I woke up in the hospital, confused. Sitting up, I glanced around, "What?"

"You passed out because of starvation, asphyxiation, and a few other factors," A nurse claimed, glancing up from where she was writing stuff on papers attached to a clipboard.

"Oh. I was brought in, right? I wasn't taken via ambulance, was I?" I groaned out, throat scratchy.

"No, your school's principal brought you in after finding you on the floor. How did you get these injuries?"

"Hunger-strike, panic attack, and I don't know," I lied easily, "Is the M- the principal still here?" Saying "Master" with marks around my throat probably would give an extremely wrong impression. My entertainment wouldn't drag me from class if he's in jail. Fucking hospitals and police, can't ever say shit without them taking it the wrong way, can I? Fucking hate them all.

"No. He left a while ago. Can you give us your parent's number so that we can contact them?"

"I'll call them. I'm in the main hospital, right?"

"Health's Hospital, yes," The nurse confirms. I shook my head idly as I called my family, seeing that it was a bit after five.

"Hello?" The voice of my adoptive mother asked.

"Yo, I'm in Health's right now. Can you come and check me out? Maybe show them my insurance card so I don't have a big ass bill to pay?"

"Um, language," She said casually, calmly. She didn't care. My heart burned, and I scowled, ignoring the nurse's look at that, "Why are you in the hospital?" She sounded almost expectant. My stomach twisted uncomfortably at the sheer disgust that ran through my form.

"Just come here and get me out of here today. I don't give a fuck what the doctor's say, I have school tomorrow," I snapped.

"Language. What phone are you calling me from? It's not the hospital's," She pried almost gleefully, voice forcefully casual. Not that she cared about me borrowing someone's phone. She wanted to know if she had something to use against me. Something to take, since I never gave her anything she could do to punish me if I was being a bastard to her and others. Or what she thought of as me disrespecting her. As if I ever respected her.

My throat closed up, what little stomach acid that had been untouched rising up to combat the walls of my throat, "Principal's cellphone. He's letting me use it."

"Mm. We'll be there soon, sweetie," She said, "Love you, bye."

"... Bye," I replied, hanging up. The nurse looked at me carefully, looking at my neck, which surely held bruises, and then at my face, which was certainly pale. I didn't care about my body overreacting to my disgust and dislike even as I called the only other contact this phone held.

"You're awake," He stated simply.

"Did you have to bring me here? I'd have preferred being dumped into a ditch," I immediately complained, voice not passive for once, unable to keep the disgust from my voice.

It is silent for a few long moments, before a small, almost nervous, chuckle sounded out from the phone. It was a relieved one, as if he didn't know whether what he did went too far, which was ridiculous. He sent me to make booty calls for him weekly and thought I'd care if he gave me a few bruises due to my assholic ways?

"Don't like hospitals?"

"I'm a minor. I can't refuse treatment, I can't check myself out, I can't do shit here. I don't care that I'm in a hospital, but it's easier to tell people I missed the bus when they don't have to check me out of a fucking hospital," I lamented. Another long silence.

"Hmm, I'll keep that in mind."

The phone is silent for various moments, in which my eyes trail up to the ceiling as I casually remove any wires from my person. He wanted to say something, but didn't seem able to put it into words, from what I gathered.

"What are you doing?" I ended up asking flatly as I looked around to see if anything else was there that was mine. None. I stood up carefully, realizing that I could stand, and the nurse still in the room frowned at me.

"... Do you want me to be there to explain things to your parents?" He finally asked, ignoring my previous question.

"No, it's fine. If all goes well, I'll be in school by tomorrow," I explained. I tried leaving the room only for the nurse to grab me, "Let me go!" I snapped.

"You shouldn't be walking around-"

"I'm fine," I snapped, "Leave me alone. I'm headed to the front desk anyway."

"You should stay in the room," The nurse denied, trying to lead me to the bed, "When your parents get here we can show them to this room."

"Does it look like I give a fuck? Release me, now, or I'm pressing charges," I snapped. It worked, and with a long-suffering sigh the nurse let me go. I put the phone back to my ear even as I glided out and walked towards the front desk.

"Are you always that stubborn about your health?" The Master asked after a few moments.

"Yes. Why people give a fuck when I clearly don't just pisses me off," I admitted shortly as I walked. Looking around, I saw I was on the third floor. I was in an elevator, the doors closed before anyone else could enter.

"You went from apathetic to angry oddly quickly," He mused.

"I act like this all the time, if you know how to piss me off," I explained, "Which you, no matter how you try, are rather bad at."

"Quick to anger? That's interesting," He said.

"Depending on the topic, yeah-"

"Like child rapists?" He interrupted suddenly.

"..." I grinned at the empty elevator, rolling my eyes as my grin faded, "You know, you trying to find out what pisses me off is kind of adorable."

"Adorable?" He asked, sounding incredulous.

"Like a puppy trying their hardest to bite someone," I supplied.

"I'm... Like a puppy... Trying to bite someone..." He repeated softly, unamused. My legs, which had been working entirely fine before, almost gave out on me at that tone. Had he used that tone when choking me I might have been terrified. As it was, he didn't seem too happy at the comparison. The adrenaline rush wasn't helping.

