Sitting alone in the dark again. 

Staring at the wall. 

The ceiling. The floor. 

It’s all pointless.

The door squeaks open and the only reason I’m still alive waltzes in. 

Meow. He pads up to me and nudges my hand. Meow. I brush my fingers through his soft fur, grounding myself in his existence. He needs me. I’m here because I have to take care of him. I pick him up and cuddle him to my chest, his purring soothing the dark monsters in my head. We get up together to go feed the protective beast in my arms.

As I reach the kitchen, I hear a soft knock at my door. I put down Beast and check the window. My face scrunches up in confusion. I didn’t order anything.

I open the door to the delivery man, who hands me a paper takeout bag stuffed with food.

“There’s been a mistake.” I tell the man.” I didn’t order anything.”

“No mistake.” He checks his phone, “This is for you,” and he walks away, leaving the bag in my perplexed hands. 

Meow. I look down at Beast purring, mewling and shuffling between my feet. 

“Okay Beast, I’ll get you your food. See you need me. Someone has to take care of you.” 

I open his can of food, my miracle food sitting on the counter, untouched for the moment. Once Beast is devouring his meal, I reach for the surprise bag on the counter. I open the bag to see what it is, when a note falls out and flutters to the counter. 

The handwriting is unfamiliar, but reads:

“Make sure you eat something. 

Someone has to take care of you. xoxo, S.”

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