The Broken Toy

Alone

Pretty much everything in his life had been the same for as long as Kitten could remember. His room; six paces long and seven paces wide, grey steel door with the hatch in the bottom that food was pushed through once a day, cold stone walls, a single hanging light bulb that flickered off at approximately 9:00 o'clock every night and was back on when he woke in the morning. Everything was grey and boring. Except, of course, for the stains on the floor and walls. To the average viewer, they would have probably appeared quite ominous. But to Kitten they were just another reminder of the bad days.

The calm days always seemed to blend together. Hours spent staring off into space or rubbing away at the patterns he had started to imprint into the walls. There really wasn't a lot to do. Sometimes, he found himself humming a tune that, although he could hum it perfectly, he didn't know what it was or where he had learned it. The only contact he had with the rest of the world was when Anti came to visit.

Kitten didn't know what to think of Anti. Some days, the good ones, he would come in and barley hurt Kitten at all. A few cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious. He would talk, his voice humming with a calming static. And Kitten would hang on his every word. He would run his hands through Kittens long matted hair and remind him just how alone Kitten would be if he never came back.

And Kitten loved it. He leaned into the sharp fingernails. Took every word to heart. Basked in the humming static. And simply relished the presence of another human being. His presence was intoxicating, but Kitten knew to be careful. Because, for every good day, there were two bad days. And it wasn't hard to figure out which sort of day it was.

Bad days where full of glitches. The quiet static grew to a crescendo and grated against the walls. Anti seemed to twitch and jerk. And of course there was blood. Lots of it. Knives galore. Cuts, deep enough to bleed but not deadly. Bruises on his throat. His wrists and arms. His sides. Even the occasional broken bone.

To Kitten it almost seemed as though they were two separate entities. Anti and the Glitch. But they were one and the same. And so Kitten never complained. He didn't want Anti to leave him alone. In all honesty, even the constantly increasing pain of a bad day was better than being abandoned. He knew he didn't even deserve Anti's visits, he'd been reminded on so many occasions, so he accepted Antis decisions.

Of course he still scrambled away. Pushing himself tight against one of the walls. Animal like instincts screaming for him to run. To escape the pain. Of course he still screamed. And whimpered. And begged for the torture to stop.

It did. Eventually. And he would be left alone again. Caged in that grey cement room he had known his whole life.

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So, ya.... I spent a full day creating a plot for this even though I didn't plan on writing it down. Then I sat down and wrote it anyway. And then XShadow said to post it so that's what we're gonna do. Hope the rest of your day is good and somebody gives you a hug.

- Silver