"Mmhm," I replied simply, legs working again as I walked out of the elevator and sat in the waiting room as if I was waiting for a family member instead of being the one supposed to be in a room, "Yeah. Or like a kitten pouncing. Trying to do something, but failing badly at it enough that it's funny and adorable."

"Right," He drawled, "You'll have extra work tomorrow."

"Not quite fair, but then, I don't really care. Your extra work probably makes it so that there's less work for me to do in total. Middle school classes are like ninety percent filler and ten percent actual important stuff, if that."

We simultaneously hung up. Which is to say, I took the phone from my ear to hang up, only for the call to end. Hm. Nice.

When my parents arrived, I observed them. I pointed to the counter, "Okay, check me out and let's go."

My mother glanced at my neck before going and doing as I said. My brother came over.

"Shit, man. What happened?" He asked, voice low. I tried not to smile at that. Damn did I adore my younger brother. He was going to be the best at whatever he chose to do, one day.

"Got choked out. Fainted. Etcetera," I replied, voice just as low. He nodded, looking worried. I gave him a soft smile to reassure him, even as my cold dead heart warmed at his obvious care. What a great fucking kid.

"Who choked you out?" My dad asked curiously, not sounding like he much cared. He probably didn't, I admitted to myself, heart aching slightly. I felt only hatred for the psychopath that somehow wooed my too-loyal adoptive father, but hearing him not caring hurt more than I cared to think about any further. Ow. It was my fault, but still. Didn't make the hurt go away.

"Just some bully," I lied after a moment's hesitation.

"You should sue," My brother advised wisely, "Wait, can you even sue? What is suing?"

I rolled my eyes with a small and fake chuckle, "It's where you take money from someone else using the court system. No, I won't sue. I don't feel like going through the trouble."

"Oh. Is it a lot of trouble to go through?" My brother asked.

"Yeah," I muttered even as I looked at the people I'd be stuck with for seven more years. Did I regret coming back? I thought about it absently. I kind of just wanted to die, making that machine. It literally had a 0.0+92 extra zeroes ~001% chance of actually working. Which is a lot of zeroes. Like ninety five zeroes, not counting the one before the decimal. So I suppose yeah, I do regret it. Right?

I ignored the argument that popped up as we left and got into the car. I thought about it for a few long moments more. I had spent elementary pretty calmly, not making many friends, but figuring out what I wanted out of life. Figuring out what to learn and what to not do.

Eventually in elementary I came to the conclusion that I wanted to enjoy my childhood, but also make it a useful childhood. Then middle school happened and my plans were pretty much ruined. I ended up making friends with one of my previous ones a year early, and didn't manage to make any others, too busy being called away time and again. No. I didn't regret this second childhood yet. But I would if I continued on the way I'm going right now, I realized.

Once I decided to have fun, I paused my thought process for a few moments, the mental silence one of shock. I thought back to every memory I could remember, almost desperately, only to realize it just wasn't there. I couldn't remember how to have fun. I couldn't remember what I thought to be fun. All I knew how to do was hide my misery or calm myself down. I frowned as I looked out the window, wondering what the hell in my past life caused me to forget that fun was even possible for me.

The next day I barely focused on anything as I thought, even forgetting to put my phone away in my locker as I glared at the gym class that was outside. Okay. New idea. Do sports? Video games? What is fun, and what is just running away from problems? Do I still like writing fiction? Did I ever, or was it just my special way of escaping all of the terrible things that were ensuing around me?

What even was fun?

I jumped as my phone blared out, and I fumbled to answer it, "What?" I asked, a bit disoriented from being pulled from my thoughts so suddenly. The question I had been asking myself was lost on me for a moment before I recalled it. What was fun. Huh.

"Usually you don't answer the first time during class," He mused.

"I forgot to put the phone away," I explained even as I grabbed my shit and walked out of the class, opening my locker and putting everything away. It was just math, I wasn't really missing much besides getting yelled at for not listening and then being sent to the Master anyway for asking to take the test so I could sleep through her class. It happened every day, and I wondered if the teacher was getting tired of the routine. Plus the fact that even though the Master hadn't technically called me out of class, even if he just needed a small favor I was just not going back.

The teacher could suck the Master's dick for all I cared. Again, since she probably already has. Yeah, that.

"That's new," Said Master exclaimed, "Rattled from yesterday?"

"Rattled," I mused, "Truly a word that shows how old you are every day you continue on using it. But no, just distracted today."

"Right..." He said, sounding oddly amused, "Well, I need you to go to the computer lab and pick up the twenty pages I just printed off. That's all," He hung up.

I did as asked, before glancing around his office and flopping into a chair. He gave me a glance, as this was the first time I'd done this. After a few moments of me simply reading a book and him staring at me he sighed.

"Fine, I'll ask, why are you still here," The Master asked.

"Math teacher can suck your dick for all I care," I muttered, "She acts like her words are gospel that everyone needs to listen to even if they already know it all."

"You did ask to take a test to test out of middle school a few months ago, I recall," The Master mused.

