Don’t touch him. HIM. No, that’s what he heard but not what was said.

It.

Don’t touch IT.

Reduced to nothing more than a simple two-lettered word. It. Such a disgusting word.

Such a disgusting creature I am.

Immaculate black nails pressed into snowy skin, red indentures left when the claws were raised. Unworthy to share this world with such perfect creatures…

Hah.

Perfect? They knew nothing of perfection. They were dark, twisted monsters. THINGS that thrived off misery; his misery…

ITS misery.

…My misery.

And despite all this, he was the ugly one. He was the one they cut for speaking out of turn, the one they burned for looking up.

It was such a well-thought word. Title, he mused. A name. For it was true. He was nothing more than an object to them. A thing better yet; for objects had a meaning to them.

I do not.

He knew his place well. He was reminded of it daily; hourly even. It, Thing, Pet, Toy. Names so lovingly given to him. It drove him insane, being reminded of how low he was, yet feeding from their attention.

I don’t deserve it…I don’t deserve their gaze; their touch.

Even if it was only pain. It was still something… And yet, it was nothing. At least not compared to what he could do.

My Master…My owner…My lover…nightmare.

Don’t touch it. It’s mine. That’s what he had said… Not to him, of course. His master had been talking about him.

It, how foolish of me to think otherwise.

“I have to stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Thinking about myself as a…a person. You said it so perfectly, didn’t you? It…”

He didn’t answer; he wouldn’t.

Master never answers when I speak the truth…

Tears formed in his eyes and once more, he pressed his nails into his arm. How could he have expected otherwise? The other always got upset when he denied what was precise. He really should stop trying to refute the truth. Stop trying to think.

It just hurts me. It wouldn’t be so bad if I just stopped thinking. I have stopped fighting…wishing…being myself. It wouldn’t be bad at all. He will still continue to hurt…love me.

Nothing would change. He would just stop wondering why. It didn’t sound too bad. It was much easier to say than him anyways and it didn’t really define anything.

He could live with IT.

“M-Master…?”

“Yes, pet?”

“…Its happy…”