Botch has a minion!

Soy the Monpetitchou

He's part of a crime-scene clean up crew. And he sees dead people.
Literally.
But not just "the dead" (i.e. ghosts); things that shouldn't exist.
He's stared a Yeti in the face, shared tea with a Sasquatch, and swam faster than a Kappa.

Some might blame this as just stress and trauma due to his job, but he's always seen these things. His parents always said "Oh, he just has a lot of imagination. Those imaginary friends will fade away." But they never did. Because they weren't imaginary.

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5/20/11 "Bullshit"
Ghosts and those 'other things' that exist in the world? They try to get our attention. Or they stay hidden by choice. Due to society and what's 'acceptable' we are TRAINED to ignore these things. "Ghosts aren't real. Bigfoot doesn't exist. Aliens don't roam our world." (Which you might actually believe had you never encountered those people that are way too happy at 7am).
Your brain automatically represses what your soul - your being - can't, or refuses to, comprehend. "You didn't see the ghost of the boy from 1920, you saw a shadow. It's gone now," or "Damn, that was definitely a moose or something that I shot. Not a unicorn."
Sometimes, they get through. When your brain is focused, and your soul lets its guard down. Like before you go to sleep. Your eyes say something was in the corner. Your barrier shoots up and your brain reassures you. "No. no, silly. It was a cat. A trick of the light. The wind."
All you're doing is bullshitting yourself.

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5/25/11 "Morning"
Didn't sleep well last night. Soy kept growling at things I didn't want to acknowledge. I guess they decided to leave, lest Soy get off his ass and do something, because Soy finally settled down. Then it was his snoring that kept me awake. Finally dozed off around 5-ish. Woke up every hour until about 9.

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5/26/11 "Early Morning Figure"
Slept better than before last night. Though I woke up to Soy growling again. His fuzz all perked up and his tail stiff. Morning light was shining through my blinds, (why even call them blinds if they don't block out all the sunlight?) and I could see a shadowy figure in the corner. I knew it was there, but I could still read the titles of the books on my bookshelf. The figure flickered and then disappeared. Soy gave a few more growls, and then curled up at my feet again.
Haven't noticed anything blatantly out of the ordinary, but Soy did eat the last of my hot dogs so I guess its time for the store.

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5/28/11 "Barrier"
Last few days have been a sleep-deprived blur.
Soy won't stop growling at every little thing. I swear it was a leaf this morning. Just. A. Leaf.

But anyways, I've been collecting my thoughts and trying to think of a way to explain myself. Obviously people must assume me to be entirely insane, (or functionally insane, at least), and I guess they're right. But only because what I see, I shouldn't be able too.
You see, your soul, your "being," is only equipped to handle so much. When you're younger, you have no barrier. You absorb everything. The barrier keeps you sane. But what you've already seen doesn't just disappear. It's part of your ability to imagine. It's the reason you have nightmares. It's why you see things out of the corners or your eyes, or hear things when nothing is around. This barrier is built up depending on the society and the people around you.
For those of us who had imaginary friends when we were little, they weren't imaginary. They were real. But your parents, neighbors, peers, they made you forget. They made you block out your friends.

The mind is easily manipulated. Studies show that people can implant memories into a person's mind. If they can implant a memory, they can sure as hell erase it.
Things can be erased from your mind and you will never fully get it back. Sure, you might vaguely remember the cat you had in fourth grade. But your parents insist you never had a cat. Then why is that memory there?

But I digress... your being puts this barrier in place to keep you "acceptable." If society doesn't agree, then it doesn't exist. If there's no "proof," it doesn't exist. Except the proof is all around us, we're just too damn blind to see it.

Apparently, I have a "botched" barrier. It was never developed (and trust me, everyone around me tried to enforce one. Seems like my soul doesn't need it), and so I can still see what no one else can. Trust me, no amount of medication or therapy "fixes" this problem. Fortunately, I've learned to lie. To just say and do what "normal" society wants.

That's the reason I'm typing this out for you. I can just... say whatever's happened, and no one will know it's me. I'm still normal old Botch, and no one I know can identify me.

---

5/29/11 "Soy"
I'll be honest with you, the first time I saw the thing, I did a double-take. I did a double-take.
It has a wheel-bug shaped body, six legs, a beak, a multitude of multi-colored eyes, possum paws, a broken stinger that oozed orange goop, and pink fuzz that looked, and smelled, as though it were made of cotton candy.
It was at my fridge, scrabbling through the meat drawer. It wrestled out a new hot dog package and valiantly attempted to devour it whole; beak furiously working at the plastic wrapping. It watched me with three of it's eyes, all of them a primary color.
Cautiously, I tip-toed over and plucked the pack from it's beak. It gave a high-pitched whine that sounded something like EEEEEEEEEEE and, I swear to you, made grabby hands at the damn thing.
I cut the package open and dumped the contents onto the linoleum floor. The creature issued another EEE! of pure excitement and lapped up the franks whole, like a damned seagull would. Just plucking one off the ground, tipping it's head back and woop, down it goes.
After disposing of the hot dogs, it BAMF'd (yeah, like Nightcrawler, puff of smoke and everything) across my kitchen, appearing on my counter. It sniffed (no, really, I could hear the thing inhaling) a bottle of soy sauce I had bought earlier that week and downed it. I grimaced.
Looking pleased with itself, it's eyes rolled to me, tongue lolling out the side of it's beak. Then it toppled to the floor. On it's back, it's six legs flailed helplessly in the air. I picked it up, righted it, and quickly backed away.
It wobbled and leaned against my wall and burped. Before wobbling forward and collapsing.
It was drunk.
I picked it up and a high-pitched POONT issued from it's nether regions. I gagged, carried the thing to the bathroom and shut the door. Then I promptly Febreze'd the entirely of my house, paying special attention to kitchen.

He still hangs around. Lives with me really.
I've named him Soy.

Soy loves hot dogs, and really is covered in cotton candy. He gets drunk off of soy sauce (thus his name) and he's a cuddler (unfortunately). It seems though, that he only looks like he does, because it's the closest thing to his "true" form that I can handle. Everyone else who sees him thinks he's a dog or something (Apparently, he's always a pink something. Poodle seems to be his favorite for everyone). This causes a bit of an issue when other people are around, because sometimes he isn't the same creature for everyone. One time, my cousin said I owned a pink Chihuahua, while my aunt insisted it was a Pomeranian. I told them they were both crazy, I had a poodle. I guess Soy took the hint because now they see him as a poodle.


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