The front doors to the mall slide open in front of me, and music immediately comes pouring out. Along with a bunch of warm, scented air, smelling faintly of pretzels and clothing store perfume. Just from the entranceway alone I can spot at least four different groups of people. The mall seems crowded today. Loads of wandering groups and singles all coming in and out of shops or speed walking down the center hall of the large building.  The place is packed today.

Immediately I feel my pulse quicken and my eyes start to dart from person to person. A few stray gazes make their way onto me, and I feel them like laser beams. A hand on my shoulder, however, stops me from getting any more anxious.

“Hey.” My mother calls down to me. “Nothing’s gonna happen.”

“Okay.” I replied. My anxiety cooled pretty much instantly. Mothers here! “Where are we going first?”

“Hmmph. I need some new refills for the wall scent flowers at home, as well as a new makeup set. So we should head towards White Barn first before anywhere else.” My mother thinks out loud to me before turning her head down and looking at me. She's just about the same height as me but in this instance I am made to feel small, at least by her downward gaze. Authority in everything she does, even the way she looks at me. Emphatic of being her forever-child, I guess. “By the way if you see anywhere you’d like to visit just let me know, m’kay?”

“M’kay.”

…

Tap tap tap tap, my shoes clack on the linoleum tiles of the mall interior. We're getting close to the first destination now.  White Barn, I guess.  A candles and scents shop that's connected to the side of a soaps and lotions shop right next door. The smells from the main entrance definitely partly come from these two shops right here. Floral, fruity, and worst of all, clean linens. It’s a veritable smorgasbord of various scents and smells. All wonderful for the senses, but too many of them at once is a little bit overstimulating. 

“Great, we're here.” My mother comments, walking like she's on a mission straight into the shop. “Look around for any sales that you see while I go for the flower refills.” She says,  not waiting for my response and immediately divulging from our shared path.  She pretty much just beams it towards this large wall, racks and racks of multicolored glass bottles full of various scents.

“Um. Okay.” 

Over towards the side of the double shop that has soaps and lotions,  I notice a big bowl of tiny hand creams. They're on sale, but even these tiny ones are still upwards of ten dollars each. That's practically a scam as far as I'm aware. No way a 3 ounce hand cream the size of one of my fingers is ten dollars. 

But. 

It's cherry blossom scented.

My interest skyrockets. I love that floral smell, it's one of my favorites of all time I'm pretty sure.  Getting one of these would make my whole day! Can you imagine how soft and nice my hands would be!? And who doesn't love smelling like cherry blossoms anyway? 

But they're ten dollars! Are you kidding me? Ten dollars each, individually, for a cream the size of my thumb.  Unreal, this better be the best hand lotion ever if they're gonna get away with selling them at this price. 

God, I bet it is, too! This store always sells the best scents! But mother didn't give me any money at all today, so I have nothing to buy them with.  She normally gives me ten dollars when we go to the mall  so I don't ‘constantly beg her for toys and prizes’ but today she gave me nothing! So I don't have any ways to get these. 

Damnit!

…

Well there's always the free option.

!!!

I can't do that! Stealing is wrong! And mother would get so mad at me if she found out! I'm only ever comfortable in doing something wrong if there's nobody around to catch me. So this is not an option. Stealing is wrong, it's against the law! Wasn't I just saying this the other day?

But… I want them… and they're ten dollars..

But I need them, and I can get away with it.

Just then, it's almost like I stop thinking. Or at least partially so.  The part of me that says I want it wins over and officially stops listening to the part of me that foresees consequences. I choose not to think about them. They do not exist to me. It becomes a very simple matter. With only emotion left, it is my single driving force. Nothing can stop me now,  no one would even know anyway. No consequences at all then that way. I reach to steal a lotion. 

But right as I reach for them, someone taps on my shoulder. 

I go rigid instantly and my heart rate spins from zero to sixty in a single moment. Immediately  I abort reaching for the hand lotions and stuff my hand back into my pocket. All while poorly trying to play it off.  Real smooth. Now turn around!

“Um!” I spin in place. “Yes??” 

Turning around to face the large open  side of the shop, I see nothing and no-one. There isn't a single person on this side of the dual store in fact. As all of the (three in total) attendants have left this side and gone toward the side of the store all with the wallflower products. There's some kindof commotion going on and I can hear someone talking with a very loud voice. But in all… A dark chill runs up my spine.

No one could have tapped me.

I swallow, turning and scanning one more time. I hadn’t even really done anything wrong. Simply just raised my hand towards creams that were on sale. Nothing that I could be called out for in any way. And not seeing anything makes me think….

I must have just imagined it then, right?

“I can’t believe this!” I suddenly hear shouting from across the store. “It's the day off! It's ON the card! It has to match, right!?” 

“No, ma’am. I’m deeply sorry but it's against our policy to accept them on the day of expiration. Yesterday would have made the cutoff point, as the expiration is on this date.” I hear an attendant supply back to a very irate my mother.

“Unbelievable! It's the very day marked ON the card!” She stresses again, like it changes the outcome. “That should mean today! I can use it today! It's on the card!” From here I can only see her back but by the way her arm is raised, I can see her thrusting some kind of small paper towards a nervous attendant. It looks to be some kind of coupon. Oh, great. She’s harassing customer service again. Trying to score them out of probably no more than ten dollars in total.

Instantly forgetting my nervousness and the phantom tap on my shoulder, I return my gaze to the tub of hand lotions. No one is watching with that commotion  going on.

I grab one and slide it up my sleeve in one motion, looking as though I was just inspecting one as another slid out of sight. Score~

Feigning an inspection, I set the second hand lotion down and turned to cross the boundary between the two mall shops. No one will miss this. So what's going on here?

“Oh, JoJo, come here.” My mother beckons me over. “Look at this! Look at what they’re doing to me!” 

“Ma’am, we aren’t doing anything to-”

“They’re trying to rip me off of my money! This date is printed right here on this card, and this date is today and they won’t let me use it!” She explains to me, waving her hands up and down and making a show. I don’t really know how to respond to this.

“Oh, wow.” I said back to her with my eyebrows raised. “Why won’t they let you use it?”

“I don’t know! It's insufferable! I absolutely cannot believe this!” She turns away from me and faces back towards the three attendants.  “They’re scamming me out of- I want to see the manager!” 

“We’re not going to call the-” The attendant at the register begins, but then my mothers stance changes, and she puts her hand into her pocket. As though she was reaching for a gun or something! But I know she wouldn’t take one to a mall, and my mother doesn’t conceal carry in the first place, so stuffing her hand in her pocket seems out of place.

“Bring the manager!” She shouts. The attendant just frowns, looking supremely pissed off.

“Fine, lady! We’ll call the manager down just so he can tell you the same exact thing! We won’t accept it- oh whatever. Who cares about policy, right?” She trails off and goes for a small black wired phone connected to the main desk. “I’m just the cashier, I know  nothing at all.”

“Yeah, that's right.” My mom mumbles right back which causes the cashier to glare at her for a moment before dialing a number on the phone and calling briefly for a manager to come to this floor of the mall. 

We spend the next five or so minutes waiting as no one exchanges a single remark under the quiet rumbling of mall life. Families walk past the edges of the store, one customer coming in and whisking one of the three attendants off for a purchase. I can hear my mother angrily tapping her shoe against the floor.

Finally, some balding man with a red dress shirt and obnoxiously neon green necktie comes bouncing in with a corporate happy pep in his step. “Hellooooo!” The man greets happily, like this is just a jolly good day. His eyes seem kinda glazed over. Distant. Like he's not really paying any attention at all. Or like he's drunk… High… Something along those lines. He’s obviously impaired, but his voice betrays none of his empty headedness. “What can I be of help with?”

“This lady won’t believe me when I tell her-”

“They won't let me use my discount! I want to use my discount!” My mom yowls loudly enough to overpower the voice of the attendant. The way she has turned emphasizes the side of her with her hand in her pocket.

