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Challenge 4: You Belong...?

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When you said goodbye, you were on the run
Tryin' to get away from the things you've done
Now you're back again, and you're feeling strange
So much has happened, but nothing has changed
You still don't know where you're goin'
You're still just a face in the crowd

- Glenn Frey, You Belong to the City

For Challenge Song #4, I have no idea what to call this piece. I drew the whole thing in Photoshop with the tablet, so the background looks like crap. I wanted to get a kind of lonely, regretful feel to it. I think I managed to get it.

Want a Bits N Piece? 'Kay, here ya go.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Cosmo and Wanda wouldn't approve of him wandering the streets so late at night, especially since there were still a lot of nullifiers around. But it was warm and comfortable, and he was still restless from the day's battles that he couldn't help but leave the house and just walk around for a while.

He'd caught a bus to the city proper, as he didn't really want to walk the distance from the suburbs to Dimmsdale downtown. Soon after he began his walk, though, he immediately began regretting the decision.

Everywhere he looked, there was something dedicated to his old self. A park bench, a drinking fountain, a small flame at the town hall that claimed it never went out; Timmy hurried past them all with his hands jammed into his pockets and eyes focused on the sidewalk. Maybe when he was ten, this kind of idol worship would have been a wish come true, but now it just filled him with a sickness at how the memory of him was being treated.

These people just couldn't seem to let go, and that was endangering everyone. Didn't they get it? If they continued to cling to this idea that he was the center of their lives and world, the city would suffer endlessly and nothing he was doing would help them. Even if the Spires were to fall and all the children got fairy godparents, Dimmsdale would inevitably self-destruct.

He stopped in front of one store and leaned against it to rest, gazing up to see a statue of his ten-year-old self standing across the way. He flinched and sighed, shaking his head slightly. The way everyone acted about his old self, the memorials, the tributes, the daily flocks to his grave to deliver gifts and flowers, the title they gave him... Heart of Dimmsdale.... It was almost as if they were trying to give him their existence in exchange for his return.

Or buy him back from death.

"Stop it." he finally growled, clenching his hands into fists, "Just stop it." He shut his eyes tightly, refusing to acknowledge the statue before him. "Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" his voice went on, rising higher and higher until it was a scream and his hands went up to hold his head, weaving into his hair as he dropped to his knees, "Stop it!" He shook feverishly, then glared up at the statue with tear-filled eyes. "This is all wrong!" Timmy stood abruptly, whirling around to face the empty streets of Dimmsdale and shrieking aloud to the darkness.

"I don't belong to you! Let me go!"

And somewhere in town, a pair of workers heard the anguished scream, but shrugged it off as nothing and went back to erecting a new statue of Timmy, to be unveiled at a lavish ceremony the next morning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There we go.
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PrayerGirl1's avatar
Wow! Intense! What, may I ask, happened?