#shears bitty

“Do you need help?” the woman asked, shuffling forward with an awkward gait, hands outstretched in front of her. The feral bittybones darted behind some haphazardly stacked cardboard boxes to hide just in case she decided to attack. She didn’t. Instead she patted the empty air in front of her until one of her hands brushed the corner of the dumpster.

Surely the dim glow of the far-off streetlights was enough for her to detect an object as large as a dumpster, thought the Shears. That’s when he noticed that her eyes were closed.

“you’d be able to see where y’were goin’ if ya opened yer eyes,” growled the Shears bitty from his cardboard fortress. She laughed softly in response, lifting the plastic cover from one side of the garbage receptacle.

“Not likely,” she said. “I’m blind. Eyes open or closed, it all looks like darkness to me.” She rifled around from a moment, and the bitty couldn't help leaning forward in anticipation. He hadn't eaten in days, and the scents from the garbage were absolutely mouthwatering.

Peering out from his refuge, the hungry bitty watched the woman fish a bone with a large bit of meat still attached from the dumpster. She crouched down, dangling the prize a few short feet from where he hid.

It was hard to identify the type of meat on the bone. It might be lamb. It might be beef, but the Shears bitty didn’t care what animal it came from. He wanted it badly, so badly, but he did not trust the allegedly blind human. He heard stories on the streets of humans capturing stray bittybones for fighting rings or to sell to science laboratories for experimentation. He avoided those fates by being street smart, and that involved a great deal of mistrust.

As if she sensed his misgivings, the woman sighed and placed the delectable morsel on the ground. She took several steps backwards before addressing him. “I’m not trying to hurt you, but I’ll give you space while you eat if it makes you more comfortable.”

Unable to wait another moment, the starving bitty rushed from his hiding place, grabbed the proffered food, and quickly dragged it back under the cardboard. He tore into the meat with gusto; he hadn’t tasted anything so delicious in his entire life. It wasn’t even moldy!

“so what’re ya doin’ hangin’ out in a place like this?” asked the Shears once the meat had been consumed, licking grease from his phalanges. Probably waiting to kidnap unsuspecting Horrortale bitties, he thought, gnawing the bone for any possible remaining flavor.

The woman smiled. “I was walking back to the shelter where I’m staying, and I took a wrong turn,” she admitted. “I had to rest a moment and reorient myself. It’s easy to get lost in the city even if you have perfect vision.” She chuckled a bit at the weak joke.

The blind woman’s harmless demeanor didn’t fool the Shears bitty in the slightest, but he never got the chance to confront her about it because thunder crashed overhead, making him jump in fright and bump his skull on the cardboard above him. He hadn’t noticed the gathering thunderclouds in the already dark night sky. Lightning flashed, throwing the alley in sharp relief briefly then plunging it back into darkness. Thunder crashed again, louder this time, and the clouds let loose. Rain poured down hard enough that the Shears bitty’s shelter immediately began to buckle.

Yelping in surprise, the woman spoke quickly to the Shears bitty, making him an offer he couldn’t refuse. “You can’t stay out here in this weather. If you want, you can hop in my satchel, and I’ll take you back to the shelter with me.”

“shelter?” asked the bitty, though he was already unfastening the satchel flap to climb inside. The woman made no effort to touch or grab him, which he appreciated.

“It’s a homeless shelter,” she explained, “but at least it’s dry and warm.”

The Shears bitty grunted his agreement, and the blind woman set off. She walked purposefully, counting her steps and turning corners with confidence.

“stop!” shouted the bitty as she stepped out into the street and right in front of a moving vehicle. The car swerved, narrowly missing her.

“I didn’t even hear it through the rain,” she whispered.

“s’alright,” mumbled the miniature skeleton, “i don’t wanna end up as roadkill any more'n you do.” He blushed, embarrassed by his own good deed. They arrived at the shelter a few moments later. An attendant at the front desk greeted the blind woman, referring to her as Void; she nodded a greeting without pausing on her way to the dormitory area.

Beds lined the walls of the dormitory rooms, some occupied, some empty. A quick count revealed a relatively small number of humans in residence, but their presence still made the Shears bitty nervous. Void noticed his growing unease as she brought sheets and blankets over to make her bed for the night.

