"Brunch" a shrill voice said from the doorway. I looked over my shoulder at the most obnoxious one of my captors. I think her name was Mindy, maybe Mandy, and that she was related to him in someway. It wasn't just me that couldn't stand her, it wasn't hard to notice the eye rolls from the others when she walked into a room.

Mindy/Mandy slid the tray towards me and looked at her acrylic nails. I didn't quite get how the plastic stayed on, but I know that they don't come off easy and when they do it hurts. A lot. Last time when we ended up wrestling, I accidentally—I don't regret doing so—ripped one off. Earned me a slap and a few days without food. Nothing new. When I didn't respond to her, like usual, she sent me a shrewd glare before slamming the door behind her. The sound of her heels clicking was eventually silenced when she went into another room.

I gripped the edge of the tray and slid it towards me, taking a quick sniff. The smell of slightly watery oats and burnt toast. I used the toast to scoop up the oats because they stopped giving me a spoon long ago. I was the mute, dirty, little monster, why would I need to eat like a human?

I was busy consuming my food before it went cold and missed the sound of approaching footsteps. The door cracked open a little bit, letting a sliver of light into my darkness. A head peeked in, followed by a shoulder and a foot, and eventually the rest of the body. The person stood there for a second, letting his eyes adjust, before giving up and opening the door all the way. That fidgety stance belonged to no one but the still lanky boy, who looked to be in his mid-twenties, socially inept, clean freak, ADHD, Timmy. At least he seemed to have ADHD. I can really only go off what I read in books and he fits the stereotype well. Timmy wasn't bad, he was just awkward, in every way possible. And while his visit was unexpected, it is not one to make me tremble.

"Hi," he spoke softly, waiting as if for a response. He seemed expectant of something, of what, I wasn't sure. I let the silence stretch on and on, and tension seemed to grow like a balloon being filled with air. He shifted. And again. And again. His fingers fiddled with the bottom of his button up shirt. He kept glancing between me, my now empty tray, the doorway, and his sneakers. This was going nowhere. Finally I gave in and moved. I grabbed the tray, stood up, and padded over in my bare feet. I wasn't positive this was what he came here for, but it was as good a guess as any. He looked surprises and bewildered at the tray presented to him. He looked once more at my face before taking the tray. "Guess Marcus was talking out his ass when he said he heard you talk" my breath caught in my throat as I struggled to keep my face stoic. I couldn't let them know I could talk still. It's taken forever for them to believe I was mute. "And for you to have said his name of all things, I should have known he was lying" Timmy grumbled, oblivious to my inner panic.

I clenched my hands behind my back, and tilted my head down. Slowly I eased my right foot back, shifting my weight onto it, then easing my left foot the same way. If I could just creep far enough back into the shadows, he might just go away. I had managed to get far enough back that the finer details of his face had blurred out mostly; only my legs were still illuminated from the light coming in the doors. It was at this point he decided to focus on me again. "Oh no, you don't get to go back to doing... whatever it is you do in there... you have to get cleaned up. Guests. That means actually using soap. You reek." He waved a hand in front of his face to accent his point, but the humor in his voice was light. "Come on, I don't have all day to wait for you." He strode in a few steps and grabbed my wrist.

The shock of being touched froze me for a second, but only one. As soon as he started to try tugging me out I resisted. I tried heaving my wrist free but I was weak, and he knew how to keep a strong hold. The thought of sitting down, passive resistance, crossed my mind before I realized he would probably just pick me up. Which meant more touching, and not just my hand or wrist, but around my waist or something. I gave in with a grumble, still forcing him to drag me along at a slow pace to prove my dislike for the situation. The voice in my head which had been silent so far this morning, gave a small sigh of defeat.

Timmy dragged me along to the bathroom, which had stark white walls, a toilet, a pedestal sink, a shower tub with a clear plastic curtain, and a cabinet over top of the toilet. Inside the cabinet was extra shampoos and soaps, as well as a stack of clean towels. This was one of the few updated rooms I've been in since we moved to this location. Bobo and Marcus fixed up this bathroom in the first few days before moving on the next one. It wasn't fancy or cozy, just what was needed. "Your to scrub, wash, shave, anything and everything to make you look like a civilized human being." He spoke with as much command in his voice that I ever heard from him. I quickly glance at myself in the mirror over the sink. My golden locks were still braided from yesterday, but hair was falling out at points. My petite nose looked a little smudgy. I gave a small smile to see my teeth. White and slightly crooked, with a small gap between my front teeth. After Mandy/Mindy complained about my teeth once, I get some whitening crap done regularly, and they double check that I brush my teeth whenever they do the usual medical examinations. They weren't dentists though. I wasn't going to get braces as long as I was with them. I trudged forward the few steps to the shower and turned the water on hot.

Timmy stepped outside the door, shutting it behind himself, and I stripped. Tossing my well-worn clothes on the edge of the sink, I stepped into the blazing hot shower, pulling the curtain around behind me. I was grateful to get hot water here. The last place only had cold water in the shower room I used.

I knew from experience that if I took too long, or if they got tired of waiting, they would come in and shut the water off. No care for privacy. I hurriedly undid the braid, ripping the rubberband from the end and sticking it on my wrist. With a bit of shampoo, I washed the rest of the braid out. I shaved my body, which was in need of it, conditioned my hair, and washed my face. It was while I was washing the last of the suds from my face, the door creaked back open. I turned my body, presenting my back side. "When your done, change into these. Melody will do your hair when you're done." The door shut again with a click.

