Shopping has made me begin to feel normal again, for the first time in weeks.

I’m back at uni, about two hours away from my home town. It’s almost two o’clock, and I’ve got a lecture in about half an hour. After going to a nice pub in town for lunch, I’ve spent the last hour or so in Primark, getting a bunch of new clothes - my favourite kind of self-care. I’ve been treating myself a lot lately, spending more and more on new stuff. Probably more than I can afford, though that doesn’t bother me - my parents will send me more money if I run out.

It’s important to do whatever you can to make yourself feel good after something bad happens. And something really bad - not to mention scary and confusing - happened to me a couple of weeks ago.

About three days after I went home to see my parents for Easter, I had some kind of crazy blackout while I was home alone. One minute I’m on the sofa watching YouTube; the next I’m in my wardrobe, stark naked and frozen in place like a statue! I have no memory of what happened in the meantime, but it seems I switched the TV over to a public gangbang video, which I left paused, before stripping, shoving what I was wearing (as well as a heap of my other clothes) in the cupboard under the stairs - where they ended up covered in dust and cobwebs - and shutting myself in the wardrobe.

My parents came home and found no sign of me - they searched the house, they tried calling me (which was no use because I’d left my phone on my bed), they got in touch with a bunch of my friends to see if I was with them. Eventually I managed to alert them to my whereabouts, which was not easy given that I couldn’t move or speak. In the end I had to use the only remaining way I could - through smell. I don’t want to go into details, but let’s just say it was lucky I’d apparently drunk a full glass of water earlier. The second my mum opened my wardrobe, I could suddenly move again. Go fucking figure.

I almost fell over then, my muscles aching from fuck-knows-how-long of standing stock still, but the awareness of the damp floor beneath me motivated me to keep myself upright. I burst into inconsolable tears for a good long while after that, unable to process what had happened to me - particularly after Mum and Dad told me what they’d found on the TV. It was the first time in years that I’d cried for real, though I’ve fake-cried dozens of times, either when acting in amateur theatre productions or to manipulate people. (I used to feel proud of how easily I could get people to do what I wanted by either smiling at them or crying in front of them. Weirdly, I feel kind of embarrassed about it now.)

Credit to Mum and Dad, they were actually really comforting (which made me feel guilty about being so irritated by them earlier the same day). They thought I’d been drugged, or maybe I’d had a head injury that caused some kind of temporary insanity. They barely mentioned the porn either, writing it off as another bizarre side effect of whatever had happened to me. After I put on some new clothes, Mum immediately took me to hospital, where she managed to wrangle a doctor to examine me. He was deeply concerned - and clearly confused - by my story, and sorted me out with blood tests and a brain scan immediately, hoping to get to the bottom of it. But there were no drugs in my system, and there was nothing wrong with my brain as far as the doctor could tell.

He then suggested I had had a psychotic episode and suggested I meet with a psychiatrist, but at that point Mum and I decided to get the hell out of there. Whatever had happened to me, it wasn’t worth risking me ending up in a padded cell. For the rest of the holiday Mum and Dad - and my sister Celeste when she came back from uni for a couple of days - made sure one of them was with me at all times, from breakfast ’til bedtime. I felt like a fucking child, but I bore with it, my embarrassment outweighed by my fear of another crazy blackout. Mum even tried to persuade me to not go back to uni, but after a week and a half with no more ‘episodes’, I insisted I’d be OK. Truth be told, I just wanted to put this all behind me.

I still do. I try my hardest not to think about it (hence the therapeutic shopping) but it’s always near the front of my mind. I’m constantly asking what the fuck happened to me - and whether it’ll happen again.

Anyway, I’m on my way out of Primark, carrying two bags of shopping. Glancing at my phone to check the time, I start trying to work out whether I have time to get back to my flat, drop off my new clothes, and then get to the lecture hall before my seminar starts. I think I’ll be alright. If I’m a few minutes late it’s no big deal, I’ll just slip in at the back. Melody will tell me if I’ve missed anything important.

As I’m about to put my phone away, it starts to ring. Holding it back up, I look at the screen and read the name of the contact:

‘Master’.

Um, what the fuck? Who’s ‘Master’? I think I’d know if I had someone in my phone under that name. (Title. Whatever.) I’ll reject the call.

My thumb moves across the screen - and clicks the green ‘answer’ button. What?!

As I’m inwardly wondering why the hell I did that, I hold the phone up to my ear.