“It's yours!” The manager says. “I clear the coupon!”

“Wait, what!?” The cashier exclaims. Wow, I was sure he would have said no after hearing the reason why it was denied. “But they expire-” Once again cut off, but this time by the manager.

“She can have it all! The coupon is cleared! Let's get this done!” The manager says and happily walks over to behind the register, taking the card straight out of my mothers outstretched hand and punching in the appropriate discounted price in the machine. It cuts a total of thirty dollars off her purchase, which is honestly an insane amount. Seems that the coupon was half off. Wow, what a steal!

My mom jerkily pulls her hand out of her pocket, showing her having been holding her wallet the entire time. She snaps the thing open and pulls out the appropriate amount of cash, slamming the wad of cash down onto the table in a huff. “Finally. I have places to be, you know.”

“Of couuuurse ma’am. Have a wonderful day~” The manger sings as he gives a receipt to my mother. She snags it and turns to leave in a hurry, putting her hand on my shoulder and taking me away. Pulling me and dragging me out of the shop.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” My mom says brashly or frustratedly, mirroring a similar state that I’ve seen her in many times before. “I didn’t like the smug look on that manager's face anyway!”

“Me either!” I sing back to her as we vacate the area. “He looked like he was drunk or something.”

“Yeah.” My mom replies coldly. “Now, come on.” She takes me, bunching a part of my shirt in her white knuckled grip and pulls me so hard I thought it might tear. 

When she pulls me out of the store, I get this awful feeling of eyes on my back. Like someone was watching me. The manager, the ire of the cashiers, whoever. I can’t tell but the feeling just crawls over my back. Whoever is looking at me has nothing but contempt. I couldn’t say why. But it's an easy enough feeling to brush off as made up. I’m just imagining it, I tell myself.

Off we go towards some space in between a few mall shops. There's a small, dark corridor that seems to be for mall staff only, but my mom pulls us through it right up until a big locked door. She looks supremely angry. At what, I'm not really sure yet.

Right up against the door, my mother corners me with my back to the wall. She has this growing face of anger that slowly takes over her whole face, turning it a shade of red. She puts her hand out flat, as though waiting for an offering. “Give it.” She growls, low and deep. “Hand it over. NOW!”

I panic, my heart rate skyrockets. “Wh-what!?”

“Hand over whatever you pulled out of that bowl, jojo! Don’t think I don’t notice when you do things!” She barks at me. Hard enough to send a shock of fear-in-headlights all the way up my spine.

“Whahaat?” I have no idea what she is saying right now. Her sudden switch from pulling me away to utter disgust and rage caught me entirely off guard. The words she is saying enter my ears.

But I do not hear them.

“NOW!!!!” She screams in my face.

My body reacts before I do, shaking my arms and dropping out the tiny 4 ounce bottle of hand lotion. It falls from my sleeve and lands perfectly in the open palmed hand of my mother. She grips it instantly, not breaking her interrogative eye contact with me for even a millisecond. Her hand crushes the bottle so hard I’m surprised it doesn't explode all over the wall. 

“Hand lotion.” She says, a comment not a question. “Were you hiding this from me because it's girly?” 

“H-huh? No! Just because it- It was… It was ten dollars, I didn't want to pay ten dollars for something so small… I didn’t think anyone would notice!” Scramble scramble scramble scramble! Not this topic! Not this topic! Not this topic!

“Yeah. Sure that's the reason, JoJo. You’re my son, you know. I know you better than this.” She uses her other hand to grip the bridge between her nose and forehead. As though she has a sudden headache. “Sometimes you really, really disgust me.” 

My heart jumps into my throat and my blood runs entirely cold. I- I disgust her? I’m disgusting??

My hands slowly crawl up to my face, covering my eyes in shame. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me… I didn’t think it would be a big deal.”

“Stealing is always a big deal!” My mom barks at me. “It's against the law for a reason! When did I teach you to be this morally bankrupt!?” 

“I'm sorry I'm sorry! I swear it was an accident!!”

“It better be.” My mother turns from me and storms off. Her boots clack against the floor as she makes a show of staring at me over her shoulder. She walks all the way over to a mall trash can and drops the lotion inside all while glaring at me the entire duration. Not even taking it back to the store it came from. A declaration that the item is tainted by virtue and thus not allowed for ANYONE to have it, let alone me. 

And I feel horrible! What was I thinking!? It's like I have no self control! Even the slightest bit of thrill makes me lose all my moral values in an instant. What is wrong with me! I should be ashamed of this!! I feel like I've been made into a middle schooler again. Needing to be taught basic adult rules because I clearly cannot understand them myself. Wow, I'm an idiot. 

Guilt and anxiety merge together in my stomach and make me feel absolutely sick. It honestly kind of hurts. Lesson learned, with a sharp jab of anger and disappointment in my stomach. 

“You know that if you were to really want something, I would give it to you. So really, you chose this one. Now come on!” My mother shouts out to me, beckoning me out from the shadowed hallway and back into the crowded spaces. Suddenly it feels as though I'm being watched. More than usual, from every direction. Panic starts to slowly build as I cross my way back to my mother's side. She begins to lecture me once again. “I thought you dropped that habit of yours after high-school.” She puts her arms out in the display of grandiose shock, Supreme disappointment. “Who knew! Who knew your mistakes would be non stop!?  I sure didn't!! But I hope you learned your lesson today. I want you to know that I'm not mad.” She's clearly mad. “But I am frustrated with your behavior. Like, Jojo, what if someone saw you doing that who wasn't me?” I'm pretty good at this stuff, no one would have seen me. “How do you think that would reflect onto me as your mother? Poorly.” She says. “Very poorly. Do not taint my image to the masses. Please, child. I'm begging you.” She looks me dead in the eyes with this face full of genuine pleading.

I frantically nod my head back to her. “Okay, okay! It won't happen again!”

“Good. Now I'm taking you to the barbers before we get your clothes. Your hair has been growing way faster than usual lately and I don't want no one mistaking my son for a girl. Do you get that?”

“Yes, I get it!” It's better to just fawn than disagree.

“Even better.” She reaches out and takes my hand, all the anger from a moment ago seems entirely gone from her body now. Like it wasn't even there to begin with. “Damn your hair has been getting long though. It's like somebody cast a spell on it. Have you been getting into my hair growth supplements again?”

“No, I don't like those ones.” I comment back. Only pretending to be paying attention to reality as a toxic war of self hate rages on inside of me. 

“That's what I thought.” She hums. “Must just be a growth spurt then.”

This catches me. “On… my hair?”

My mother laughs out loud before shrugging with her other free arm. “I don't know! I'm not no scientist!”

…

…

…

Now I'm sitting down in a mall barber shop chair with a hair catching cape draped across my shoulders as my mother rattles off some overly complex order to be done with my hair. At first she told me I could pick my hairstyle this time, but what that really meant is that she would stand there the entire time making little snippy comments about the entire procedure, for the entire procedure.

“Here.” She directs the barber to some place on the side of my head. “It's still too long here. I keep telling you, he can't be mistaken for a girl.”

“Ma'am, I don't think that's going to happen at this rate. I keep asking you, do you want me to shave this part down or not?” 

“No… no…. Just use the scissors. He would look ugly like that. I’m really trying to make something presentable out of him with this.” My mother comments monotonely. The way she's insinuating it implies that I wasn’t anywhere near ‘presentable’ enough for her, that I was ugly, and she doesn’t want an ugly son. I just know it. I can feel her intention underbaked even beneath her words. It's her way of getting back at me for things while we’re in public and she can’t outright shame me.

“Sure, okay.” The barber replies and continues his work. It's incredibly slow and methodical. Mainly because he keeps having to stop and make corrections as my mother rattles off another list of commands.  I'm just glad I'm not facing the mirror right now. Getting my hair cut always gives me this horrible feeling of anxiety. It's my least favorite thing to do. I prefer the dentist or the doctors over this any day.

