You quickly bolted through your neighborhood, running at high speeds. For most, this would've been fairly dangerous seeing as it was still very dark out, though you had becone accustomed to this practice and therefore blazed across the trail with ease.

You lived near the edge of the town, wanting some peace away from the rest of society, and thankfully your work was not far. Your jobs were nestled near the heart of the city-like area, though not quite in the center.

As you made it closer to the center of town, where the buildings touched the sky and parking tickets were all too expensive, you slowed down a bit to catch your breath.

Looking around, you were not surprised to see that a majority of the city lights were off, excluding the streetlights. Not too long ago, the mayor of your tiny town had sent out an announcement that stated that all lights but the streetlights would have their power cut from 11:59pm- 5:00am.

Now, this was a ridiculous order, especially due to their reasoning behind it. They claimed that they wanted to reduce the amount of electricity used up and save the environment, though you knew it was a lie. The mayor just wanted to get more money to spend on their twisted child.

Man, was your world messed up.

There was, however, one upside to this idiotic idea. A stunning one, in fact. For in that short time period, from 11:59 pm to 5:00 am, you could see the stars.

On most nights, the town would create something known as "light pollution," which is when bright ligths seem out-shine the stars. Though ever since the order had been sent out, the stars had been brought back into view. It was beautiful, to say the least.

You soon found yourself wanting to watch the stars with Error, knowing fully that he loved space. It sounded quietly within you, like a small voice calling out. You wondered if he would ever trust you enough to let you take him outdoors, but the logical side of your brain decided against it. He would surely try to escape, wouldn't he?

And just like that, the loud voice of logic forced the minuscule murmur of hope into silence.

Sighing, you shook your head, looking away from the stars and towards a very large and intimidating mansion that lay just a few streets away.

You glumly walked towards it, knowing that your mistress would be oh-so-very happy at your arrival. Not.

Walking up to the gigantic front yard, you were met with a very large silver gate, much like your own. The only difference was the fact that this gate was strictly manual and not coated in gold. Actually, now that you thought about it, the only similarity they shared was the fact that they were both gates.

Producing a small handheld key from inside your pocket, you brought it to the lock on the gate, inserting it. Twisting the key, you pushed the large metal structure inwards, before removing and pocketing it once more.

Shutting the gate behind you, you glanced towards the large doghouse that lay to the side of the mansion's porch, where a large guard dog would reside.

Walking closer to the doghouse, you were met with the sight of a large, female Doberman Pinscher. It was very muscular, and gave off a very intimidating aura. Though the most important thing about it, was that it guarded the spare house key in its doghouse.

Shuddering, you slowly walked up to it, waking it. Its eyes shot open, and it immediately looked towards you.

Its dark eyes trained on you, completely focused. It didn't look away, not even for a split second, as you consumed its attention whole.

Suddenly, it turned around, grabbing the house keys in its jaws before dropping it in front of you, its knub of a tail wagging.

You happily accepted the key, petting the dogs head affectionately. You had known this animal for quite a long time, Rocca as she was called, and had managed to form a bond with her.

She bolted into her house, retrieving a stick, and dropped it at your feet. You knew she wanted to play a round or two of fetch, as was a part of the daily rut, so you complied.

"Alright Rocca, we can play fetch, but only two rounds today, alright?" You spoke, receiving a bark from the female.

You nodded, pulling your arm back before launching it forwards, sending the stick across the lawn.

Rocca bolted after it, not far behind, and had retrieved and returned it in no time. You repeated your actions once more, before having to put a hasty halt to the game and finally enter the house.

The house was pure white, white walls, white floor, white ceiling, and even white-stained windows that had a ghastly look to them. It was as if the owner of the house wanted to prove just how rich they were by being able to pay oodles of money per month simply to maintain the clean appearance.

The floor was made of marble, and was always kept waxed, by you of course. You were forced to wax them until one could see their own reflection on the floor, and walking without caution could cause one to slip and fall.

There were also red carpets that draped over the shiny flooring, as if the house owner were a stuck up celebrity. In actuality, they were just stuck up. That's it.

There was an intricate spiral staircase that lead up to the floor above; the second of five. And unfortunately, there was only one person who kept the entire house in good shape.

You.

"Y/N?!?! WHERE ARE YOU?!?! YOU'RE LATE!!!!" A voice screamed, sounding loud and shrill. It was your boss, the person you were on the phone with, and she was furious.

She was always furious.

She stomped down the stairs as if she weighed as much as an elephant, making so much noise that you were sure that everyone in a mile radius could hear her.