"And you refused, ruining every single one of my plans," I replied dryly, "Since I have to go through four years of high school no matter what."

"Who wants to go to bloody university before the age of eighteen?" The Master dismissed.

"Someone who doesn't want to go to any form of education facility after the age of eighteen. Someone who'd rather be someplace else learning shit instead of stuck being bored out of my mind," I listed under my breath.

"You're learning how best to get sent to my office daily," He mused, "Not that I mind my adorable little minion coming to visit."

It's silent for a moment, where we both turn to our respective pages and flip through them.

I flip a page even though I hadn't read a word on the last page. Fun...? What about just plain happiness? I glared at the page, frowning even as I thought. The reason I did anything was for happiness, and the reason I wanted to speed-run school was to get the tiring and stressful things over with so I could work on being happy when I became an adult, but... I was a child, right now. Literally right this second, I was a child. I scoffed under my breath. Whatever. Children were worse than rapists, or so a vine that hasn't been created yet says. I entirely agree.

I didn't have an adult's mind, I had a child's mind. Lots of memory, lots of intelligence, and there should be lots of dopamine, oxytocin, serotonin, endorphins, etcetera. Feeling happy should be easy for me, yet I had been serious and rather unhappy all throughout elementary. Not depressed, or overtly sad, angsty, or anything like that. I was just miserable without a defficiency in the mind juices, sadly.

Have I been doing things wrong? I thought back on my previous life, and my new chance, and frowned thoughtfully. Yes. I had been. I created a fucking time machine, or maybe a time and space machine, and here I was still trying to become someone I wasn't.

I was clearly a mad scientist material and yet here I was acting like Pepper Potts instead of Tony Stark.

I froze, the page ripping loudly as I dropped the book. Sighing I pick up the book, which I had been given for my birthday but never actually intended to read through, and shoved it into my backpack. The Master laughed even as I glared at him, shaking my head to rid myself of the feeling of the Master's hand brushing against the back of my neck. He really shouldn't do that, but when did he care about anything except fun? Especially when it was at other's expense.

"You've been glaring at that page for a long time," He mentioned, "Go and make friends."

"..." I hesitated. Friends? "What..." I sigh, shaking my head, "I have friends," I said blankly.

"Friend," He corrected, hands idly running through my hair after he made a sound of awe at how soft my hair was. I allow him to continue, knowing I'd not get much good attention such as it for months to come.

"T-he," My voice forced itself out awkwardly, "um..." I paused, not sure why my mind and mouth weren't currently working, "... Wow," I murmured quietly with a sigh, "I only need one friend, Master."

"No, you need more than one," He murmured back, copying my tone, "You haven't laughed once."

"I have," I immediately refute, before hesitating, "I..." I think back. I've... laughed... I frowned, crossing my arms. I mean, a bitter laugh as me and my single friend lamented about hating life and society counts, right? The Master doesn't look amused, and I rolled my eyes, "Surely my presence isn't annoying enough for this conversation? I don't need to make friends. I don't need to know how to make friends."

I'm dragged out of my seat by the arm, and I feel embarassed as I'm dragged to the cafeteria, seeing my peers all look at me as I'm physically dragged, feet barely touching the ground, into the lunch room. I stumble as I'm shoved forward.

"She needs a friend," The biggest asshole in the history of ever said loudly, the entire cafeteria silent. I was glaring at him for a long moment before a ghetto black girl spoke loudly.

"She needs a fren I'll be her fren get ova here!" The black girl waved me over frantically, and before I had a choice to run I was being picked up and the entire cafeteria watched as I was thrown to the table. I landed on my feet, unruffled, but the small amount of chatter that had popped up vanished at the treatment, "Daaamnn."

I smiled tensely and fakely at the girl, and sat in the spot cleared for me awkwardly. The Master stalked out of the room, and suddenly the entire cafeteria was a cacophany of voices mixed desperately as rumors and speculation spread like wildfire. He musn't have been nervous, yesterday, so I wonder what emotion of his was portrayed through the phone incorrectly. He clearly had absolutely no care for my physical wellbeing, nor what I think of him when he attacks said wellbeing. In the end, I actually am friends with everyone Andrea, the girl who first spoke up, was, and we got along rather well. I just had to face the inquisition first before I could get there. No, The Master and I weren't related. No, there was no relationship besides mutual hatred, or enmity, between us. Mutual means shared, I was saying we both hate each other equally. Yes, I do have a choice on whether I do what he says or not, and no, I don't have a choice to be his assistant. Yes, I am sure he doesn't care, I doubt he even knows my name. No, I am not used to being thrown like a ragdoll, I presume he was just bored and most likely assumed I would run if not physically forced into the seat. On and on the inquisition went, and on and on I answered questions. By the end of the lunch period I was friends with everyone and really regretted not just staying in math class as, when asked to come over to a new friend's house for a sleepover with the ten or so girls that were now my friends, The Master said yes for me, and then pulled me away to do more work.

When I got the official invite, they asked if he had any say over whether I'd be able to go or not, and I explained that he'd find a way to overrule my parents or frickin adopt me just so I'd go, so there was little to no way I wasn't going.