February 19th, 2018

To… get the first part out of the way. No, I was not permitted to keep the egg. Michael… sold it off rather quickly. As for the fit of rage he… well, he was actually quite remorseful. I know it's ludicrous he even took it that far, and I probably shouldn't have fallen for it, but the incident actually sent the both of us into a depression of sorts. I had never seen him so upset. When he was angry, but also when he was groveling and begging for forgiveness. Granted I… I was so stunned, I immediately forgave him, but he spent the following days trying to make it up for me. He seemed so out of sorts, and I'm not entirely sure it was because of what I did. Or what he had done for that matter.

I later learned that the trip he had taken was nothing short of a disaster. He had lost multiple clients and a big… "project" failed in the process. So he was understandably in a rotten mood. I… suppose his emotions simply got the better of him when he had seen that I had disobeyed, and he lashed out. But that doesn't make it right, of course. I didn't resent him, of course.

...No, it only made me fear him.

This was only the beginning however. Not of a pattern of physical abuse, mind you. But moreso… Michael's downward spiral. From this point on he was never quite the same as I remembered. He was no longer the calm but stern presence. The well-kempt, but dorky man I had been raised by. Over time he became… increasingly disheveled, and rife with anxiety. So much so that, it was about the time where I too developed anxiety of my own. I think it rubbed off on me a bit. He stammered more, seemed a bit more twitchy and indecisive. Always looking over his shoulder even in his own house. He had never used substances or alcohol before, but months after the trip, the refrigerator was regularly stocked with a case or two. I never had any myself, but he would have a can or two almost nightly. Just enough to help him relax and eventually sleep.

I used to always fall asleep before him, but at this point in time it was common for me to attend to all the curtains and lights around the house. He always turned in early. He had become so strange. So much more reclusive. And over time it worsened. By the time of my fourth birthday, we had practically switched places. I was handling the affairs of the house. I was entrusted with his account and… I paid all the bills, I handled the groceries and the phone calls. Michael was more or less confined to his office in the basement throughout the day, and shut up in his room in the evening.

This did allow me more free reign. He had loosened the restraints, and I was free to come and go as I pleased, as long as I always wished him a good night every evening. You would think this improved my social life, and in some ways it did, but I was never busier than I was at this time. Before this, Michael had handled all of the duties outside the home, while I did the majority of the cleaning. Now I was doing both. And my free time… well, I only had less. I stopped and chatted with others from time to time, but it was rare. It was always casual. For the first few weeks, everyone wanted to talk to the strange Glaceon that could walk on her hind legs and hold an interesting conversation, but that novelty wore off soon enough.

I had never felt more alone than I did during this period of my life. Yes, I had fresh air… places to go, people to talk to, occasionally I had to deal with another male hitting on me from time to time, but it was never with the person I had grown most attached to in my short life.

And then summer came, and two changes came with it. The summer of my fourth year, mind you. I would be five at the very end of it. Much to my surprise, Liam returned. As it turned out, his trainer had turned traveling to Snowpoint during the hottest months into a habit, and the Leafeon went out of his way (much to his surprise to see me out and about on my own), to meet up with me again. As awful as our previous experience had been, I needed company, and he was willing to oblige. Every day while he was there, he accompanied me on my errands in town. We would simply talk about life. I would express my concerns with the way things were (I had gotten the aftermath of our first encounter out of the way quickly, but I won't divulge the drama and details that came with that exchange. It's useless now, really), and he would talk to me about all of the changes in his life. He had his frustrations and woes, but mostly good things to say. It was strange how, this time things were so much more cordial. I don't think attempting a repeat of our first encounter ever even crossed his mind. He was certainly more casual and cordial this time around. And for that I was rather grateful. He was simply a friend to me for the few months he could be. That's not to say he wasn't a flirt, but I think that was just his nature. Just a few weeks before my fifth birthday, he and his trainer departed Snowpoint. I don't know if they ever returned, but it was the last time I would ever see him.

No, I was not in love with him at the time, I assure you. I was still a stupid, young female with a wandering eye, but I knew even then that such a notion was ridiculous. That said, the following few weeks after he had left consisted of a rather depressed shadow of my former self. My friend was gone, and my other- at that point, it had been over a year. I don't think I could call him a friend anymore. My "master" as I called him, was purely neglectful. And I was truly sad. Truly lonely and soon enough trapped, as the first snowfall of the year came early. Just days before my birthday.

That was unquestionably the worst birthday I ever had. I vividly remember crying for hours, and…

...oh dear. Yes, it was a very rough day.