This charade goes on for another good fifteen minutes or so before my mom is finally done giving ‘advice’ on how to cut my hair properly. By the end of it, my fluffy shoulder length hair has been cut down by at least two thirds. I can tell simply by how I can no longer feel it even touching my ears. The cool mall air brushes across newly sensitive skin, now exposed and no longer hidden by my hair. I feel suddenly naked. Reduced. Stripped of some kind of protection and made vulnerable. That feeling of being watched only intensifies from here. That lingering sense of dread that never seems to go away.  Always just constantly building. Ominous and impending. 

“Alright, that seems to be it?” The barber asks, taking my chair and swiveling it back towards the way of the mirror. I would be in view by now. 

“Yes! Wonderful final product!” My mother claps her hands together and sings. “He’s looking amazing! What do you think, son?” 

“Great, it looks great haha…” I answer, trying to make it subtle that I’ve been refusing to even look at myself this entire time. I know better than to look at a new haircut. I always hate it the very most right when it gets done. I can grow into it with time, even if it's as terribly short as this one would be. But right now, I can’t take it. So my eyes just slide off the mirror entirely, not lingering directly on it enough to soak in any of the details. All I make sure to really pay attention to is my shiny, icy blue eyes. The only part of me I actually like.

“Tha-” My voice cracks so I clear my throat. “Thanks.”

“Oh, sound more enthusiastic than that! This is going to impress your new lady!” My mother attempts to cheer for me. “You don’t sound too impressed with it, JoJo! Is there any more places you think we should cut?” 

I couldn’t possibly stand going any shorter than this. I’ve only ever liked my hair when it was long enough to at least cover my ears. Just the style looked better, or I liked the way it felt over my ears or something. Now it just feels as though another piece of armor has been stripped away from me. For my own good, I guess.

“No, it looks good mom, thank you!” What I can’t make up with in tone I try to make up with in volume. Loudly speaking so she hopefully believes that I actually like it. 

“Eduardo!” My mother calls for the barber’s attention. “You seem like the type to be good with the ladies. You’re handsome, well spoken, and running a job like this with no extra help. I’m sure you can get any girl you want, can’t you?”

Mother!? What are you implying!?

“Uh, thanks?” He replies with, confused. He looks almost dumbfounded. But then it seems to dawn on him how he wants to behave, pulling a kind of face when he picks up on something I desperately do not wish to. 

“Do tell me, do you think my lovely son here has a chance of wooing a  girl with a cut like this?” She leans over towards him and bats her eyelids. “Since you’re just an expert and all?” 

“Sure does. I think he could pick up and wow any chick he came across if he wanted to.” Eduardo the Barber comments back, making a sultry voice. All of the sudden I feel actually sick. But he goes on. “Trust me, I would know.” He purrs at the end, emphasizing his accent. 

I hate this! Is she trying to embarrass me!?!?!?!

“Well well, that’s just what I needed to hear.” My mother replies back in an entirely different tone from before, clearing the sultriness out of her voice entirely and attempting to usher me out of my seat with great haste. “And with that settled, we’re ready to pay.” 

“Oh… Uh, yeah.” Eduardo responds, looking disappointed.

…

With all the hair brushed off and the cape taken away, I find myself standing at the cash register beside my mom. Or, more like slightly hidden behind my mom, awkwardly and silently staring at a corner of the till as they make conversation I’m not paying much attention to. Some moments later, we’re done. My mother takes her card back as well as her receipt. There's a second number written on the front in pen, and it looks to be someone’s phone number. Written over part of the front of the receipt.

I’m pretty sure my mother just thanks him, takes her stuff, and leaves. Because next I find myself walking behind her as we trail off towards the next destination. Not able to stop for any more moments at all for recovery. Nope. Just going. And honestly I’m kind of glad? I think if I have to sit still any longer I might actually implode. All the feelings of eyes crawling over me and judging me still accompany me as we walk towards some kind of clothing store. During the short walk there, my mother locates a garbage can and throws the receipt away. Guess their conversation didn't mean much.

Now only a blink of time later and we've made it to the next destination.  Moving along at snapshot speed. Hooray! Onto even better heights! 

Going to be forced to change fifty times in and out of uncomfortable clothes! In public! My fucking favorite!!!! 

There's a chime as we cross the threshold of the large arched marble entrance. Big black letters on the front of the store display ‘American Eagle,’ with each letter lined with rows and rows of lightbulbs. All glowing the same amber hue. My mother gasps as she enters the store, hurrying off in front of me towards a display section that she’s had her eyes on since long before we even entered the store. Some kind of sale she’s been looking forward to or something. I have no idea how she even keeps track of all this stuff. 

“Oh, I thought it ended today! Hooray!” She says, doing a little dance before darting off towards a basket of clothes. I just kinda silently follow after her, letting her lead the way in these kinds of situations always seems like the best course of action. 

When we arrive at the large basket, my mom starts digging in like a mad woman. Happily gasping and   It's full of a bunch of pairs of clearance pants. They're bright tie dye pants with crazy rainbow colors that I, quite frankly, think look pretty tacky. But unpredictable random bullshit is exactly what my mom is in for. If she likes tie dye pants today, then she likes tie dye pants today. 

…

My mother has somehow always been deeply into fashion in her time off, but in recent years she's slowed down quite a ton. She tells me that being a mother and working a full time job has eaten all her time up from her old hobbies. It used to make her feel so happy, and seeing how she's been in the years since she's started to give up, it's clear just how much joy getting to be herself was giving her.  I feel really guilty about that because she can honestly do it quite well when she puts in the effort, and I hate being part of the reason she can't engage with her old passions. But especially her fashion. Despite everything, I do truly believe that she deserves to be happy. And I want her to be happy, too.

But…

I've always been incredibly jealous of her ability to look confident and important in any outfit she wears. Like she's supposed to be wearing it. She has this uncanny ability to constantly change her style yet always puts together something fully perfectly themed. All the way down to buying random sets of makeup that have strange colors on them that she might use later. Crazy, unpredictable things like that, but it always works. Like today she's wearing this fire red leather jacket,  a black shirt underneath with a graphic from one of her favorite bands, and a pair of black pants with a big black belt hanging off… Her long brown hair is done up in a bun with a red bandanna tied through it and she's put on her favorite pair of bright red cartoon sunglasses. The ones with those thick frames. Looking straight out of an atomic age space cartoon. She looks intimidating and serious but flashy and styled today. I just wish I wasn't the one so intimidated!

Meanwhile I feel like I look like shit, basically literally all of the time. I don't think I've ever worn an outfit I've actually liked wearing. Nothing but sweatpants and hoodies. But that's purely for their comfort, not style. Never style. Even standing here in a long sleeve shirt and jeans feels strangely wrong to me. Without an extra hoodie on I feel distantly bare. Stripped down, with less armor.  And this haircut feels awful too. New styles for me always just open up new avenues to be insecure from. More eyes seeing what about me has changed. I'd rather just not be seen at all. If I had the chance to turn invisible, I would take it. 

But my mother, on the other hand, has already picked two separate pairs from the basket, and has now begun to march off towards a new location. As I begin to follow behind her I recognize just the extent of my envy. I wish I could be as confident as she is. I wish I could do all the things I've wanted to, just like she can. Like wearing nice clothes and talking down to the people around me. Her confidence and her looks can get her almost anything she wants from anyone else around her.  Wouldn't that be fun, if I could do that too.  No, I just get to be anxious all of the time instead.  What a fair roll this is. 

“So shoo!” I hear someone say out of the edges of my perception. “Git!”

“Huh?” I zone back into the world around me. Wow, I feel terrible and it keeps eating my ability to pay attention. “What did you say?”

It was my mother who was talking to me. “I said shoo! I'm gonna be over here picking out a nice new outfit for me, so why don't you run along and pick one out for yourself as well? Now's your opportunity to prove to me that you know how to dress yourself, and that you don't need mommy to dress you every single day. Go and find something nice and I’ll tell you whether or not you can wear it later to see your new girl.” 