“You can sleep up on the bed with me, or if you’re more comfortable keeping a low profile, I can tuck the satchel under the bed and you can sleep there,” suggested Void. The Shears bitty opted to set up his own little camp under the bed. He fell asleep quickly to the sound of rain battering the homeless shelter roof.

Sometime in the early morning hours, movement nearby awakened the Shears bitty. Peering out from his improvised nest, he spotted another human attempting to drag the satchel out from under Void’s bed! Snarling, the Horrortale bitty sank his fangs into the offending hand. When the hand withdrew, the bitty followed it, confronting its owner with further snarls.

“takin’ what ain’t yers is a good way to lose a hand,” he growled. Without a word, the thief fled, and the bittybones returned to his temporary satchel home, pretending he didn’t hear the softly whispered “Thank you” from the bed above him.

The next morning dawned with a clear sky, warm golden sunlight, and not a rain cloud in sight. The Shear bitty emerged from the satchel to see Void’s upside down face greeting him as she leaned over the bed.

“Would you like to join me for breakfast? I wash dishes at a local diner, and the owner lets me eat breakfast there before I start my shift. It’s all I can really offer to repay you for your help last night.” She didn’t mention which she was thanking him for- saving her from the car or protecting her belongings- but it made no difference to the ravenous bitty. He never said no to a free meal.

The little skeleton rode in the satchel on the three-block trip to the diner. On the way, he and Void struck a mutually beneficial bargain. Void would keep him fed and sheltered if he would be her seeing-eye bitty. The job sounded easy enough, and the payoff was well worth it. Void gave him a big slice of ham for breakfast with a promise of more food later! Eating twice in a single day? Unheard of in his former life!

The Shears bitty and his human companion settled into a routine that evolved as their relationship with each other progressed. The bitty eventually moved from sleeping in the satchel to claiming a spot on Void’s pillow next to her. With a service bitty to help her, Void found a better paying job. She even moved in with a friend from her workplace a few months after the two of them started dating. As her living situation improved, so did the Shears bitty’s.

As time passed, Void worked her way up to a job in which she didn’t really need an assistance bitty to help her. She assured the Shears bitty that he would always be welcome at her workplace, but he could also stay home if he preferred a life of leisure. The formerly feral bitty never could’ve imagined the life he had now: a home with all of the amenities he could ask for, including all of the food he could eat, with no expectation of repayment.

The Shears bitty missed Void’s company though, and he often chose to accompany her to the workplace. Watching her work without his help only made him feel more useless and out-of-place in her new life though. One night, he overheard a conversation that confirmed his deeply rooted and entirely new fear of abandonment and loneliness.

“I don’t know why you keep that creepy bittybones around. If you feel like you still need a service bitty, we could get you a real one.” The voice belonged to Void’s significant other, and it drifted from the kitchen into the bedroom where the Shears bitty laid curled up on Void’s pillow.

“He’s not creepy,” Void’s voice insisted, “and honestly, I really don’t need a service bitty anymore anyway.” The Shears bitty froze. Void didn’t need him anymore. Dejected, the Horrortale bitty trudged across the mattress to the bedroom window.

“You’re lucky you can’t see him, Void,” the significant other continued. “He’s got a gaping hole in his skull. He has an eerie red eyelight that glows in the dark, and his other socket is blank and empty. He is one hundred percent creepy.”

Exerting every bit of strength he possessed, the small skeleton managed to push the window open a few inches, just enough for him to escape back to his old life… a life where he didn’t need to fear being rejected by someone he had begrudgingly come to care about.

“You’re right, I am lucky I can’t see him. Thanks to my blindness, instead of judging him based solely on his appearance, I can judge him based on his actions. He protected me and helped me when I needed him most. I fed him, sure, but he could find food on his own. He didn’t need me, but I needed him, and he was there for me. How could you even suggest that I replace him?” Void spoke with a quiet passion that touched the Shears bitty down to his very SOUL, but she wasn’t done speaking yet.

“I would rather be homeless again than get rid of my darling Shears.”

Lowering the window, the Shears bitty climbed back up onto Void’s pillow. He feigned sleep when she entered the room, but she knew his breathing patterns too well and wasn’t fooled in the slightest.

Void laid down on the bed, placing her head on the pillow next to him. “I was so scared that you left. I’m glad you stayed.”

Of course she’d heard him opening the window; Void had excellent hearing. Wiggling closer to her, he nuzzled her cheek.

“me too.”