The Taken Cub

He knows me.

When I go to brush my teeth, he waits outside the door. Sometimes in the mirror. I wouldn’t know for sure, but now and then I hear him breathing above me when I spit out my toothpaste under my closed eyes.

I never see him. I’m a predictable person, so I can never catch him off guard. He’s always behind me or out of sight but he never goes away. I should be thankful that there is only one. He’s like family in that way. He has become familiar. Though I’m sure that, if I ever were to go outside, there would be far more of him there. This is better.

It took my bra off for me when I tried to put it on one morning, just a few months ago. That’s okay, I thought. It’s uncomfortable anyway. It’s not like I really need it. It did me the favor of zipping up my favorite comfort hoodie instead.

A few nights ago, I think he crawled into my bed. I don’t have any pets, so I wasn’t able to sleep or turn around when I suddenly came up against what felt like the cold paws of a large dog against my back, pressing my bare skin. For some reason, it wasn’t breathing then. I stayed up all night to see if it would, but I guess he just doesn’t have to do that like we do. He’s so much better than me it makes me wonder why I even exist.

A week ago I started to open my closet only to realize the light from my room wasn’t reaching its interior. I tried using a flashlight, but the whole thing just remained pitch black like the inside of a solid sealed box. I’m sure I could go in there if I tried, but I’m too scared to do it before I figure out what’s going on. My family doesn’t seem to have a problem with me wearing the same clothes everyday. Come to think of it, I hardly used most of my wardrobe inside the house anyway.

They might not be so kind to me for much longer. That same day I went to shower for the first time in a while and when I turned on the faucet I instinctively closed my eyes almost immediately. I knew why the second that the matted fur started to spray out at me, as it felt like bugs were piling up at my feet. I had to get out and scrub myself down with dry soap in the dark.

Yesterday at the dinner table I reminisced to my family about the few memories I have in life. I was talking about my friend of nine years… well, more of a crush, really… but no one seemed to remember him. They were all just staring at something behind me, nobody sure what to say about it. Now I’m not sure if I remember him either. They’re right. It was probably just a dream I had once.

I finally stopped eating this morning. The back of my neck gets wet whenever I put anything inside my mouth. That part used to confuse me. It made sense once I figured out it was probably him drooling. I drop it in his mouth without looking. He deserves the food more than I do anyway.

I’m used to not having much, so it hasn’t been hard to give up a few things for the sake of my new family member. I did, in the past, often wish he would bother somebody else, but I now find it quite likely that I deserve this. It’s funny, I can’t quite imagine a life that’s much better than this one anymore. I feel his breath on my neck right now. His teeth are almost touching it. He wants this boring life of mine for himself. Well, I suppose that’s fine. I didn’t have much use for it, personally.

I hope you’ll like your new son more than me.