I don't need- I'm twenty! I never asked her to dress me! Why is she always treating me like a child! She's not even going to like anything I pick out! “Fine, but she's not ‘my girl.’ We barely know each other!” 

“I said shoo, JoJo, don't make me repeat myself.” Mothers tone draws thin. Its clear she’s not going to negotiate on this. 

“Fine, fine! I’m going!” I turn and storm off. As I walk away, I hear her comment something about my tone of voice. How I shouldn't be back-talking her.  Honestly, she's right. I've been on thin ice today and I really don't want to keep pressing my luck. If she wants me to find something I really like, then I'll find something I really like. 

…

Seems like there are two floors to this gigantic store. The first floor is full of seasonal options for all ages,  and the second floor is full of assorted styles and mix match wear. Well, normally I would almost always go for the seasonal options because it's just about winter right now and I love hoodies…. But I think I should really branch out a little bit today. Mom is making me try a whole new look right now, and as much as I fucking hate it, maybe I should have at least a small hand in what I wear. I've always been envious of her style… So maybe now's the time to develop my own?

I head off towards the escalators at the center of the store and take their slow journey up to the next floor above. The gap between the first floor and the second floor is only as wide as it needs to be to fit the escalators through. Otherwise, all the way around me is pretty much a pure tunnel of white textured building material. Something that looks like the ‘popcorn’ ceilings in old houses.  But upon reaching the top, a peer down towards where my mother would be on the first floor reveals that… Well actually it doesn't reveal anything. I can't see her at all.  She's behind where one portion of the tunnel wall is, and I doubt that anyone at all would be able to see me up here unless they either stood at the very base or came all the way up looking for me. Doesn't that mean…

…I'm alone? For once today, for just a minute, I'm alone? 

“Hello, let me know if you need help finding anything~” A store attendant calls out from some row off behind me, nearly shattering me on the spot with a mix of startle and embarrassment. 

Duh! Of course there's attendants here! What the hell were you thinking!

I turn around slowly,  scanning for the voice I heard. “Okay, thank you!” I called back out to where I thought I heard the woman's voice. But I don't seem to find anyone. Like, it genuinely does look like I'm entirely alone up here but clearly I shouldn't be because I just heard that voice.  There are rows and rows of clothing stands and racks and bins and baskets and a bunch of other shit  absolutely everywhere up here. All labeled from top to bottom with clearances and sales, like they're absolutely just dying to get rid of all these clothes as fast as possible. Purposely and deliberately marked down to less value than they should be. Labeled as lesser and shown off as something not even barely worth a percentage of full price. I feel like that should remind me of something, but honestly, that's just marketing isn't it? Well, anyways,  another quick scan of the area continues to reveal absolutely no one.  Wherever that attendant must be, she's clearly just hiding out of sight. 

Theres even a customer service desk up here with a register and chair but the whole station is empty.

Well, who cares then. 

I begin my journey down each aisle. Seriously considering the items I pass one by one,  but nothing really seems to jump out at me. Nothing catches my attention, not for minutes at a time while I scan over every little place.  

Every once in a while, something interesting emerges and I quickly check the whole item. But then I'm, again and again, sorely disappointed when it's labeled ‘for women.’ Why! Every time! Can't something stylish be given to boys for once!? What the hell is this, a yard sale!?

Over and over again,  I keep scanning what I think is going to be a nice catch just to lose my hope when it isn't for someone like me. Urgh. Frustrating. 

All the way up until I find it. A lovely, lively, beautiful bright pink hoodie/sweatshirt with decorative images of butterflies all over it. And it says for boys! So I can have this one!! Mom can't tell me no this time, because it says it's for boys! Right there on the label! Ages and sizes on the men's scale! Finally, finally! Something I actually want to wear!

Triumphantly, I rip the hoodie from the rack. While being careful not to damage the label, of course, because that will be important in just a moment. And march back towards the center of the second floor where the escalators are. But just as I reach them,  I get this feeling of an ice cold gaze sliding up my back. Pure and utter contempt for my very being,  absolutely nailing me from behind. (Woah, not like that.) This feeling is actually extremely creepy, and mirrors the same feeling when I left the scents store with my mother. I get the vibe that someone is looking at me, and they absolutely hate my guts. Well, who could honestly blame them for that, really. I'm barely worth the ground I walk on anyway. 

A glance over my shoulder reveals nothing once more. Nothing at all, and nobody there. The feeling still persists, however,  even as I slide just out of sight on the escalators. But the feeling slides away as I get further from the top floor. 

A stray chill runs down my spine as I step off the escalator. Geez, that was creepy. Well, onward and upwards I guess. 

…

…

…

“No! Absolutely not!” My mother jerks out the very instant she sees the item I'm holding. “No one will catch my son wearing something as flamboyant and girly as that around town. No way!”

“But- but mom it says it's for boys!” I try to explain.  “It says it's for boys, that means I can have it, right!?” I plead with her, my tone raising a few pitches subconsciously.

“No the hell it does not! That must've been a misprint! There's no way they're selling something like that to men in a respected establishment like this! That would be stupid!” My mother cuts back with the very same tone.

Respected establishment? What, a ‘Forever Thirty One?’ That's your definition of a respected establishment? Really?

“Go put it back, I'm not getting you that!” My mom commands me. I almost drop the hoodie right there and storm off,  only barely holding in the urge to leave. 

“But-” I try one more time and I'm almost instantly cut off. 

“No buts, mister! You go put that back in the girl's section where you found it! And make it quick! I already have a few sets of clothes I picked out for you waiting right here. Since you took so damn long to get back here.” My mother crosses her arms sternly and stares at me. I just stare back in anger. “Well? Go!” She yells at me again and I snap out of it. Suddenly able to move once again. 

“Fine!” I turn and leave. Quickly storming off back towards the escalators as guilt and shame start to overpower me. I don't even attempt to wait for the thing to carry me. I don't have the patience for that right now. Instead I keep taking steps up along the escalator while it's moving. Not really paying full attention as a storm rages inside of me. Silent to everyone in the world except my mind. 

Duh! What was I fucking thinking!? Of course she would hate something like that! Really, pink with fucking butterflies and flowers on it!? Am I a toddler!? She would never accept something like that! Never ever never never!!! It's my fucking fault for even trying with her. I should've known better. I really should have known better. Stupid, stupid boy! God, i feel disgusting like this! Why couldn't I have just been lucky enough to be born as a girl? Then all my problems would be fixed!! No,  i have to- 

I walked straight into a clothing rack. The whole thing goes spilling down around me, pouring clothes absolutely everywhere.

Shit!!!!!!! I wasn't paying attention at all!!!! I made it to the top floor and kept on walking forward without even noticing! Now there's shit everywhere!!!

Fear lights through my veins as I scramble to arrange the mess I just made on the floor.  Nice going nice going nice going!!!!

“Hey! You! Did you just spill that entire rack?” Someone calls out, having stepped up just behind me without my notice. 

A small,  impish squeak of a scream comes tumbling out of my lips as I stand up entirely rigid. “U- uh- uh um u- n, no? I mean yes! Yes, yes, I'm sorry!!” I turn around and clasp my hands together in a sign of submission. “I'm cleaning it up right now I swear! I swear!! I won't leave a mess, mom!!” There's a total haze over my eyes and a distant but fearful feeling in my veins that gets suddenly washed away in confusion as the lady in front of me bursts out into laughter. 

“Wha- whahhat??” I mumble in confusion. “I- I'm sorry?” 

“Gahahaha! Hahaha,  no way!” The lady keeps laughing and laughing. “No way you just called me mom!” 

My face goes bright red and my mouth clamps shut.  I don't dare say a word until the lady speaks next.  

