophisticated Snow Leopard, spending most of her time wrist deep in sculpting clay, she seems to find her muse in the oddest of places. Never one to turn down the request of help from me, I feel odd asking her for favors, considering I do it quite often.

Then, there's Ivan, the Bull. I can't really say much about Ivan, since he really doesn't talk much. When he does speak though, it's always important to listen. Ivan never repeats himself, and whatever words do come forth, are always food for thought. He keeps his hair long, and likes his coffee, how he enjoys his metal-black. I don't even know where he works or what he does. He always takes half of our bill, so it must pay well, whatever work he does. He joins us because he's Nate's friend, and wants to support me through my troubled times. He's never really been into the whole "social" aspect of the coffee house, but I think he does enjoy having the company from time to time.

I was supposed to meet them today. I was already 15 minutes late, and would probably be another 20 minutes if I didn't hurry. I didn't bother to shower. I scoured my clothes drawers for something nice, which turned out to be jeans and a Hard Rock Café shirt. I got dressed, grabbed my keys, smokes, cell phone, wallet, and last but not least, my Maltese cross Zippo, and headed down the buildings staircase franticly. I burst open the door of the ground floor lobby only to be greeted by a soaking ensemble. I couldn't help but wonder why I never park on the opposite side of the street. I splashed a puddle indented in the curb as I hunched over slowly to the other side of the road. My car unlocked after I blindly pounded my key into the side of the door a couple of times. Usually takes me a lot longer to find the lock sometimes. The leather seats were cold, and the windows we're beginning to fog. I stuck the keys into the ignition, turned the engine over, threw on the heat, and listened to the low rumble of American innovation. It gave me a few minutes to relax and let the warmth take over. The fog on the glass slowly disappeared, as I put my old girl in D and began my journey to meet my companions. Passing by the same shops every time makes me wonder what's actually inside them. A few of them were obvious, shoe and clothing stores, the hole in the wall bar, a small music store, which was going under. My car slowly crept up to the only red light in my path, and after stopping, I fished through my pockets to find my phone. To my surprise, I had a missed call from both Nate and Isabella, and one of them had left a voicemail. I held down the 1 key, and put the phone on speaker while I navigated the road with one free paw.

"You have, 1! New voice message! New Message:" droned my phone. It was a surprise to hear Isabella's voice for a change. I missed the first couple seconds since I lost service while driving around, and with the rain sloshing beneath my vehicle, it was near impossible to hear anything. I decided to pull over on a side street so I could safely listen to what Isabella had to say:

"Mark, it's me. Nate tried getting a hold of you, but you didn't answer your phone. We can't make it today, I got called in to fill a shift at work, and Nate's practicing for a benefit show tonight. I don't know if Ivan will there or not, but we're both sorry! We'll rain check!"

"Message, deleted!"

I closed my phone and let out a sigh. Disappointment settled in once more. I laid my forehead on the steering wheel, gripping it until my knuckles were white. I was angry, but it wasn't their fault. I decided to continue on anyway. Maybe Ivan would be there if I was lucky, but previous gambles say he won't. Before I started off again, something caught my eye. A figure about 5 feet tall was just walking around in the rain on the street. It just seemed odd, even for someone like me. I couldn't see a face, or any type of body. They had grey sweats on with a grey hooded sweatshirt to match. I paid no mind to them and continued to the coffee shop.

The rain had let up a bit by the time I got there. I found a parking spot towards the corner of the curb, and after going through the hell of parallel parking on a crowded street, I shook the wet off, and walked inside. The name of the place is called The Beggars Cup. I will never understand the name as long as I live, but they do brew some nasty drinks. The entire theme of the place is marine. The windows are like the ones you'd see on a ship. The big, round, brass ones. They even went to the trouble of distressing the finish of the brass. It gives it that old feel to it, like it's been there for ages. Wooden banisters line the ceilings, with older gas lamps hanging from them. Of course, they're electric, but it adds to the realism of the environment. It's actually rather convincing.

The fragrance of roasted coffee is something that I will always love. It's a crisp, inviting, and mesmerizing smell, and there's nothing in the world that compares to it. Maybe there is, but I have yet to find it. I walked up to the counter where Jessica, the emerald green dragoness, the usual Barista on Thursday's was busy behind the counter mixing up some of her more wild creations. Her tail was twitching back and forth on the floor, and I could tell she was working on something delicious. She's a quirky one. Always in good spirits, and always hyper, Jess is the perfect type individual to work here. I think she samples too much of her own product sometimes though. I wasn't even able to get a hello in before she turned around and ran up to me with her arms stretched out, ready to give me one of her big dragon hugs. She isn't a big girl by any means, but she has that little extra just to give her curves. It doesn't help that she has a few inches on me.

"Mark!" she squealed out while nearly crushing my ribcage. I barely managed to say anything back before I ran out of breath.

