​CONTENT WARNINGS:

​Negative Self-Talk / Body Image Issues

​Verbal Abuse (Customer)

​Phobias: Being Watched, Claustrophobia, Loud Noises.

Physical Pain: Chronic injury (Hip pain).

​Cursing/Profanity

​I woke up and saw the sun was out, but Colton wasn't here. Where is he? I got up and walked into the bathroom. Something was covering the mirror, and I was glad; I still don't like looking at my reflection. As I started to brush my teeth, the way Colton called me beautiful and perfect echoed in my head. It made me feel something I haven't felt in a long time.

​I walked out of the bathroom with my work uniform on, ready for the day—well, as ready as I could be. I saw Bane sitting on the counter. He meowed at me with that deep, monster tone.

​"Hi, Bane," I said to him, petting his head. "How are you this morning? And have you seen Colton?" He just rubbed against my hand.

​"Good morning, little mouse," Colton said in a sweet tone. I saw him put down a cup of what smelled like hot cocoa and a vanilla protein bar.

​He looked at my neck, a small smile playing on his lips like he was proud of something. He walked over to me. "Oh, little mouse... I left a mark on you," he said in a low tone.

​He’d left a hickey on me. He reached out, fixing my collar to hide it from view. "You look good with my marks all over you. Next time, I will cover you in them," he said in a low, authoritative voice.

​I felt my cheeks get warm and my heart beat faster. "Okay," I whisper. I want him to mark me; I feel like I finally belong somewhere for once.

​"Now eat, my little marshmallow. We have a busy day ahead of us," he said as he walked off. I walked over and grabbed the cocoa and the bar. He makes me feel special. I couldn't help but smile.

​I don't want to lose this.

​I sat at the register, eating my bar. The store feels off today. What day is it anyway? I’ve completely lost track of time.

​I see a customer walk in. I look down immediately—it’s a doppelgänger. A few minutes go by as she wanders the aisles, and she finally brings her items to the counter. I scan everything, my heart starting to thrum. "Your total is six dollars," I whisper.

​"You are too quiet, boy," she says in a rude, sharp tone.

​I begin to count the money she handed me. She’s short. "Sorry... you... need... one more dollar," I whisper, my voice trembling.

​I hear her growl in anger. "Count again, you dumbass!" she yells.

​"Okay," I whisper, feeling completely overwhelmed. I begin to shake, and the numbers on the screen start flipping and dancing before my eyes. My dyslexia is making it impossible to focus.

​"Mhmhm..." I mumble, trying to find the words.

​"You are so fucking stupid!" she yells. She reaches across the counter, grabbing the collar of my shirt and yanking me upward. A sharp, hot pain shoots down my hip from the sudden movement. I gasp, trapped in her grip.

​I can't move. Help me, I whisper to myself.

​"You can't do anything, you worthless piece of shit!" she yells, her grip tightening on my collar.

​"Let go!" I manage to yell out. Suddenly, a deep, vibrating growl echoes from the vents above us. The customer looks up, startled. I hear a loud, menacing hiss.

​"How dare you put your dirty hands on what’s mine," Colton growls.