“No wayyyyy hahaha! It's been a long while since someone's called me that outside of a bedroom! That's hilarious! Ah,  what the hell is wrong with you anyway, kid.” The store attendant woman goes to wipe a tear from her eyes. She was laughing at me so hard she had begun to cry. I feel ashamed, so ashamed. “You do realize that any mess you make, I'm gonna be the one to clean it up for you right?” 

“Oh, oh!” I snap out of it, again, and begin to quickly try to clean the shirts up. Grabbing one after another in a bunch and trying to quickly clip them to the metal bar. But one or two start to slip out of my hands as I'm scrambling, falling back to the floor with a quiet thump. 

“Woah woah, hey slow down there bucko.” The lady quickly reaches out and snatches the clothes from my hands.  “That wasn't me trying to say that you need to help. Just that I'm the one to clean this up. You don't need to do none of this for me, you know. I get paid to clean this stuff up.”

“Oh,  wahahaha- okay okay okay.” I mumble and make an obnoxiously nervous fake laugh.  “Okay well, okay, well, okay,  I'll just help you with this anyway. Okay?”

“Sure.” She says acceptingly. “I'm not gonna stop you if you feel the need to.”

“ThaAnks.” My voice cracks in the middle of the word.  I quickly try to do my best to help clean up the mess.  It gets finished pretty fast with the two of us there picking it up together.  Only a moment or so later and we’ve finished. The rack is all set up now and everything seems fine. 

“Well thanks for the help young man. You sure didn’t have to do that but it's welcomed! Now, do you need any help finding anything?” The lady asks me. I finally find the nametag on her shirt, indicating her name is Lauren. 

“Um, no but thank you ms. Lauren.” I replied back as politely as I could, trying not to showcase how embarrassed I am for losing myself like that. 

“Oh how polite you are!” She congratulates me. “Well, I suppose that’ll be all then huh?” 

“Yep.”  My reply is short and awkward. 

The lady just smiles and turns around, starting to head off in the other direction back to wherever she goes. I hear her mumbling something about how she wishes she was still my age and not stuck at this dead end job. 

But then something strange happens. 

As Lauren  is walking away, a shadow of something moves across the floor out from beneath one of the racks. Or at least it almost appeared to, but I didn't catch whatever was making the shape. Like a rat or something, but I just didn’t catch what it was. Strange, but stranger was the way Lauren went rigid as the speck of movement touched her shoe. Her back went straight and she almost stumbled for a moment, losing her footing or catching her shoe against the floor or something odd like that. Just a momentary misstep, but she held in place for a few moments longer before making a hard right turn. It didn’t look like that was the path she was originally taking, but nonetheless she turned and hurried straight out a door at the back of the shop. Not turning to face me or glance at me even once as she books it right out the door. Gone and out of sight. Strange, but not weird enough to really make me go out of my way to find out what was happening. Maybe she just remembered something important and left to go get it. But that leaves me up here entirely alone and entirely out of sight. Worst of all, that lingering feeling of dread has refused to go away. Even when entirely out of company. 

Well, no matter. I need to find where this hoodie goes, anyway. I have to return it. 

Though, starting to walk around up here with all the other clothes makes me want to wander towards other sections of the floor. Even with that lurking feeling, I want to make use of the smallest bit of alone time to look at styles of clothing I normally wouldn’t be allowed to wear. I know it's wrong for me to do this, or to even want this at all, but I can’t help but find myself lurking through the girl’s department. The full range of colors and styles on display here are nothing short of jaw dropping. The kinds of things they sell to women at this store are utterly mesmerizing. Red dresses, blue womens cut jeans, black stylish jackets with no pockets, they have everything! So much beautiful variety and I’m allowed to wear absolutely none of it! Its heart wrenching and exhilarating at the very same time. Simply fantasizing what I would look like in one of these outfits, had I been born just a bit luckier. 

Oh, but I haven't. It’s wrong for me to even step foot in this section of the store. I shouldn’t even want to be over here in the slightest. But something about it just calls to me, and I hate that I even think about answering that call at all. Well, whatever! I’m just looking so it should be fine anyway!

Until a nice yellow sundress pops out of the corner of my eye and drags me to it by the nose. A beautiful piece of fabric with these puffed out shoulders and riveting ruffles down the skirt of the dress. Immediately, my mind lights up with pictures. But it's quickly shut down with the realization that I would look terrible in any of these. Obviously. But I still keep standing here and staring at it with this aching feeling I can’t quite place. Until something locks in, and I remember a girl that this dress would look positively lovely on.

That being none other than Valerie Valentine. With her golden blonde hair and darling green eyes, she would look gorgeous in a dress like this.

!!!

Valerie!!!  I shake myself in place. I hadn’t even thought about her at all today! Everything was so hectic that it kept me way too distracted to even process the things that had happened just the day before!  All the memory of the day we spent together yesterday comes crashing back at once. The motor ride, the tent, the forest, the the- The promise! I told her I would see her today! But I’m here, standing around and perving in the mall! What would she think of me if she saw me here right now! She would think I was some kind of creep, thinking about how nice she’d look in this dress in front of me! God, what the hell was I thinking! 

Clutching the hoodie in my hand, I ignore the rest of my thoughts and feelings to instead march away from where I’m standing. All the way back to where I found the hoodie in the first place. Some random patch of clothes on the other side of the floor. Off in some secluded corner, hidden away like the lack of visibility would make my choice in apparel any less appalling. Just the thoughts alone make that feeling of being watched turn from a background burn to something scalding hot. It shouldn’t matter, though, as I reach the place I’m actually supposed to be a moment later.

But upon coming up to the place I got the hoodie from, I noticed something strange about the clothing rack where the item should go. Something just slightly off about the five legs of the long standing row of hoodies. Something like… An extra leg in the center of the rack. Peeking out from beneath the hem of several shirts. A dark, shadowed supporting post that I realize really shouldn’t be there. All the other racks only have four legs, one at each corner of the rectangle, but this one seems to have five. 

And that's when I noticed the lump at the very bottom of the extra post. Something oblong and vaguely foot shaped. 

It was a shoe. A single shoe, connected at the base of a long pitch black leg stretching up into the hoodies. Hidden away from sight and terminating entirely at the hem of the clothes. 

Just. One. Leg. 

A normal human being would poke out from behind the clothes, as the rack isn't that high up from the ground. Or that wide at all for that matter. Anyone would normally poke out from the sides and top. The only visual protection would be the size of a single hoodie And judging by the length of the silhouetted leg and shoe, this person would be quite large. But for some reason, whoevers hiding in the rack can’t be seen at all. 

“Rosegold?” I call out, hoping this presence is just my 『Stand』  playing tricks on me. But I get no response at all. 

A few steps closer and another glance reveals it to have started moving. A single step out towards the open air, like it noticed I was watching. Like it heard me speak. 

Slowly dangling down from the hem of the other hoodies, another shoe starts to worm out from the darkness and stretch down to touch the floor, making not a single sound. Slowly and haphazardly like the limp dangling leg of a shadowy corpse. 

Then little black fingers, wrapping around the shoulder of a hoodie, slowly creeping over the front and stretching out longer and longer and longer. A second hand slowly revealing after the first, pulling itself up and out of concealment. 

Two. Hollow. White. Eyes.  

Like little orbs of pearl, the two ‘eyes’ look at me in such a way that inspires nothing less than the most inhuman feeling of disgust and fear. This is the source of the hateful stare I've been feeling all day long, and it's followed me all the way here. Where I'm all alone. 

I dropped the hoodie I was holding on the floor, screamed, and ran away as fast as I could.

Scrambling across the carpeted clothing store floor, my frantic sprinting almost threw me down the escalators. Not even waiting for them to carry me down, I ran down the stairs as quickly as I possibly could, calling and shouting for my mother to come save me. 

“SOMETHINGS AFTER ME!!!” I screamed in the middle of the store, bursting down the stairs and running through the aisles to find my mom. I quickly locate her standing in front of the changing rooms, fiddling through her small pile of clothes on a little chair nearby. 