Melody! That's her name, the voice in my head clamored at me. Why did we think it was Mandy?

I begrudgingly sat still on a stool while Melody tore through my hair with a comb. She continued to mumble to herself about this being a pain or being unappreciated. The voice enjoyed making sarcastic comments back to her in my head. I flinched when I felt something burning hot touch my ear. I jerked my head to see something that resembled salad tongs, just more rectangular, and with metal on the inside. Melody gave me a sarcastic "sorry" and went back to running the hot thing through my hair. When she got to doing the hair by my face, I finally saw its purpose. It flattened my natural curls so that my hair hung straight. No wonder this was taking forever. My hair hung to my waist when wet, and only shortened a bit when dry. The weight of it kept the curls from becoming the tight light ringlets I had in childhood. Melody continued to flatten my hair with the hot thing while I tried not to flinch whenever it was close to my face. My right ear continued to sting.

I let out a breathe when she unplugged the cursed thing and turned around. Unfortunately I breathed back in at the wrong time, as she started to spray something that smelt like oranges and tasted like plastic and soap and something fake. She sprayed it all over my head and hair, creating a cloud of the yucky stuff around me. I held my breath and eyes shut tight while it settled. When I finally tilted my head back up and breathed in, Melody was in front my face with a satisfied smirk. "Hair's done, ya lil freak."

She grabbed my chin lifting it up more and forcing my lips together and forward. I glared at her while she put a horrible shade of pinkish-red lipstick on me. She owned so many shades but, no, she had to grab the brightest one. Next came the mascara, which always scared me after she poked my eye with it the first time she tried putting it on me. I wasn't going to let her do that again. I grabbed the thing from her hand, smearing a little bit on the inside of hand, and stood up. I had to lean in close to the mirror to see well enough to put on the damn thing. Not a bad job, if I do say so myself, the voice in my head said after I managed to get it on my eyelashes and not my eyelids. I held the tube out for Melody and she swiped it from me with a sneer on her face. It might have been childish, but when she turned around, I stuck my tongue out at her.

"Awww. She looks adorable like that, with her tongue sticking out at you" a voice said from the entryway to Melody's room. I tucked my tongue back in and spun to see Marcus in the doorway. I remembered my slip up from yesterday and went very still. Melody sent me a final glare before strutting off and out of the room, calling "the thing's all yours now, buddy" over her shoulder.

Marcus turned to me and suddenly I felt trapped. Melody's room was larger than mine, had proper lighting, and furniture that belonged to a bedroom in it. There wasn't another door to escape with, or boxes to hide behind, or shadows to blend in with. I was stuck standing in the middle of her room in some ridiculous lacy baby blue dress, low heels, and straightened hair. I felt naked.

"So, you're going back to being mute again?" Marcus asked from the doorway, blocking the only plausible exit. I couldn't read his face from this distance, but his voice held a curiousness to it. I tried to keep my face passive and hid the trembling in my hands by balling them up in fists. Yesterday was a mistake, one I simply cannot repeat.

Marcus took in my silence and finally gave in waiting for an answer with a slow shake of his head. I thought I heard a mumbled "whatever" before he turned around and stepped out of the doorway. I knew the drill. He was here to get me to wherever it is they wanted me; so when he started walking, I followed. The hallways of this place had been left unfinished. The sections around doors had dry wall, the rest were a wall of insulation. Whenever I walked through these parts, a weird itch in my nose would build up, sort of like I needed to sneeze. I rubbed my nose with the back of my hand and spotted Marcus's rubber band again. I had forgotten about it after my shower. I sneaked a peek up at the back of Marcus's head, noting a similar rubber band holding back his long -for a guy- rusty brown hair. It doesn't go with the dress. You gonna give it back to him? The voice said a little uncharacteristically. It usually agreed with my motto of avoiding contact and conversation. But it had made a point, I can't keep it. I've been punished for less than an accessory, and he had a keen eye for picking out flaws.

So my option was to either ditch the rubber band as I walked or return it to Marcus. Even with the former option sounding like it's the safest, it just felt wrong to do that. This was a gift. I haven't gotten many gifts. The voice in my head could tell I made my mind and gave me some encouragement. I took a deep breathe in and held it, counting to three before exhaling. Tentatively I reached my left hand out, brushing my fingers on the back of Marcus's arm.

He gave a startled jump and whipped around. My mouth opened and shut. I couldn't find the words to explain myself. He started at me with a confused look on his face. "What?" he asks me. If you can't say anything then just hand the rubber band over already! I couldn't think straight with him staring so intently at me, so I hesitantly slipped the band off my left wrist and held it to him; holding one side of it so that he could take it from me without touching me. When his eyes moved from my face to my hands I could breathe again. I hadn't realized I stopped breathing. He slowly raised his hand up, his eyes flicking back up to meet mine before he pinched the other side of the rubber band. I released it and before I could stop myself I whispered a small "thank you".

I regretted it immediately. Making the same mistake again. But when his faced showed another small smile, one of surprise, and he returned my thanks with a soft "you're welcome" of his own, I didn't hate my tongue as badly in that second. I ducked my head, letting my blonde hair fall like a curtain between myself and Marcus. Oh, stop smiling already. So he knows his manners? You need to not let it get to you like this. The voice in my head sounded exasperated at me, and I quickly made sure my lips were turned downward in a frown. I couldn't have smiled. I just couldn't have.