You couldn't see much, due to the fact that it was still dark out and no lights were turned on, but the blur of an object whizzing towards your head was clear.

You moved to block, but the lady grabbed your arm before you could do so, and a rolled-up newspaper smacked you right in the face.

You were yelled at for roughly 10 more minutes before receiving a hard slap on the forehead and knocked to the ground. The loud footsteps stomping away indicated that you had been left alone with your thoughts and physical pain, to which you let out a sigh.

Forcing a small smile, you muttered a single line under your breath. It was, unfortunately, true, as no sarcasm was present in your tone of voice as you spoke.

"Well, at least she's in a good mood today."

* * *

Error was hit with a realization about an hour into his travels in the outside world. It wasn't too big, it was minor, really, though it did make question his decisions once or twice.

Or seventy six times.

And that minor, itty bitty detail began to take an affect on him roughly 14 hours later, when his arms had only started aching. Now, that tiny detail was more of a fact, something that should've occurred to him earlier.

Escaping in a wheelchair was an awful idea.

There was no denying it; it was an outright idiotic move. He partially wished he never gave escape a second thought, although he had to at least try. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he never even tried to live his life as a free man.

He did have a reason for wanting to leave so quickly, however.

Although he wouldn't admit it outloud, the glitchy skeleton suspected that he was going soft.

He was starting to think of you more and more, even when performing idle tasks. He thought of you when he ate breakfast, as it reminded him of the kitchen incident. He thought of you when he saw chocolate, reminding him of your kind treatment when he first arrived. And he thought of you when the sunshine streamed in through the windows, as it reminded him of your beautiful smile.

Wait, did he just think of your smile as beautiful? No, of course not, that would be ridiculous. He totally meant bland, or boring; or literally any negative word that started with the letter b. Yeah, that's what he meant.

Totally.

Shaking his head, the glitchy skeleton looked upwards, trying to find a distraction from the thoughts that clouded and plagued his mind to no end.

Which just so happened to be centered around his housemate.

Taking a breath as he looked at the ever darkening sky, the male scanned the blue atmosphere, trying to pick out anything that caught his attention. This could be a cloud, a star, a stray kite; anything. If something caught his eye, he could focus on it and eventually forget all about the troubles of his own mind.

Gazing over the gateway to heaven, the skeletal figure took note of a runaway balloon, one that floated far off in the distance. At least, he believed it was a balloon. He couldn't quite see it, with his poor vision.

He patted his hips, where his jacket pockets would've been, only to be instantly enveloped in confusion when he didn't feel the bulge of his glasses.

He patted himself down a few more times, before looking down at himself to figure out where they could've possibly been.

He only saw the outfit he had put on at 4 am, and his jacket was nowhere to be found.

Shrugging it off, he was about to return to his examination of the balloon, when he remembered that he was too out in the open for comfort.

Quickly contemplating his decisions, he narrowed his options to two of the best choices he had. 1. Continue off into unknown territory and gain instant freedom, or 2. Return to your home and remain a captured man until he heals, though keeping a roof over his head, food in his magical stomach, and a bed to sleep in.

The choice was obvious.

Turning around and deciding to return to your residence and recuperate, the male tried to map out his return route based off of the landmarks he remembered.

He could either go back the way he came, which was looping around the town by travelling through the forest, or take a shortcut through the city.

"EeEeEeeERrrrrRGhh, i dOn't tHiNk hAve enOUgH tIme tO lOoP aLl ThE waY aRound AgAIn, tHat mIgHt tAke tOo lOnG..." He muttered, glancing wistfully at the woods, already knowing which route he had to go with.

"BUt gOd, I dOn'T wAnNa seE aLl tHoSe PeOpLe." He grumbled, rolling his eyelights as he manually pushed the week h- wheelchair. He suspected that he might draw unwanted attention if he used the motor.

Such advanced people like him would most definitely catch the eyes of commoners, should he use such a sophisticated creation.

Rolling back towards the town, the male made sure to cross through the darkest possible alleys, where no intelligent commoner would go.

Due to the fact that very few people actually think it's a good idea to walk through such shady areas, that overall minimizes the chance of being jumped.

If no one goes in, there's nobody to stop you from coming back out.

The sound of the wheels smoothly gliding along the concrete was pleasantly echoing through the alley, giving off a serene feeling.

It would have been calming if he hadn't heard the faint noise of someone slamming a door open, a heavy pair of footsteps, and the noise of someone pushing another person to the floor.

Error's intuition told him that it would be in his best intrest to investigate what the cause of the sounds were, so he hesitantly wheeled in the direction of the commotion.