“Oh, jojo! I-” My mother begins, turning around to see me. But I cut her off by slamming straight into her, practically diving for her arms as fear and sweat runs down my face. “Woah! Whats going on!?” 

“HELP!!!! SOMETHING WAS CHASING ME!!!!” I cry into her arms, trying to bury myself deeper into a warm embrace. Seeking refuge against all the torment in the world. Internally and externally. A hug should help!

“What, what!? Whats after you, honey, whats going on!?” My mother frantically tries to shield me, turning us around with me in her arms to face the other way. “I've got you, honey, everything is gonna be okay! You're safe with me! What's going on? Someone was following you?”

“Yes!!” I cry out, nearly bursting into tears just thinking about it. My mother swings me around and immediately searches the area with her eyes, scanning for any dangers at all. She's got this evil glare on her face, just looking for anyone she can mess up in my name. 

“Oh, I’ve got you honey, it's gonna be okay! No one is chasing you. Trust me, if they were, I’d kill them.” She says firmly, holding me tightly and rubbing my arms. “Nothing is gonna get you, nothing at all. What did you see up there?”  She tries consoling me but I’m nearly inconsolable. 

“Uweeehhhhahhhh” I whine. “Scaryyyyyy!!!”

“Scary, scary? Oh, what's scary, honey??” My mother tries again, holding me tightly and keeping me from freaking out too hard. “What's scary my son?” 

“The shadow thing! Shadow thing! Upstairs!” That's about all I could get out without breaking down further, my eyes starting to sting. Weird, I've been so much more emotional lately. I don’t know whats gotten into me, I’m normally so ambivalent! But it doesn’t seem like mother is bothered by my recent outburst. In fact, she looks elated that I've come running to her side. Maybe she likes when i’m scared and helpless. 

“Somebody upstairs giving you trouble!? Why, I oughta teach him a lesson! Come on, JoJo, I’ll show you that when I’m around, there's nothing for my baby boy to be scared of!” My mother triumphantly calls out, taking me by the shoulders and thrusting me away from her. 

I detach and go wobbling over like “Woaoah!” Almost falling over and hitting the floor when she launches me away. Looks like she’s decided to go protector-mode. That means she doesn’t want me hugging her anymore, clearly. The warmth of the hug instantly dissipates and I find myself feeling cold as I almost entirely lose my balance. 

I barely catch myself and try to stand up straight while still shaking from fear.  My mother immediately raises her fist and starts off towards the escalators at the center of the floor. Seems like she has an angry vendetta against that thing already. But I'm still terrified, I have no idea what that thing was! What if mother isn't enough!?

No!!! Mother is always enough. She can conquer any fear. She's done it before, she can do it now!

God, I sure hope so…

 …

…

….

“Hello, hello?” My mother snaps her fingers in front of the dazed eyes of the store attendant. The same attendant I had seen just a few moments before has returned back to her place at the top of the escalators. Now sitting in the clerk’s position chair that I saw empty last time.  Wherever she left, she definitely came back.

But something seems different about her since the last moment I saw her leave. I just can't quite place my finger on what. Her body seems the same at a glance, but it's so strange and uncanny. Like something about her has invisibly changed behind the curtains. 

 “Hello, anybody home!?” My mother snaps her fingers again, breaking the daze of the attendant. 

“Oh my, excuse me miss. What can I do for you?” The attendant asks, her pupils focusing only slightly from the dazed and blown out look they had. Is she on drugs? Isn’t this the second time I’ve seen someone totally blitzed up today? They must be sharing something together back there in the spaces behind each store. 

“Well first, you can tell me if you saw anybody in dark clothes slinking around up here with my son! Second, I need you to point me to the section of the store where my son found that hoodie!”  My mom barks in her face, looking absolutely ferocious. “Unless it's been you that's messing with him! Then we've got a big problem!” She puts emphasis on her tone by leaning closer into the attendants personal space.  

“M-mom no, it, it wasn't the-” I try to stumble out an explanation that it wasn't the attendant.  That she merely helped me with a mess that I made before it all happened.  But I'm cut off first before I'm able to get anything out of my mouth that makes any sense. 

“Oh certainly not! I would never harm a useful patron! Why I don't believe I've ever seen your son before at all! I think I was just stocking shelves the whole time while the incident happened~” The store attendant sings to my mother in a carefree or happy tone. She didn’t sound like that the first time though. Her voice was more like that of an older woman who spent the last 20 years in a retail job. This seems less forced. More natural to her. Which is odd considering the encounter we just had. 

“Oh, well then problem solved! Point me to where it happened!” My mom shouts, slamming her palms against the flat table surface of the desk. She looks so ready to destroy anything and anyone in her way. She looks ready to actually help me for once. It puts my anxieties to rest just a little more. She isn’t mad at me when she’s like this. It's freeing, almost. I don’t even think to mention the clerk's odd behavior. I don't care enough to attempt to diffuse the situation any further. 

Lauren just smirks and raises a dangling wrist to point towards the corner of the store where I saw it in. There’s even still a pink hoodie sitting crumpled on the floor that I can see beneath all the racks of clothes. That's definitely where it was!

My mother immediately turns left and trudges off towards that direction without a single question, leaving me behind to make a show of stalking each row. This floor isn’t as large as the first floor of the clothing store but it's still big enough to put her out of sight when she gets to the row I saw it at. 

As she’s going from row to row, something tugs at my perception just off to my right. Where the shop worker is sitting. Something… damp? My interest is pulled pretty much immediately. 

My vision tracks back to the lady sitting in front of me and directly onto a little red spot on the front of her work shirt. It's a dark green uniform with blue accents, making the red dot hard to see but that's not how I noticed it. The tickle of my senses was telltale and easy to recognize. 

That's a droplet of fresh blood. 

The sensation is unmistakable. A little thread of attention naturally drawn to that very spot. And just a moment later, a second droplet appears right next to the first. 

“You know it's rude to stare at a woman's chest like that.” The lady says suddenly, her tone taking a deep and angry tone. It's a very quiet remark but the intensity it carries is unparalleled. 

It startles me, making me gasp in surprise and look up to meet her utterly dead gaze. The way she leaned forward over the desk to creep into my personal space has me just as deeply unsettled. My eyes darted to her nose instead, which is  already starting to marble another little drop of red. When it falls, it misses the desk just slightly, falling out of sight to the floor beneath the chair. I can even sense the redness spreading into the threads of the carpet.

“Uh, I'm sorry!” Is all I can get out in my nervous confusion. Something is going wrong here, I can just tell. “Is your nose okay…..?” I try to ask her. 

But all I'm answered with is a deadpan stare and dead silence. She doesn't even waste the air it would take to reply to me. Her mouth hangs slightly open as though she had simply forgotten to close it.  It's just at this moment that I realize something has been missing from her uniform this entire time. Her name tag. And for some reason the knowledge of that fact has been in the unbroken stare she's been giving me. Once again, I'm at too much of a loss to mention it. Utterly bewildered in a situation like this. Lost in the heat of the hateful gaze I'm being put under. 

Is this some kind of cruel joke? After all day today? Feeling naked and alone and confronted with things I don't really understand. I feel insecurely out of my depth. 

Then she suddenly perks up back into a presentable smile when I hear the footsteps of my mothers return. “Did you find what you were looking for?” The attendant asks innocuously and with a simple but innocent smirk. 

“Yes, yes, I did.” My mother replies, placing a hand on my shoulder from behind me. 

Wait, she did!?

I turn to look up at her but the way she looking back at me just gives me this hopeless feeling inside. It's a look of pity.

“My son happens to have a very active imagination sometimes, and I believe he might have confused his fantasy for reality.” Wait what!? Mother suddenly doesn't believe me!? “There was nothing to be found in the whole area. We're both very sorry for wasting your time with such games.”