“Hello, Toni,” says a low, smug-sounding voice in my ear. It’s strangely familiar...

“Hello, Master,” I reply.

Wait. Wait one fucking second. I did not mean to say that. Why did I say that?! Oh, God - I’m starting to feel like I can’t control my own body again, like when I was frozen in my wardrobe. I breathe rapidly, panicking at the sensation of helplessness.

“Calm down,” says the voice in my ear. “We don’t want you passing out...”

“Yes, Master,” I gasp automatically. Though inside I’m still freaking the fuck out, my body forces me to take a deep breath in and then out, over and over, until my panic attack subsides. It’s so bizarre, feeling calm in my body but terrified in my mind.

“Time to have some more fun, Toni,” Master says. “Where are you now?”

“I’m outside Primark, Master.”

“In the town centre? The town where your uni is?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Perfect. Do you have anything with you right now, apart from your phone?”

I look down at the items I’m carrying. “My purse and two bags of shopping.”

“Clothes?”

“Yes, Master.”

I hear him snort. “Yeah, that figures. OK, Toni, do you know where McDonald’s is?”

I think for a moment. “Yes, Master.”

“I’m sitting on a bench out front - you’ll know me when you see me. Drop your shopping bags where you are and come find me. Don’t try to talk to, or otherwise communicate with, anyone on your way there.”

“Yes, Master.”

Sure enough, I release my bags of clothes - which cost me nearly £100 altogether - and start walking in the direction of McDonald’s, leaving my purchases lying in the street five feet away from the shop where I got them.

The two-minute walk is more than enough time for me to figure out what’s going on. I didn’t have a psychotic episode. I didn’t hit my head. I might have been drugged, though the blood tests that doctor did make that seem unlikely. No, the explanation is simple: I’m being mind-controlled by this ‘Master’, who I can’t help but obey. He seems to enjoy using his powers to humiliate me, if our last encounter is anything to go by, and he can make me forget all about him after he’s done with me.

I have to fight this. I can’t let him control me.

I try to change direction - to go into another shop, or an alleyway - or to just stop walking. But my legs keep moving, propelling me towards Master as if I’m a wind-up toy.

I try to call out, to yell that I’m being controlled and made to do things against my will, but my voice won’t function at all. I try to catch the eye of a passer-by, to show them my distress, but the few who actually see me don’t seem to notice anything wrong. After the third time this happens, I realise I’m not showing them a face of misery, but instead smiling pleasantly.

Fuckety fuck. I can’t fight this. I can only march on towards my mysterious foe.

I hate this. I don’t want this. But maybe I deserve it.

Wait, where did that thought come from? I don’t deserve this. No-one deserves to be controlled, abused and humiliated! (Well. Actually I can think of a few pathetic creeps and bitches who do. But not me.)

But the more I try to tell myself that I’m the victim here, that this Master is torturing me for no reason, the more that thought comes back to me: I deserve it. I deserve to be controlled and used. I deserve to be punished and made to submit.

And more cruel, self-deprecating thoughts start coming to me: I’m a manipulative bitch. I’m a cheating whore. I hurt everyone around me. I brought this on myself.

This is wrong. These nasty, hateful thoughts - I’ve never had them before. Except... Now that I think about it, a couple of them have drifted into my head over the last few weeks, usually when I’m replaying my former glories in my mind. Thinking about the people I’ve screwed with, shown who’s boss, would once give me a warm, proud, triumphant feeling, like a fucking queen. But lately, they’ve been having the opposite effect, making me feel ashamed, small and wretched. Like maybe deceiving and hurting people to show how powerful and cunning I am isn’t such a good idea. Like I’m not a queen - I’m a whore.

But I haven’t thought like this for long. Only since... Since the day of my blackout.

Oh my God, he did this to me! He put these thoughts in my head! Master wants me to hate myself, to feel like I deserve to be controlled and punished by him.

Well, fuck him. I don’t deserve this. I don’t care if I’m a bad person or not, I never have. I don’t need to be - I’m a strong person, who controls her own destiny.

At least, I was...

All this has raced through my head in the space of two minutes. Now I suddenly realise, I’m standing in front of McDonald’s. I glance to my right, and see the bench I’m looking for.

And sitting there, wearing a purple T-shirt, black jeans, a khaki green jacket, and a broad, gleeful smile - Master.

