@thunderoux / closed
When he finally found out that he was a clone of his father, Dib at first felt numb. He mulled over all the implications of that fact for hours---he didn’t have a mom, which meant there was no possibility of a family member that might love him. That alone diminished his hope of ever being cared about, but then he realized something else.
He was meant to be like his father. A clone. He was a failure.
No wonder the only look he got from the professor was disappointment; he’d failed to become his father, failed to be what he was created for.
Packing was a blur. He vaguely recalled taking the polaroids he’d taken of Zim off his wall and stuffing them into his bookbag. All the medications his father had put him on were left behind. He wouldn’t need them.
Taking one last look at his mostly-empty room, he exited through his door and rushed down the stairs. He passed Gaz on the way to the front door, but she didn’t notice him. That was fine. He hoped she would be treated better without him around to weigh her down.
The wind whipped at his face as he ran down the street, not slowing until he could no longer see that wretched place he’d once called a home. He was out of breath, but he didn’t stop until he reached his destination:
Zim’s base.
Paying no mind to the garden gnomes guarding the pseudo-house, he walked up the sidewalk leading to the front steps, a part of him hoping he’d be shot before he made it. Unfortunately, he reached the door in one piece, so he shrugged and rang the doorbell.