“My my, well it's absolutely no problem at all.” The attendant hums in a cheerful tune. “I'm just glad nobody got hurt.” 

“Yeah me too, now let's go Jojo, we have clothes to try on.” My mother ushers me away without a second more to consider the situation. I try to plead with her to slow down or possibly check again but she ignores me all the way back down to the changing rooms on the first floor. No amount of tugging or begging gets her to slow down for even a second.

…

…

…

“Do you know how embarrassing that was for me!?” My mother snaps the moment we get fully out of sight. Just the two of us on the first floor tucked away and gathering up the piles of clothes she had picked out. She's seemingly irate with me once again over something entirely unpredictable to me. “I walked around that whole floor searching from top to bottom for anything out of place at all! I was giving my signature glare the whole time and everything! But I didn't find anything at all up there. I must have looked like such a basket case, jojo. That store attendant probably thinks I've gone crazy! You know I told you to quit it with your make-believe years ago.”

That last line really gets me. “What?? But I wasn't- I actually saw something! I wasn't pretending!” 

“Yeah. Sure you did. That's why I found absolutely nothing after checking each and every row. I really thought you you were done with all that stuff once you grew up. Oh, how wrong I was!” She snaps, bunching up the rest of the clothes in her arms. She's red in the face and clearly very angry with me. But something about what shes saying really grabs at my attention once more. 

“Wait, wait, what do you mean anyway?? Do I have some kind of history with this stuff??” I ask her. My childhood memories are a little shot, so if she's got some stories about me from back then, I'd really like to hear them. 

My mother grits her teeth at me for a moment,  looking supremely irritated before drawing a deep breath and attempting to cool herself down.  It doesn't completely work all of the way, but it's enough to let her respond to me without trying to break my neck. “This is hardly the beginning with you. I was just hoping it would be the end.” 

“What do you mean this is hardly the beginning?” I plead her to go further. 

My mother blinks the frustration out of her eyes for a moment, steadying herself on her feet. It looks like she attempts to speak before ultimately quitting and starting again after another deep breath. Her eyes seem to get a little distant, a little glossy, she's trying to remember something pretty far back. “When you were younger… you used to have all these visions. See all these things that weren't there.  Your father and I always chocked it up to the active imagination of a growing child.  But he used to think it might have been something more. Something worse. Because what child constantly scares themself with their own imagination? You seemed to cool down on your problems after his death though, like the part of you that dealt with those problems died along with him. Sometimes I think some parts of me died too. Being in that home on that day…” My mother trails off at the end,  little twinkles reaching her glazed eyes.  She tries to cut herself off from her emotions before they quickly overwhelm her. 

“On what day, mom?” What day is she talking about… I wish I could remember…. I wish I could help her. 

But the glaze over her eyes fades instantly, entirely swept away again by momentarily forgotten anger. Her teeth start to grind together once again. “The day we got the news of his passing. Now get your ass in that changing room right now before I throw you in there! No more stalling!” 

“Ahh! Okay!!”

…

…

…

Stepping into the changing room reveals just how nice this one is. Surprisingly nice, actually. Carpeted floors, open space, and even a handlebar near a chair for ease of access. Quickly setting down my pile of clothes on the chair and taking a look around shows me just how spacious and clean this changing room is. It even has a closing and locking door instead of just a draw curtain. Such a relief, too. I would HATE to be walked in on while changing and curtain changing rooms make the worst protection. This enclosed room feels much safer. Though strangely enough there appears to be some kind of rectangular hole in one of the side walls. It's almost the size of my knees to my head and it appears to lead into a similarly identical room on the other side. Though only a quick glance reveals that, as other more pressing matters invade my mind. 

Particularly that for once today I am truly, actually alone. 

A deep breath in and a deep breath out attempts to get me steadied. Being alone and locked in here should make me feel safe, it should make me feel hidden. It should make me feel like the gazes of everyone outside have departed from me. I’m fully out of sight and away from everyone in the world. With nothing but the peacefulness of silence and nothing to jump out at me.

But it doesn’t help. Instead I feel worse.

The very same moment I stop and give time to my thoughts, all the negativity I've carried with me all day rushes up to get me. Just one single second touching the toxic pool that's been forming inside of me all day is enough to cripple me instantly. I can almost hear the heavy damage taken video death sound play as gravity pulls me down to my knees. 

I’m crushed, and my spirit is broken. I must have such a low tolerance for anxiety if I'm ruined after just one day. 

I feel as though I've been tormented in secret all day long. Like the world has just been playing one cruel trick on me after another. Again and again I'm surprised with something new and horrible to put onto my already full plate. It’s already reached well past the point of overflowing. I hate this feeling of constant failure. Constant embarrassment. Like no matter what choice out of any choice I'm making, it's the wrong one. Listening to my feelings and doing what I want gets me screamed at. Listening to my mother and doing as she asks me gets me nothing but the same. I feel like I've been put through test after test on my competency and failed almost every single one. Like I'm so stupid for not understanding the clear things in front of me. I’m not grown, I'm not anything more than a wreck. This feeling poisons everything around me. Even with the things I should be happy for, like a new haircut. Aren’t people supposed to like those? But even this just gives me a feeling of all pervasive anxiety. I’m being seen in a way that I don't want to be seen and it's nerve wracking! 

I swear I just can’t stand any of this any more. I can’t take being yelled at again or I'll explode. I can’t stand constantly being ridiculed or belittled for my every choice,  or I'll soon crumble  entirely. I feel like the further and further I've gone since just being yelled at this morning has been nothing but an extended punishment for my very being. I must have such awful karma to deserve this kind of torment. I must deserve this in some way. My choices yield terrible results every single time. The world can’t be the problem.

The problem must be me. 

I stole, I knocked clothes over, I picked stupid outfits, and I made stupid choices. And now I have to be seen in all sorts of clothes that I hate! I feel so uncomfortable, raw, naked, vulnerable and seen in ways I hate being seen. If only I could just turn invisible. 

Slowly sliding further to the floor, a speck of white dances across the corner of my vision. Something small and almost triangular. I try to pick myself up again but ultimately fail, I can't seem to build the willpower. So instead I strain my neck to look. 

Just at the bottom of the strange hole in the wall,  there's something small and white. Two somethings, in fact.  One right after another, placed just about an inch or two apart. And surprisingly they seem to move as I move to look at them better. Floating up and into view as I lift my head to look, at the same speed of my movement. They're pointy and a little damp looking. 

Are these…. teeth??? My teeth??? 

…

Knock knock knock

“Hey, hurry up in there! I want to see you in that first outfit!” My mother calls through the closed door. Her voice is thankfully pretty muffled but I could still hear her well enough to send my heart rate skyrocketing. My body stiffens on impulse and I drag myself up to my feet. The little pearly white triangles dance up and away in concession with my movement. 

Potently ignoring the strange hole in the wall,  I quickly try to stuff on a new pair of pants. The feeling of taking any of my clothing off in here feels like sand paper to my soul. I feel itchy and uncomfortable and like I'm being watched. Like some random stranger is going to come barging into the room at any minute to see me like this. I feel so gross and uncomfortable and raw. 

But the pants are on quickly enough to show to my mother when I next open the door.

Flipping the little locking latch, the door opens to reveal my mother looking at me with a raised eyebrow. “It took you ten whole minutes just to put on one pair of pants?” 

I panic inside a little. “So well um it's because these pants are too tight! It took me a while to fit them on!”

She eyes me over. “They look like they fit fine to me.” 

“They don't!!! They're actually too small, we're going to need to get another pair if I have to wear these!!” I feel like I'm being put on display. Horrible display just to be mocked at. 

My mother just makes some kind of acceptance hum and ushers me back into the stall to keep going. Taking me by the shoulders and shoving me backwards right in. I say ‘Woaoah!’ As the door slams shut right in front of me. 

Back into the stall, I fell into the chair with a groan. Rubbing across my face with my hands, I try to wipe away the memory of embarrassment that just happened. It proves futile, however. And my cheeks stay bright red. 

