You Weren't Wrong About Me

Standalone.

Like many automated objects and reactions, her automated responses were turned on and off by a button. In her mind she pictured it as a small black button at the base of her spine. Every time she spoke she imagined him pressing her little black button and the mere idea sent a pleasant shiver through her body.

"I don't mean to hurt you." Her voice was rather emotionless though her face held enough expression to make up for that. "But I have no other outlet. No one would listen. I need this. It makes me feel..."

The happiness in her voice sickened him. He stared at her with a cold glare, trying to break her, but it was almost as though she wasn't seeing him; as though she wasn't even paying attention to him. Though this wasn't a surprise... she was always somewhere else, in a place that he didn't dare venture into. He'd been there before but never... never again.

"Your intentions don't matter because you are hurting me. I will listen. Tell me. You don't need this. You don't deserve this. I want to help you."

Those words, as he knew they would, sent her into an angry frenzy.

"I don't need help."