Chapter 2:

"Let's take him to the police!"

"You're fucking dead!"

"Denny, are you okay? What did that man want from you?"

"Nothing!"

"Oh, that was not nothing!"

Lucy sighed heavily. It was four o'clock in the afternoon, a week after the accident. She spent most of her time wondering what she would be doing if she were normal. She found it almost laughable that she would probably be doing the exact same thing, just in the confines of her room instead of the garage. Of course, up in her room, she would have at least had company. Her family and Lily talked and spent time with her whenever they could, but the longer things went on, the harder it was for them to be with her all the time, putting up with her constant complaining and crying.

Back when she wasn't a freak, most of her time was spent with Yashy and Chirpy: talking to them, playing with them, or sometimes just lying there, day dreaming. Those days were gone. Chirpy was terrified of her and Yashy refused to believe she had been made into a car. Her mother would often update her on how they were doing and she did her best to take care of them in her absence, but Lucy still couldn't help but wonder if everything her mother said was true. After all, it was very likely her mother was just lying to make her feel better.

She thought about Mike and all the time they had spent together before the accident. Maybe everything worked out for the best. She was out of his fur; in fact, she was out of everyone's fur. At the time, she was a burden to her family, but soon they would forget about her. Who could blame them? She brought nothing to the table but trouble and stress.

Sitting inside all day left her with a lot of time to think. She had started to think about religion and God. She prayed to him every day, sometimes to change her back and other times to just kill her. She found it rather ironic, since she didn't even believe in Him. There she was, a car, a beast of burden. She would never be accepted; she would never be happy. What was the point of anything? She didn't want to live in a world where people could become… monsters like her.

"Lucy?" It was her mother's voice. "Honey, someone is here to see you." Lucy looked over toward the door fervently, but it was located behind her, and turning around was no easy task for a car.

"… W-what?"

"Your friend – Paulo – he is here to see you."

"N-no! Don't let him in! I don't' want him to see me like this! T-tell him… I'm sick!"

"Honey, I already told him everything."

"Oh God! Mom, why would you do that? He is going to think I'm a freak!" She broke off into sobbing, despite how much she had grown to hate it. To sit there, machine, to cry, no tears being spared; it felt hollow and inhuman.

"Lucy… Please, calm down…"

"No! How am I supposed to calm down? I'm a freak!"

Her mother sighed. "Lucy, you're not a freak."

"Then what am I? I'm… I'm nothing…" Her cries grew quiet and stifled, but they persisted. She had almost forgotten the feeling of tears dampening the fur beneath her eyes. If only she could be human again. If only she go back to dealing with the problems she had once believed she had. Life would be so much easier; things would be so much different.

"Lucy," his voice rang out, sounding sweeter than ever. "It's me."

"Paulo…?"

"Yeah."

"…I-I'm sorry!"

"No, no, no! Don't apologize! It's okay… I… understand."

"…You understand?"

"I…" His voice trailed off.

"…No, it's… fine." A silence took over for the next few seconds. The situation seemed beyond words.

"Could you come over here… i-in front of me?"

"Yeah," Paulo's voice was low and considerate. He moved towards the front of the garage and admired the fine piece of craftsmanship before him.

"You look really great, Paulo."

"O-oh, thank you." Paulo couldn't help but blush at the compliment. It was rare and unexpected of Lucy to say something like that, yet recent events had to have changed her drastically. It was almost ironic, he thought, how hardening her exterior seemed to almost soften her; although, first impressions can often be misleading.

Paulo took a bit of a chance and he approached her. Without permission, he rested his hand on her hood. Lucy remained silent, basking in the softness of his touch. Paulo took a seat and rested his head against her. He stroked her gently with his hand.

"I'm sorry this happened, Lucy." He sounded ready to break into tears. "I'm really sorry this happened."

They spent several minutes in silence, watching the television, feeling each other's bodies – both feline and machine.

"Do you ever go outside?" Paulo finally spoke up.

"No," Lucy answered solemnly.

"Oh."

"I mean, I just… I can't."

"So, you just sit in here? All day? Watching television?

"… Yeah."

"Are you not allowed outside?"

"No, my mom has mentioned it before…" She considered her thoughts for a moment. "… I just don't want to go out."

"Don't you think it would be a little better then sitting in here all day?"

She sighed. "… What if they find out? O-or what if I get hit again? No, I'm not doing it."

"What if who finds out? You mean… people?"

"… Yeah," Lucy's voice grew suddenly sullen. "… People."

"No, no, no! I didn't mean it like that! I mean, like, people would realize you're actually Lucy?"

"…Uh huh."

"Nobody would figure out about that. … How would they know?"

"I don't know."

"Exactly! You could drive around and be free all you want! You don't have to be afraid of them finding out. They won't know unless you want them to know!"

"… And if I get hit?"

"… So what?"

Lucy looked at him incredulously, or at least she tried too.

"What difference does it make? I'm going to walk home tonight, and what if I get hit? My dad is going to drive home from work, what if he gets hit?"

"Y-you just don't understand."

"Lucy, you're never gonna feel any better if you sit in here all time. There is a whole world out there for you to enjoy."

"Ha," She laughed ironically, "there is bumper to bumper traffic, endless roads, and car accidents out there for me to enjoy."

"... So you would rather be pent up in here? Alone? Watching TV?"

"…Yes."


Such a sad sight! I could see the poor soul from my view, high above the houses of Roseville. I could see her through a small, dusty window. I was birthed as what I am, and all people were birthed as what they are, and such is the way of nature – the way of life. And in looking at this creature, this beast conjured from the depths of madness, this unnatural specter formed through means of tools and of man, I can feel only pity! What creature can you tell me deserves such a fate? Such a curse!

Bah! The sickness of it all! If I have learned anything in my years it is that getting all emotional about the things one cannot change is pointless, and quite possibly just as insane as the actions which inspired the very emotions in question. Yet, I do still find it difficult not to feel some sort of remorse for this creature. Although, at least she has friends! That is something, although it is not everything.

I cannot help but wonder if maybe friends themselves are a vice… if they serve only to spoil the weak individual mind! For how many trees have you known to kill themselves or become depressed? Not many, I am sure! And how many friends have you known these trees to have? I am sure they had many – eh? Not quite! Then again, trees and people are quite different. Trees, unlike people, cannot be described as social creatures. And this… experiment that lies before me, it is more a person than a machine at heart and at mind, and therefore should be regarded as such – or am I wrong?

Damn! The feline is leaving! What have I missed? Have I missed anything? You are far too distracting! Back to the show!


Lucy sat in the confines of the garage and cried – the same hollow and mechanical cry she detested. She wanted nothing more than to be out and about, talking to Paulo, ignoring Daisy, or even forcing conversation with Mike. The garage started to darken. She gazed out the one window, as she often did, but all she could see were the branches of a tree. She was trapped, both within cold metal and unforgiving nature.