God, I feel like such a flop!

Slowly dragging my eyes up from the floor reveals something that almost makes my heart jump out of its place in my chest. Someone has come to sit in the other room! Sitting down in the identical chair across from me was a shadowed gray presence. For a moment, my blood ran entirely cold. Frozen solid in my veins as my mind screams ‘this was that monster!’ The one I had seen upstairs. Hard to distinguish any kinds of features at all, sitting in the chair and slouched in a mimicking mockery of my pose.  

Shooting upright from my chair, I nearly scream as the presence shoots upright as well. Fight or flight kicks in and I nearly bolt out the door in an instant, but someone's voice calls out to me to stop. 

“W-wait! Not yet!” A high pitched whining voice calls out to me. 

A chill runs down my spine and I slowly turn to face the…. Mirror? A glint off the corner of the reflective surface reveals it as such. 

The hole in the wall is not what I thought it was. It was a mirror, and standing directly in my place was none other than my stand. 

『Rose 

Gold.』 

My jaw dropped. 

“I- You- I- But-” I stumble over my words, slowly making my way across the small room over to the mirror. As I go, the ghostly doll girl follows my steps exactly. Backing away from the door and wandering over to meet me at the centerpoint between what I thought was two rooms. But was in fact, just a reflection of my own. With one key difference. 

I never showed up in the reflection. 

Not once.

Not now, either. My entire form has been replaced. What should have been me, simply, was not. 

“Are you gonna keep staring at me like that all day?” Rosegold giggles. “You know, they say it's rude to stare at a girl like that.”

I flushed. “Thats what- Thats what the other lady said! Are you playing some kind of prank on me!?!” My voice rages suddenly, full of pointed anger. All the frustrations of today come down upon me to aim directly into the mirror. 

“No?” She asks back confusedly, standing in an exact replica of my frustrated pose. “Why would I mess with you, 『User?』 ” 

“Because! I have been messed with all day long! In such bizarre ways!!! Like everything I'm doing was some kind of setup to have me fail! Now you're repeating things- I don't know!!! It doesn't matter, answer the question!” I bark at her, keeping my tone low but fierce. I'm angry, I don't even have a clear reason why,  I just am. Leaning forward further into her space, she leans forward just the same. Meeting me there. “Answer me!”

“Calm down, User! I don't really understand why you're blowing up at me all the sudden.” Rosegold tries to say in a reassuring tone. But this just makes me pop a gasket.

“Calm down!?!? Calm- how the hell can you possibly say that to me after the day I've had! Do you have any idea what I've gone through?” 

“Well no, but-” Rosegold starts.

“No! Exactly, you don’t!” My anger hits a certain tipping point, combusting up all at once and turning rapidly down into sorrow. “You weren’t there for me… You said you would be…. You said you wouldn’t keep leaving me…” All of it, everything. It all turns into sorrow. It all turns into pain. 

“User, User I'm sorry!” Rosegold scrambles to explain as I slowly melt onto the floor. She flows down to the ground with me, staying on my level. “User, I'm sorry I was gone.”

‘Why, why…. Why do you keep leaving me… why weren't you there today…” I mumble into my hands, voice full of emotion.

“I promise it was for a good reason.” She says. “I've been working on something that I think might help you.”

Something in me snaps. All that sadness I was feeling over being abandoned suddenly reverses course all at once, flowing backwards against the current, turning all back into rage. 

“What!” I snapped at her, looking up and seeing how close together we're sitting, just a few inches apart. Suddenly I hate the invasion of my personal space. “What the hell do you possibly think you can do to help me! I'm stuck here, Rosegold! I have so much more to do after this! So many more unpredictable ways for me to fail! I have to run around for the next few hours doing God knows what and getting yelled at in front of a bunch of people! I can't just disappear like you can!” 

Rosegold takes this barrage and hums. She listens to me vent my anger into her but doesn't come back with any insults of her own. Not like my mother would.

“I have a solution.” She meekly attempts again. “If you don't like being looked at…” 

“What. What the hell is it. Does it have anything to do with the way you STOLE my place in the mirror!?” I growl at her. “What are you even doing in there. Why can't I see myself? Am I just not worth it!? Worthy of the right to my own reflection!?”

“It does, actually.” She says. “It does have to do with this, yes. And User….. you are worth it.”

“What a joke.” I rebut her. “What a fucking joke. Give me my reflection back. I haven't even gotten to see my great new haircut yet.” I stress those few words with as much sarcasm as I can fit. I don't know why Rosegold has suddenly replaced me in the mirror, but the thought of it alone has started to make me uncomfortable. 

Where am I?

“Really?” She asks me. “Do you really want your reflection back that badly? Really really?”

“Yes!” I bark at her. “Yes, obviously I…” I started to trail off. It came to me in realization that what I was uncomfortable with wasn't that I couldn't see myself anymore. 

It was the thought of what might be waiting when I do. 

“... no… I take it back…. I don't actually want to see myself….”

“I thought that might be the case. You seem so uncomfortable in that body….” My stand says to me in a somber tone. Like she's actually sad over the fact that I hate myself. That I hate my very own skin. 

“Yeah, well, what am I supposed to do about that? I've never wanted to go to the gym. I've never wanted to get into guys' fashion. I can't do anything! I was just born to suffer in this body, I guess!” I start to spiral. My sense of self hatred for my own image has lasted me for so many years. Always there in the background burning away at me. Simply put, even being in the body I was born into just hurts. Like everything fucking else in my life. 

“I- User, I have a solution.” Rosegold repeats once again. “What if it didn't have to be you?” 

“What? What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 

“What if it didn't have to be you. In that body. What if I told you that it could be me instead. What if I told you that you could take a break for a little while, that you could disappear just like me.” She begins to explain. I get this opening feeling inside of me, the start of a black hole. Nervousness starts to tickle me. “What if I told you we could trade places?”

“H- how do you suppose we do that?” Were the only words I was able to find.

Rosegold stays thoughtful for a moment before continuing. “I haven't discovered a new ability or anything… but I've been practicing with this while I've been gone. I've been making preparations for you. I've been figuring out how to take the load off your back a little bit, like any good Stand should for their『User』 . I've figured out how to hide, but pull the strings at the same time.” For the first time since seeing her in this room, Rosegold moves in a way that doesn't match my reflection. It almost startles me. It almost makes me jump backwards and try to run away. But it doesn't. Instead it fills me with a sense of awe.

She stands up from the place we were sitting on the floor, and she reaches her hand down at me. Offering some kind of saving grace. Some kind of salvation from the world. “I can take the place you are in. I can separate you from the world for a little while. I can act as a barrier between you and the hurtful outside world. I can…” She trails off before restating her resolve. Her hand outstretched to me is an offering of help. “I can summon myself within you. I can do all the walking and talking and activities you still need to do today. I can give you a break, so long as you just trust me.”

“What are you… what are you suggesting?” I slowly pick myself up from the floor, hesitant to take her hand. “Are you suggesting, like, mind controlling me!?”

“I wouldn't put it like that.” She says. “More like just acting as a buffer. You could still call all the shots from behind the scenes.”

“You… promise?” I ask her hesitantly. “You promise to give me my place back when you're done?”

Rosegold smirks, once again offering her outstretched hand on the other side of the mirror. “Do you trust me?” She asks me. 

I swallow and try to weigh my options in my head. But I quickly came up short. I've been trashed all day long, and any longer I have to spend out there puts me so much closer to completely falling apart. I don't really have any other options, do I. I just have to trust. 

“Okay. I trust you. How do we do this-”

A gray hand comes crashing through the mirror, shattering the line between her and me.  It crushes its way into my space in a flurry of sudden motion, grabs me by the hand, and pulls me straight in. Right into the mirror. 

The sensation is like a hug. One not warm, but cold. 

(End Of Chapter Twelve)

← To Be Continued