"Here, try this! It's something I've been working on and I need an honest opinion, what do you think?" She pushed a small cup onto the counter full of this mystery liquid. It was a darker brown, almost a walnut shade. I took a closer look at before speaking my first words of the day:

"What the hell is it?" I asked rudely.

"Just try it you grump. I promise you'll like this!" she said as she rolled her eyes at me. She still had a smile on her face. After taking a whiff, inspecting that it wasn't poisoned, I took a small sip. I was instantly greeted by a subtle sweetness followed by a bold and creamy flavor.

"I'm blown away Jess. Two questions though. One, what's in it? Two, can I get a large of it?" I slyly remarked. She giggled and went to work on making me one. I turned around to check if Ivan had decided to show up, and to my expectations, he wasn't here. I was already late to begin with, so the chances of him popping in are very slim. I was still upset about not having my friends here, but maybe it was for the better. I left a 5 on the counter and yelled to Jess I was going out for a smoke. She gave me a thumbs up from behind her various coffee machines. Pushing open the door let in the chilled November air, as I took a couple steps to the curb and lit my cigarette. The first few drags are always the best. I always get shit from Isabella about my smoking, but I enjoy it too much to quit. The sweet embrace of the nicotine high is comforting yet chilling, knowing what it's doing to my body. I don't care enough though. I was just about done with my cancer before something familiar walked by. It was the same figure from earlier. Still in grey sweats, only rather soaked, they walked by without even looking up from the ground before turning swiftly into the coffee shop.

A lot of questions wrapped around my head at that point, the million dollar one being who exactly they were. I threw the last of my smoke into the gutter and walked back inside. Jess had finished my coffee and was organizing cups in the back when I approached the counter again. I grabbed my change and shoved it into my pocket before snagging my drink and taking a seat towards the front of the room. There was the usual chatter and hipsters on their Macbooks doing god knows what, probably just browsing Facebook trying to look important. I took a look around for my mystery target and realized they were gone. I was a little confused, as there was no way I could miss them. I sat there for a few minutes enjoying my coffee while scouting the place out, trying not looking like a complete stalker. To no avail though, I could not find anyone who resembled the grey hooded figure. I decided to take a walk to Jess to see if she had any information as to where they were, and if they went anywhere.

"Hey Jess, you got a minute?" I cautiously asked.

"All the time in the world for you! What's up?" she bubbled back.

"Someone walked in here not too long ago wearing nothing but grey sweats and I'm a little curious as to who they were. Did they order anything or sit down?" I queried.

"Yeah, they came up here while you out with your smoke and ordered a large coffee, black. You know them or something?" she responded. I felt a little awkward at this point. I didn't want to just admit that I was wondering who this random stranger was, but I really didn't have too much of a choice.

"I saw them walking in the rain earlier on my way here, just wondering if they're a regular or if it really is just a stranger." I choked back.

"I've never seen her before-" I interrupted Jess before she could finish her sentence:

"She? It's a girl?"

"Yes, it's a girl. How shocking. They took a seat towards the back in case you were wondering...the one with the brunette hair I want to say." She grunted back. I thanked her and went back to my seat, looking around viciously for my stranger. It was too crowded to get a full view, so I decided to get up and go to the restroom to get a better view. The first pass through didn't bring me any luck, and not too draw attention to myself, I washed my hands and stood around for a minute before taking a deep breath and walking out. As cliché as it sounds, that's when I saw her. An absolutely stunning vixen, with eyes that were as blue as the azure skies themselves. She sat in a booth cornered to herself; her hand slumped under her muzzle, staring intently into her cell phone. She looked tired. Her brunette hair had more red to it than I had expected, it was frizzed from the rain a bit, along with being all over the place. It looked like she hadn't been home in a while. Still a sight though. I wandered back to my seat and enjoyed my beverage to pass the time. I looked at the clock, watching the second hand as it floated carelessly by; it was only 12:48. I was unsure how I was going to kill 5 hours until this place closed, but if I wanted to talk to this vixen, it would have to be done.

I fiddled with my phone for a little bit, bought another coffee, shot the breeze with Jess, counted the floor tiles, stared at the ceiling, and tinkered with my lighter for a bit before the boredom finally set in. It was only 2:30 at this point. I checked to make sure she didn't leave, and sure enough, she didn't move. Looks like her coffee was barely touched either. I wanted another cigarette, but my better judgment told me just to wait for a bit. I decided not to listen as I briskly walked into the rain for another smoke. The light drizzle had picked up a little, but it wasn't anything intolerable. The door opened and a younger couple walked out hand in hand. They looked happy. I took a stiff drag and flicked the ashes away into the rain. The door opened again with no one walking out. I was staring off into the distance watching the cars roll by. It was nice to have alone time like this. Hanging out with Nate and the rest of my friends was fun, but this is something I should have done more often.

"Excuse me, but I could I bum a smoke?" murmured a young and timid voice. They were behind me, but I didn't bother acknowledge their presence. I pulled a cigarette out and held it behind my back between my index and middle finger.

