Otis was furious.
He had been taken as nothing but a plaything, yet again.
He had just started to gain some self-worth. To understand that he wasn't just a toy- he had value as a person, that he mattered.
She had broken him down again. He was right back where he started. He felt so fucking stupid. That he had thought he could have some kind of happiness. He hated himself for allowing himself to feel what he had. He had thought he loved her. He had thought she liked him the same way he liked her. He had thought he had a future with her, however long that would be. He had thought he could enjoy himself. How fucking stupid.
He grew more bitter and hateful toward the world. Everyone he had even slightly trusted had burned him. He wouldn't trust anyone ever again. He had to fend for himself.
"Boy, you alright?" His manager at the trinket shop asked. "You seem like you've got a dark cloud over you..." The older man knew better than to rest a consoling hand on Otis's shoulder. He knew the young boy didn't like to be touched. Otis always flinched, and he didn't ask why.
"I'm fine." He muttered, going about straightening up the store.
"If you need to talk, son...I...I'm more than willing to lend an ear."
"Thanks, but I don't want to talk. I'm fine."
"Okay. Just so you know the offer is there."
Otis nodded.
He went home to his empty apartment and curled up on his floor in an upright fetal position. He had fought so hard to survive, but to what point?
No, he wouldn't give his parents that satisfaction. He would fight. He wouldn't end it. He wasn't a coward. He would face this just like he had faced everything else.
He stared at the make-shift bed on the floor. He couldn't sleep on a mattress anymore. No good had ever come from being on a mattress. It made him sick to think about it. Maybe some day he would be able to again. But not right now.
He sighed. He knew he should have something to eat, but he couldn't make himself get up.
He wasn't sure how long he stayed there, but it was until his body ached with the stillness. When he finally stood, he wandered over to the couch and flopped down on it.
God, this hurt. Rejection hurt. The fact that she had had a boyfriend and was just using him hurt. What she had said about his abuse had really, really stung- how she had made fun of it and laughed in his face. Called him disgusting. He had always told himself he was, but the words had a special pain when someone else said them.
It didn't hurt anywhere near as much as his parent's cruel words, but it was enough. He had had enough pain in his life.
God, he longed for someone to love him. That was all he wanted for as long as he could remember. As he longingly stared out the window, watching the other children from his bedroom as a child. He had just wanted his parents to love him, for just once to not hit him and hold him and cuddle him instead. To give him sweet kisses on the cheek instead of assaulting him in the most cruel ways they could think of. He just wanted affection. Some kind of affection. Someone to look at him and not see him as a fucking toy to just be used and thrown to the side, disposable.
He couldn't ever let anyone in again, though. His pain was more powerful than his longing for affection. He couldn't risk going through that again. The risks definitely did not outweigh the benefits, in his opinion. He felt humiliated. He never wanted to feel humiliated again- his father had done that enough.
He didn't eat that night. He just went to sleep.
He stopped going to the soda shop for lunch. He stopped eating lunch all together.
"Boy...You ain't eatin'. That's not good for you. You're still growin' yet. You've gotta make sure you eat. Ain't you got nothin'?"
"No. I'm fine. I have food."
"You're gettin' too thin there, boy...You're worryin' me."
"I said I'm fine."
Otis knew he was wasting away. He knew he couldn't last much longer. He had gained weight when he was in the hospital right after he had escaped, but there had been something eating away at him in the back of his mind.
His mother had told him that she would love him more if he was skinny. He was already skin and bone- he wasn't fed regularly, if at all. But he had stopped eating all together, gorging at the end of a week and then vomiting it all back up. She had laughed in his face when he asked if she loved him now, when he was ready to pass out standing up.
That had stayed with him. If you're thin, they'll love you. If you waste yourself away, the pain will stop because you'll be good then. You'll be a good man, then. You'll be lovable.
"If you need me to, I can bring you some food, son."
"I'm alright...Don't worry about me, old man. You've got enough."
Otis was running out of money. He had started to have to scavenge at night, when his stomach growled and ached too much for him to ignore.
So, this was freedom, Otis thought bitterly.