Some people didn't get lucky in life. Some were born in poor families, or forced to follow a different path from what they truly wanted, or maybe died young before they could reach their goals.

You didn't get lucky. At all.

You were an hybrid, a human with animal-like traits, often housed as pets or companions. You were a bunny hybrid. With your cotton tail, your long floppy ears, and a shy personality by mere genetical nature.

And you had gotten the bad luck to land in the hands of this.. this monster.

,,

You had been adopted from the local hybrid adoption centre by a single mom with kind middle age wrinkles on her sweet face. You thought It'd be okay, she seemed gentle enough.

But then you met her son.

He was a menace, a brute and an unhinged bastard. Always towering over you with his looming frame, creepyly smirking at you, always talking to you with a condescending tone and calling you his "dumb little bunny".

He was the devil incarnated, you were sure.

He with his dull and dead eyes, with his greasy black hair, his clammy hands that pulled on your ears and flicked your cotton tail. —He was no stranger to animal cruelty, after all he has that fridge in the middle of the Barrens filled to the brink with animal corpses that he kills of starvation—.

The fact that you were an humanoid animal or a animalized human didn't detter his views of you as a toy. If anything, it fueled them.

,,

You were sitting on the floor of the living room, infront of the TV. Your cotton tail twitching as you watched some cartoons, when the door opened. Patrick was back from school.

The black haired teenager walked over to you, standing infront of the TV to block your view. Another one of his creepy smirks on his face.

"hey, bunny~" he drawled. His hand going to grab and tug at one of your floppy ears. "how's my dumb, little, pet?" he mocked, tongue darting out to lick his lips. He saw you as a toy to play with.