Holy shit, I know him. He’s that nerdy loser who asked me out at school. I laughed in his face and then got all my friends to make fun of him, too. He’s had a bit of a glow-up - he’s almost hot now. But Jesus, no wonder he wants to punish me. I really humiliated him back then. I guess it’s only natural for him to want to repay the favour. I did bring this on myself.

No, stop it. Shut that shit down. I did not bring this on myself. I don’t deserve to be punished. He’s an arsehole who gets his kicks from making me into his puppet.

What was his name again? Master. No, his actual name. His name is Master. Fuck, why do I keep thinking that? His real name is... Master. That’s all I’ve got. I know I knew his name, but it’s been erased, replaced with the title he so obviously prefers.

Still sitting on the bench, Master beckons to me, and I find myself walking towards him.

“Hello, Toni,” he says smugly, as I sit down next to him.

“Hello, Master,” I reply dully. It feels like it’s not me saying the words, like someone else has hijacked my mouth.

“I’ve spent the last two months thinking about the last time I saw you.” He leans back against the bench, his eyes clouding a little as he reminisces. “It was by far and away the most fun I’ve had in a long, long time. Certainly the most use I’ve got out of my new abilities. Don’t get me wrong, they’ve helped me make my life easier - I’ve got out of some parking tickets, cut off some boring conversations... But I haven’t really tested their limits. Seen how far I can push someone with them. Truth be told, I feel guilty using them on people.”

He smiles savagely at me, his eyes narrowing into a sort of cruel squint. “But not you! See, I really enjoyed punishing and humiliating you that day - but I’m not done with you yet. I’ve thought of some more ways to mess with you. Nothing quite so dramatic, since we’re in public... at least, not yet.” He winks at me, sending a chill of fear up my spine.

I try to get up from the bench, to run away from him. I try to say something, to make a sound, even the tiniest whimper. Absolutely nothing happens. All I can do is sit here, staring miserably at Master.

He opens his mouth to say something.

“Toni!”

That’s not his voice. It’s coming from behind him, a fair distance away. I look over his shoulder.

Oh my God, it’s Amelia. Melody’s flatmate. Thank fuck. I’ve never really liked her - too friendly, chirpy and talkative - but I will take literally any help I can get right now.

Master glances behind him, seeing Amelia approaching us. I expect him to panic, but when he looks back at me he’s just as calm and collected as before. Why isn’t he worried? Isn’t he afraid he’s going to get caught?

Wait. He said he’d been using his ‘abilities’ on other people. So it’s not just me he can control - it’s anyone. Everyone. So even if Amelia figures out what’s wrong, she won’t be able to help. She could end up just as controlled as me. Fuck.

“Friend of yours?” he asks, his smile never wavering.

“Not... exactly, Master.”

Amelia reaches us. “Hey, Toni!” she says brightly. “I thought you had a class? Melody’s already there, I think - you’ll be late if you don’t hurry!” She notices Master. “Hi there! Who’s your friend, Toni?”

I stare at her, trying to convey my despair to her, but my face won’t respond. It just goes blank and vacant. I try to say something, but my mouth opens and closes without making a sound.

Though that wasn’t what I was trying to do, it does seem to have got her attention. She leans towards me, looking concerned. “Are you OK?”

Master quickly stands up, holding out a hand to Amelia. “Hi, I’m Russell,” he says.

Still looking at me, she shakes his hand. “Amelia,” she answers. “Nice to meet you...”

“Have a seat, Amelia,” Master asks. Except now I know his real name - he just said it to her. It’s Master. No, it’s... Master. Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Complying, Amelia sits down on his other side. He turns to face her, as if I’m just an afterthought. I should take the opportunity to make a run for it, but of course I can’t.

“So, how d’you two know each other?” he asks Amelia nonchalantly.

She still seems confused and worried about me - her glance flickers back and forth between me and him. “Uh... she’s friends with my flatmate, Melody.”

“I see,” he nods. “And what do you think of her, honestly?”

She frowns. “She’s OK. I mean, we don’t really know each other that well. I try to talk to her when she comes round to see Melody, but she doesn’t seem that interested in talking to me. I think maybe she and Melody are into each other, so I try to give them some space.”

“Toni and Melody are dating?” Master asks, surprised.

“Well... I don’t think they’re dating, but Melody seems really into Toni. She talks about her all the time. And Toni seems to feel the same way - she comes round to see Melody quite a lot.” Amelia suddenly and decisively closes her mouth, as if realising she’s babbling and giving away too much information. The poor girl hasn’t realised why yet, though.

