Things that don'tmatter anymore. This home is no longer mine. I'm worried. People aregoing to know I'm missing. I miss them already. But something isr...assuring me. I should be scared but I'm not.As I crawl towards the door, my new tentacles struggle, but they liftme up higher. My little suction cups are sticking to the wall andholding me steady. I grab the latch and open my door. The moonlessnight and darkness welcome me. I can hear the ocean waves crashingalong the beach. I find myself wanting. “Yes master.” I said meeklyI got out of the car. As I started the long walk over to the other car, leaving tracks across the snowy ground behind me. I could feel the eyes of other men on me. When I was halfway to the car, its interior light came on, and I saw its occupant, a man of at least 60 years of age, he was watching me with interest. As I reached him, he wound his window down. 

“Well well, what have we here? A little schoolgirl, come to call?”

“Yes Sir,” I mumbled, “I’m a naughty. More

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