"Hope you don't mind menthol." I scoffed. They said thank you before shortly piping up again:

"I'm sorry, could I borrow your lighter too?" I was pretty aggravated at this point. I came out to enjoy the solitude, not be bothered for a cigarette and a lighter to boot. I turned around to hand them my Zippo when I nearly had a stroke.

It was her. Out of all the things she could be, she's a smoker. I was literally awestricken. I stood there for what seemed like hours, loosing myself in her radiating beauty. Those eyes. Something about her eyes told a story. It was a complicated tale, with fear, and pain. I wanted to know. I needed to know. I couldn't pass this down. Opportunity was racking on my door like a madman and I just had to answer.

"Here." I said calmly. I took out my lighter from my jeans and handed it her. She uttered a small thank you before leaning against the side of the building, lighting her cigarette. She propped up one leg onto it for support, before taking a long drag with an even bigger exhale. I couldn't think straight. Should I talk to her? No! That would only make you look like an idiot! It was a battle of mind and heart, and in most cases, my mind would have prevented this kind of thing, but I couldn't pass this up. I just fucking couldn't. I walked over to her, with fear in my heart, an inferno in my mind, and confidence in my step. I looked her straight in the face with an expressionless mask, and uttered whatever words my brain thought was appropriate.

"Listen, I know it's going to sound strange, but I saw you walking here earlier in the rain. You're a good amount of time from wherever you live, and I don't want to impose anything, but I would like to give you a ride home if you don't mind."

She didn't respond. Instead she put out cigarette and walked back inside with an angry stride.

Fucking stupid. Idiot. Moron. Waste. Negativity shot through my skull like a sniper bullet. I didn't want to feel anything. I just wanted to go home. I wasn't happy anymore. I don't think I really was at all today, but whatever good feelings I had earlier were maimed, burned, and left on the ground to fester. I thought maybe I could bounce back. Guess fate wanted me to be a miserable wreck for the rest of my life. I searched for my keys and began walking to my car. It was colder out. I unlocked the door with my first try and slouched down into my seat. I started it up and turned on the heat. I didn't know how to act. Fury, sorrow, aggression, passion, all sorts of emotions pulled their strings on me. I felt just like a damned puppet, just going through the motions. My car was warm enough. I lit another cigarette to qualm me. I took a deep drag and held the smoke in for a couple seconds before exhaling it into my car. I couldn't care what my interior smelled like at this point. I rolled down the window and began to drive off.

"Wait!" I heard someone shout. I slammed on my brakes only to wonder who the hell was bothering me this time. It was her again, and she had my lighter. I rolled down the passenger side window and reached out for it. She put a clenched fist into my paw before dropping my lighter into it. She was angry at me I guess. I don't blame her. I thanked her and was about to pull away before she opened the door.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" I snapped.

"Listen...I do need a ride. I'm sorry about earlier. Is it still available?" she asked with a shaken voice. I stared at her for a few seconds before waving my arm, and telling her to get in. Maybe I wasn't such a fool after all. She gracefully sat down and slammed the door shut. She was shaking and wet, she had obviously been standing out in the rain again for some time. I turned the heat up a couple of notches and switched the vents to her side of the car.

"So, where do you live?" I asked politely.

I didn't get a response. I looked at her to make sure she heard me. Her head was sunken into her chest, and she was shaking even more.

"I don't have a place anymore." She whispered.

I was concerned. More confused about where this girl came from, but the fact that she didn't have someplace to sleep bothered me a lot. I still didn't have a name either. It was time to go big or go the fuck home.

"Do you at least have a name I can call you by? I feel a little strange giving you a ride and not even knowing your name."

"Alexis. Just Alexis." She blurted out. I could tell she was nervous. I could read her body language like a book. Anxious, upset, and angry. She didn't want to talk much. I was stopped at a red light when I noticed how quiet it was inside the car. I flicked my cigarette out the window and quickly rolled it up before I got any rain inside. I had to think of something fast.

"Are you hungry? I was planning on getting something to eat on my way back; you're more than welcome to join me." I spontaneously asked.

"I don't have any money." She said with pain in her voice. She scrunched her legs up to her chest and began to peer outside. I felt awful for this girl at this point...but I had to be strong. For all I know, this could all be an act.

"It's...on me." I sighed. She turned and looked at me like I was some kind of monster before leaning over and resting her head on my shoulder. She stroked my face, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you." She whispered. Alexis closed her eyes and seemed to drift into a deep sleep. This was defiantly no act. I haven't heard such sincerity in someone's voice like this in a long time. It brought memories of my mother. She took small breaths, and finally her body relaxed. The legs went onto the floor and her arms went to her sides. I couldn't even comprehend what had just happened. I thought maybe I was hit by another car or something and this was all part of the coma I was in. It was real though.

I think for once I was finally starting to learn how to be happy again.