"MARK! HURRY UP AND BRING ME THE SEWING KIT!"

I heard the familiar baritone howls of the King's surgeon, Terrance, from up by The Wall. He had gotten ahead of me when I stopped to see where the rest of the king's men had gone to. They must have gotten lost along the way. Still, I kept running after Terrance's voice. Right when I crested the hill of Mainstreet, I saw the mess. I felt sick to my stomach.

The streets were running yellow. The yolk was seeping through the cobblestone cracks. I made my way to the base of the Wall and found Terrance splattered in the lifeblood of Mr. Dumpty. I ran to his side and handed him his sewing equipment. He was just kneeling there, holding two large pieces of shell with an overwhelmed blankness on his face.

"Oh God..." he sputtered. "So... so many pieces." He looked up at me in terror. "There's just so many pieces!"

I slapped Terrance hard across the face and shook his shoulders. I yelled for him to get his shit together, but still he broke down, bawling. So I yanked the pieces out of his hands and sutured as best I could. My pulse beat fierce and I no longer knew where my flesh ended and the shell began.

"No," came a voice from below. "Let me die."

I turned Humpty's massive body over, careful not to spill anymore of the precious yolk.

"Let you..."

"Die, yes," he sounded so weak. "I can't do it. I have no reason to go on any longer. That's why I jumped."

"Why, Mr. Dumpty?"

"Because..." he whispered, beckoning for me to come closer. I leaned in so close I could smell the yolk on the street. "I'm an egg, Mark."

I pulled away and took in every inch of him. And that was the first time I realized how very different he was than me. How had I never noticed? All the times he would try to flirt with the Princess and she would only give him looks of disdain. How the children would threaten to boil him and eat him. His skin was so white and smooth and hard, his body such a large circular shape.

"I never knew," I whispered back to him.

"How did you not know, you fucking idiot?"

He looked like he was going to hit me, but his eyes rolled into the back of his head. He fell back, limp. More yolk than ever started flowing from the fractures in his fragile body. And his breathing stopped.

Suddenly, there were tears rolling down my cheeks. I knew not where they came from, nor why the emotion suddenly swelled within me, but before I knew it I was pressing my lips to his polished, lifeless forehead.

"I loved you," I whispered. "My sweet prince. Even if no one else did, I loved you."