Truth be told, he didn't feel right doing it. He knows just how unjust it is to spy on someone, and how invading it is as well.

Back when he was living in the proper timeline, or actually his antivoid, he found himself being spied on whenever he left his sanctuary abyss. It was more often than not, an unpleasant experience, one of which he would not enjoy going through again.

There was often the case where he would end up having to spy on his enemies, in a matter of life and death.

This time was different. He was fully aware that it was both unnecessary and unjust to be spying on someone who most likely didn't deserve to be spied on, but his nonexistent gut was telling him too. And his intuition had never failed him yet, so why risk it now?

Rounding a corner out of the shift alley he had just been in, the glitched skeleton came upon a large house. It was similar to the size of your own, though Error thought your house still looked better.

And yes, he was definitely biased.

Dismissing the thought, the male continued to investigate the outer appearance of the structure. It was a pale white, though not a pleasant "antivoid white," like yours.

To him, it appeared to be more like "The wannabe weirdo white."

Rolling his eyelights at the poor color choice, he tried not to question the intelligence of the house owner. Who on Earth is dumb enough to mess up white? All these thoughts ran through his head as he looked around for the source of the noises.

And then he saw it.

Laying in a heap on the front lawn of the house trembled a frail girl, one who looked as if they spent the day in he*l itself.

Error could see the house from a side viewpoint, and should've been able to see the side profile of her face, but she was collapsed on the floor with her arms blocking her face.

He felt empathy for the girl, knowing what it was like to be hurt and helpless, and had the strong urge to anonymously alert the authorities of  potential abuse.

But then a loud voice started shrieking.

"YOU LAZY, PATHETIC, PIECE OF TRASH!! GET BACK UP AND WORK!! WORK, OR I'LL THROW ANOTHER VASE AT YOU, YOU LOUSY, INCOMPETENT, IDIOT!!"

Error was startled by the loud voice, causing a large amount of new Error signs to materialize, and snapped his skull in the direction of the voice.

Standing on the porch of the house stood a plump lady, one who looked like she could use a treadmill. He already could tell thay she had anger issues based on the way she carried herself, as he was one to know.

She had a pale face and a wig, and was currently only wearing a bathrobe that was surely expensive. But the thing that had paid attention to was the partially-broken vase in her right hand, with broken and chipped edges, as if it were bashed against a person or surface at great force.

It was dripping a crimson liquid.

Error refocused his attention on the girl on the floor, who had begun stirring. She shakily put her arms to the side, sitting up slowly, with her head down. Her hair blocked her face,  stopping him from seeing who she was.

He wondered if he could be pf any assistance to her whilst still remaining anonymous, though his thoughts were immediately put on hold when she spoke.

Looking up, her hair fell back, exposing her battered and bloodied face. She wore a bloody facemask, hiding her mouth and cheeks, though her gorgeous eyes were in plain sight.

Attempting and failing to remain sitting upright, she collapsed back to the floor, curling her fists on the ground.

Clenching her eyes together, she spoke, her voice hushed to a whisper. She whimpered quietly, almost under her breath, though audible to Error.

"Y-yes M-mistress." You spoke, your voice being recognized by the skeleton.

"GOOD!! NOW GET BACK IN HERE AND WORK, YOU WORM!!" The woman screamed, throwing the vase at your legs before he could react.

It hit your legs hard, drawing a strangled noise to emit from your throat, and causing a smile to form on the lady's face. Error stood in shock and anger, knowing he was unable to do anything about it.

Error couldn't do anything but stand and watch as that lady picked the shattered remains of the vase off of your pained figure. A feeling of indescribable fury washed over him, darkening his face and urging him to get blood on his hands.

The lady walked slowly into the house, stopping to look back at you, though it wasn't out of pity. She looked at you with malicious intent, a dark gleam in her eyes.

"Oh, by the way, you runt.  Don't even think of telling anyone. The usual, you know the drill. No one would believe you if you tried, anyways. Why? Oh, simple, really..."

"No one saw, so it didn't happen."

The woman then disappeared into the safety of her home without another word, leaving you broken on the floor. Error grinned, his eyelights darkening to the color of blood. That woman was oh so wrong. Because there was one person who saw it.

He saw everything.

*Error was filled with H̷͚̥͌͊̆͂͛̓͗a̵̛̓͜t̵̙͔̦̰̉̏̏̊̈́̕͝e̸̫̼̎̐ *

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(Previously in this spot was a toxic note from my ex-editor, please disregard)