Master looks back round at me. “And do you feel the same way, Toni? Are you interested in Melody?”

I try as hard as I can to not answer - to grit my teeth and hold my mouth shut. Two seconds pass, during which I feel like my brain’s going to burst from the effort.

“No, Master,” I finally blurt. “I’m just using her to get good grades on this course.”

Amelia looked bewildered at the sound of the word ‘Master’, but now her mouth is open in shock and anger. “Are you kidding me?” she snaps.

I shake my head mournfully.

Master sucks his teeth. “Well, well,” he says, shaking his head in mock disappointment. “It seems you really haven’t changed, Toni. Still breaking hearts all over the place.”

“Melody’s besotted with you,” Amelia snaps. “And you were just using her the whole time?”

When I say nothing, Master shoots me a stern look and says quietly, “Answer her.”

“Yes,” I say sadly. An overwhelming wave of guilt hits me. I’m a manipulative bitch. I hurt everyone around me.

“I think poor Melody should know about this,” Master says to Amelia, his face a picture of earnest concern. Bastard’s not even trying to look convincing, but she’s too mad at me to notice.

“Damn right she should! I’m gonna go find her right now.”

But as she starts to get up, Master holds out a hand. “Wait a moment, please.” Looking confused, she sits back down.

“I was just wondering, is your outrage just borne of protectiveness for a friend?” he asks her. “Or is it motivated by something else - say, romantic feelings of your own?”

“What? No,” she replies, shaking her head. “I don’t have feelings for Melody. Don’t get me wrong, she’s cute, but she’s just my friend.”

“A pity,” he shrugs. “You’re clearly much better for her than this.” He points his thumb over his shoulder at me, not even bothering to look round. “I could tell straight away what a warm and friendly person you are, and you’re clearly a loyal friend. Melody would be lucky to have you.”

“Er... thanks,” she replies, clearly unsure whether to be flattered by this compliment from an odd stranger. Run, girl. Run fast, run far. Before he really gets his hooks in you.

“I need you to listen to me carefully,” he tells her firmly. (Damn, too late.) “In a minute, when I say so, you can go and find Melody. But you will remember this little encounter differently. For a start, you won’t remember me at all - I wasn’t here. You ran into Toni in town, and she told you about using Melody. You’ll remember her saying it cruelly, like she wanted to hurt you - or rather, hurt her. You then left to find Melody as quickly as possible to tell her the truth about Toni. In fact...” He turns to face me. “Toni, is there anything else Amelia should know? For instance, have you been dating anyone else while you’ve been stringing her along?”

“Yes, Master,” I answer. “I was dating two guys at once. Neither of them knew about each other, either.” I’m a cheating whore.

“Damn, Toni,” he laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. “You really do give love a bad name, don’t you?”

“Yes, Master.” I start to tear up. I deserve to be punished and made to submit.

“OK, so obviously you can remember her taunting you with that little revelation as well, and pass that along too,” he tells Amelia. “Also, you’ll give serious consideration to whether or not you’re attracted to Melody. You’ll ponder whether the two of you would make a good couple.” He smiles at her, and for once his expression actually looks... kind. “Now, whether or not you do have feelings for her and choose to act on them - and whether she feels the same way - is up to the two of you. But the poor girl’s going to be devastated by this betrayal, and I just think you could be the right person to mend that broken heart.” He leans closer towards her. “Do you understand everything I’ve told you to do?”

“Yes,” she replies, her normally chipper voice sounding flat and emotionless. She looks completely bewildered and a little scared. No doubt she’s been trying to resist his control as well, and has found she can’t. My sympathy for her doesn’t last long - at least he’s not making her strip and stand in a fucking wardrobe until she pees herself! Think yourself lucky, mate. I’m getting tortured here. Then again, I deserve it.

No, I don’t. Stop it, brain. I don’t deserve this.

“Very good, Amelia. Now, you’d best find your friend.” He waves a hand at her dismissively. “Off you go.”

She gets to her feet and walks briskly away, not looking back.

“Another life ruined by the great Antonia Sweet,” Master sighs as he watches her go. “At least Melody will learn the truth before things get any more intimate between the two of you. How far would you have gone to keep her onside, out of interest?”

“I’d do anything, Master,” I confess. “I’ll fail my course without her help.”

“You’d even seduce her?”

“Probably, Master. But I don’t think I’d ever need to go that far... She thrives off the littlest bit of attention from me. Whenever I think she might be disappointed that she’s not getting more from me, I get her back onside with the tiniest amount of affection - light little caresses on her arm, kisses on the cheek - and she just melts. She’s easy to manipulate.”

