Toy Chica POV

I hate him. I really do.

It's lucky he and Bonnie aren't around at the moment, 'cause I couldn't stop my tears this time if I tried. He humiliated me and Bonnie was in on it. Forget them both.

Today's performance was so awful. He got up there and spent the whole time taking jabs at me and telling the kids it's not okay to love who you want. And they ate it up! The things he said were so vile and disgusting I could never repeat them, and I kept expecting the staff to shut him down, but they didn't. They okayed this! I was catatonic the whole time, and when he finally finished his horrid "routine" he just looked at me with that shit-eating smirk. The asshole didn't even try to hide it. I hate him so much.

Why am I going on about this? I'm at the end of my rope. My so-called friends have made my life hell by putting reminders everywhere of what a disgrace I am. I thought they were willing to live and let live, but I see now that was never the intention. He made an ass out of me in front of everybody, and there's only one animatronic I know that can help me fix this.

…that is, if he'll even respond…

I knock three times, gently, on the outside of a massive gift box. I must be a sight right now, heh. I fold my arms with false conviction as the being within the box leaves its eternal slumber.

"Puppet…I need your help."

The towering figure in the box peers at me, as if waiting for me to respond.

"I'm not sure if you saw what happened today or the other thing that happened a few days ago, but…I have feelings…for Foxy. I-I'm trying to stop, but I can't shake her from my head and the others won't stop harassing me…and…and I could really use some advice."

Puppet stares down at me, unresponsive. I start to shudder under his gaze.

"I…hate myself."

Nothing.

"I've ruined all my relationships. Both of my bandmates gave up on me and I've been avoiding Foxy for days because I'll die if I see her again."

Nothing.

"I feel like I'm trapped and have nowhere to go. There's no way I can go back to life as normal pretending that nothing ever happened. It did! And it was amazing and…" I look to the floor in shame. "I don't want it to end."

The Puppet just looks at me some more before extending its arms and resting its clawed hands on my shaking shoulders.

Yes.

I stand there for a second, not believing what I just heard.

"...Yes?"

The Puppet looks at me for a second longer before retreating back into its box.

The Puppet's presence alone is enough to calm me, yet I can still hardly process what I just heard. Doesn't he know what'll happen if I do that? Of course he does, I told him. But then…why?

I don't think the Puppet wants me dead. Heck, I don't even know if he meant what I think he did. But our "discussion" inspires a confidence in me that wasn't there before. There's no way around it. It's time to attack my problems at the source.