I don't own Benny & Joon. I do however own Gracie and Jonathan. This is what I think would've happened of Sam had never met Joon, but someone else instead.
Sam had just stepped off of the train, with no where to go but his cousin's place. He wasn't fond of his cousin, but he dealt with it anyways. The truth was, no one in his family really accepted him. He was the disappointing loser who couldn't read, no matter where he went.
So he'd decided to change scenery, crash with his cousin for a while, find a job, and start living on his own. He'd really like that.
His cousin was no where to be seen when he grabbed his few bags and headed towards the door. Looks like he'd be hoofing it, he thought, until he finally saw his cousin. Looking more irritated by the second.
He rushed up to meet him.
"Hi Mike," Sam said respectfully.
"Yeah, whatever. Come on asshole." Mike replied.
Sam followed obediently, head down. He knew he could be better than he was, but he didn't think he deserved that treatment.
He sighed, and got into Mike's car, careful not to dirty it or scratch it.
When they got to Mike's place, Sam carefully took his shoes off at the front door. He lifted his hat off of his head, letting his chin length brown locks fall into his face.
"Don't make a mess." Mike said. "And stay out of my shit."
"I can't believe I let your mom talk me into letting you stay here." Mike said. "You can sleep under the sink."
Sam put his suitcases down under the sink before putting his shoes on and going back outside.
This was not going to be easy at all, he thought. But he'd do anything to just get on his feet and away from his cruel family. He wondered if there were others out there like him. He didn't know anybody else his age that couldn't read. He hoped that one day, he'd find a soul like his own to share his life with. He looked up at the moon in the night sky and smiled. Somewhere, there was a special woman out there looking up at the same moon.
"Gracie! C'mon, it's eleven. You're up past your bed time." A tired man in his thirties said. He had sandy blonde hair and green eyes. He wasn't thin, but he wasn't fat, just average. He was quite muscular from working at his furniture store. He was constantly re-arranging the displays so that they looked enticing to the customers.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"Gracie! What's taking so long?" He asked, a little irritated.
"I can't find Hammerstein." Gracie said timidly. She came into the bedroom, teeth brushed and hair in braids.
"For crying out loud, Gracie. You're 23 years old! You don't need your stuffed hippo to sleep. It's just a toy." The man said.
"How can you say that to me Jonathan?" Gracie sniffled. Gracie was not like other women her age. Gracie was not like them at all. Sure, Gracie looked like an average woman, with her short frame and soft curves. She had dark brown hair and brown eyes, with full pouty lips and pale skin. She stared at her brother Jonathan. He'd been in charge of her care since their parents died 9 years ago. She'd always had something different about her, but after they died, it got worse.
The psychiatrists diagnosed her with paranoid schizophrenia, and due to it's severity, she had to have supervision at all times.
"I know, I'm sorry Gracie. Just get into bed and I'll find him for you." Jonathan said. Gracie nodded, climbing under the purple blanket on her full sized bed.
In some ways, Gracie was very mature and grown-up, but in other ways, she could be extremely childish and stubborn.
For example, she could speak in a manner that made English professors feel uneducated, but she could also throw her share of tantrums. Sometimes, she even used those childish moments to manipulate people into giving her what she wanted, like tonight.
Today, her childishness had driven away her day-time caregiver, a kind woman named Mrs. Warner who stayed with her while Jonathan was working. Mrs. Warner was the fifth caregiver to quit in the past two months.
Jonathan returned with Hammerstein the hippo, so named because of her love for Roger and Hammerstein musicals. She would've named him Roger, but she didn't feel that Roger the hippo sounded nearly as cool as Hammerstein.
"Here you go." He said, tossing the stuffed animal to Gracie.
"Thanks." She said softly, snuggling the hippo to her face.
"I still can't believe you locked Mrs. Warner out of the house today. That was completely uncalled for." Jonathan scolded gently.
"She made me angry." Gracie argued. "I had no choice."
"Uh-huh." Jonathan replied. "Did you say your prayers?"
"Yep. I said them before I brushed my teeth and braided my hair." She told him.
"Good girl. Go to sleep now." He said. He kissed his little sister on the forehead and shut off the big light, making sure the hippo shaped nightlight in the corner of the room was on.
"Good night, Jonathan. Love you." Gracie said.
"I love you, too. Good night, Gracie. Sweet dreams." He replied before shutting her door.
As soon as she heard his footsteps disappear down the hallway, she shuffled out of bed and went to sit in her window seat. She loved to sit there at night, looking up at the moon and stars. She sometimes talked to the moon, confiding in it.
Tonight she told it another of her dreams. She dreamed of living on her own one day, of overcoming her fear of being alone. Well, due to the voices, she was never completely alone. She hated hearing those voices. They weren't cruel or anything, but she'd been called crazy because of them, and she hated to think she was crazy.
"I'm not crazy," she whispered to no one. "I'm not crazy."
She looked back up to the moon, wishing that one day she could be independent and normal, and maybe even meet Prince Charming.
She smiled at the thought of that. She'd always wanted her very own Prince Charming. She smiled up at the moon, knowing that if he existed, he was probably looking at the same moon right now.
She said another prayer, asking God to protect her Prince Charming, too, and to bring him to her soon. Then she climbed back into bed and fell fast asleep.