All of this streams out of my mouth so easily, it’s like I had the speech prepared. I feel more crushing guilt and shame. How can I keep telling myself I don’t deserve to be tormented like this, when I’ve been so awful to a girl who’s clearly head over heels for me? I’m a horrible person.

“Whew,” he whistles through his teeth. Even he seems disgusted by this admission - and he already hates me so much. “You really are just an utter bitch, aren’t you? A selfish monster.”

“Yes, Master,” I sob. I’m a manipulative bitch. I’m a selfish monster.

“Well, I suspect you won’t be able to seduce her any more,” he says thoughtfully. “And without her help, you’re doomed to fail your course. Aren’t you?”

“Yes, Master. Unless I can find someone else on the course who can help me instead.”

He tuts. “You mean, someone else you can string along with a little bit of affection, and then discard as soon as you have no further use for them?”

No! That’s not what I meant... Isn’t it? I consider what I said, and what was going through my head when I said it. Damn it, I was thinking of anyone else on the course who might fancy me. There’s a nerdy boy called Elias who might be a good target. God, look at me! I’ve just gone all weepy and guilty over using Melody, and less than a minute later I’m thinking about doing the same thing to someone else.

“Yes, Master,” I admit.

“You cow,” he sighs. “Well, I’m not letting that happen. You’ll just have to do it all by yourself, pass or fail. Most likely fail. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Master,” I nod. I shudder inwardly at the thought of failing and dropping out. But I brought this on myself. I used Melody, and I hurt her. I hurt everyone around me.

“Very good.” He checks his watch and sighs. “My train’s leaving soon. I could stay and mess with you some more, maybe find somewhere to stay overnight... But I’m not that interested in spending the night in an unfamiliar bed. I think I’ll keep this particular session short and sweet.”

Thank God. He’s leaving. Does that mean he’s going to let me go? At least for now...

“Listen to me carefully, Toni. In a minute, I’m going to leave you. When I say ‘goodbye’, you’ll forget that I was even here. You won’t remember seeing me or Amelia today, or me calling you - the last thing you remember, you were outside Primark. But from now on, whenever you hear the word ‘right’, whether you say it or someone else does, you’ll find yourself stuttering uncontrollably. The more you try to fight it, the worse it’ll get, until you can’t get a single word out. That’ll carry on for... oh, let’s say five minutes. After that, you’ll be able to talk normally - until the next time you get triggered.”

What the fuck? Why does he want me to stutter? And if I’m going to forget all this... I won’t know why I’m doing it. That’s going to freak me out completely. (I mean, not as much as being frozen naked in a wardrobe, but still, not being able to speak... That’s terrifying!)

He’s giving me that cruel smile again. “Let’s see you try to use and manipulate people if you can’t even talk to them. Oh, and one more thing before I leave you.”

He stands up in front of me. “Sit yourself in the middle of the bench,” he instructs me, “and spread your legs out nice and wide.”

“Yes, Master.” I do as he asked.

“OK, now raise your arms up to either side of you. Like you’re holding a big heavy box.”

“Yes, Master.” I lift my arms up, holding them out at my sides, elbows at an angle, arms straight, palms facing inwards. Wait, is he making me sit like... a sex doll? I look up at him in horror.

“Stare out in front of yourself, and make your face expressionless.”

With yet another “Yes, Master,” I obey, lowering my gaze and staring blankly straight ahead. As he’s still standing directly in front of me, that means I’m now gazing at his crotch.

“Good... Now, the finishing touch. Open your mouth nice and wide.”

“Yes, Master.” And I do so, opening my mouth as far as it will go.

“Perfect. My slutty slave, turned into a living sex doll. This ought to get some attention.” I hear the click of a phone camera. “A memento,” he sniggers. “Now, don’t move from that position, or make a sound, until someone touches you.”

Oh, fuck. He’s really going to leave me here, isn’t he? Trapped in this pose, out in public where anyone can see me. And he’ll make me forget how I even got in this humiliating situation. Again.

He must hate me so much. I must have hurt him so badly. I don’t even know what I did to him, but I’m sure it was terrible. I’m a despicable person, after all. I’m a selfish monster. I deserve to be controlled and used.

“When you do snap out of this, you won’t tell anyone about it,” I hear him say, his voice full of barely restrained glee. “Not your parents, not a doctor, nobody. You’ll be desperate to convince everyone that you’re alright, even though you know you’re not. You won’t want to tell anyone that anything’s wrong. And you’ll continue to feel like you deserve what’s happening to you - like you’re being punished.”

He pauses, starting to move out of my line of sight. I try to follow him with my eyes, but they stay glassily fixated in front of me, gazing into the busy high street. He’s about to wipe my memory, I’m sure of it. Any second now. He could’ve done it already, but he’s just prolonging the agony. Making me suffer just a tiny bit longer, before I forget why I’m suffering. Give the man some credit, he really knows how to torture someone...

“This is where we part ways, my dear Toni. Oh, you’ll be seeing me again soon enough, and we’ll have even more fun. But for now...”

Any second now. I don’t want to forget who’s doing this to me. But I don’t want to remember any of this.

Just get it over w-

“Goodbye.”

What? Where am I? What’s going on? Why can’t I move? Oh fuck, not again. Not again. And not in public! I’m in the middle of town! And I’m sitting on... a bench, I guess - in a sex doll pose!

This is horrifying. At least last time I was at home, and only my parents and my sister knew about it. Anyone can see me in this position! I’ve never felt so humiliated. And I still can’t move. I can’t lower my arms, I can’t close my mouth or my legs. I can’t even move my eyes, whereas I could last time. Oh God, no, someone please help!

Last time I was frozen, I was in my wardrobe, and I snapped out of it when Mum opened the door. But there aren’t any doors this time. I haven’t been stashed away for someone to find me - I’m in plain view. So if there are no doors to open, how am I going to get free? How I am going to move again?

What if I never do? What if I’m just stuck like this now? Someone’s going to call for help eventually, right? Get me taken to hospital, where they’ll figure out what’s wrong with me. Yeah, they’ll fix me at the hospital, surely...

What if they can’t, though?

What if they can’t figure out what’s wrong with me? What if I’m frozen like this forever?

“Hello? Excuse me?”

That’s an unfamiliar voice. It’s a woman. Sounds middle-aged. “Are you OK, love? Hello?” She waves a hand in front of my face. I see it, but my eyes refuse to follow it, staying fixed ahead of me. I feel her hand on my left shoulder, and she gives me a small shake.

The tension abruptly leaves my body. My arms flop to my sides, my legs relax, and I close my mouth and blink rapidly. Thank fuck for that. Only a brief madness this time, although a terrifying and humiliating one. I look at my saviour - a woman in her forties or fifties, sitting on the bench next to me. She has grey hair and wears glasses and a light blue fleece, and is frowning worriedly at me.

“Hi,” I say, breathing rapidly in a mixture of panic and relief.

Her frown deepens. “Hello... Are you OK? You looked... strange.”

“I’m fine,” I say quickly, struggling to calm myself down. Wait, no, I’m not fine. Something’s seriously wrong with me, and this woman saw it - I should tell her about it! Maybe she could help...

“Are you sure?” she asks.

“Just, uh, performance art,” I reply nervously. “A social experiment. I was testing to see how long it’d be until someone came up to me...”

She looks unconvinced. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve done it a few times in different places.”

“I see,” she says slowly. “Well, you might want to pick a different pose. You attracted a fair bit of attention, and a lot of that was lecherous looks from passing men.”

I smile weakly. “I’ll keep that in mind. I’ve got to go...”

I get up from the bench, cursing inwardly. I really should’ve told her what was really happening to me - not that I actually know. But maybe it’s for the best that I just try and get away from this situation as fast as possible, and put it behind me. It was so humiliating. Though I probably deserved it, considering how many people I’ve hurt and humiliated over the years...

“Are you sure you’re alright?” the woman calls after me.

I’m really not. “I-I’m f-f... fine, thank you,” I stammer back at her as I walk briskly away. What was that about? I never stammer. Must be the embarrassment and anxiety.

I make my way through town, heading to my lecture. I keep my gaze lowered to the ground ahead of me - it feels like everyone around me is staring at me. That was so awful. I was just starting to feel normal again, and then this shit happens.

Oh, and I have no idea what happened to my shopping. Fuck! I spent so much money in Primark, and now I’ve lost my new clothes. Maybe they’re still there? If I hurry back now... I pivot and head back in the direction of the shop, pausing briefly to check my phone. God, I am so late for my lecture. Well, at this point I might as well skip it. Getting those clothes back - if I can - is more important.

Besides, Melody can always tell me what I missed...