Toby was already on his third protein shake of the morning by the time the morning announcements came on.  In the year and a half that he’d been a “guest” of Miss Dawson’s Home, this had become routine.  Four shakes in the morning, before what ‘normal’ people would consider breakfast, four before lunch, and finally four before dinner.  Granted, he didn’t [i]enjoy[/i] the shakes (who would?), but it beat being tired and hungry all the time.  He’d heard through the grapevine that it had been Miss Dawson’s idea.  At the very least, [i]someone[/i] had left a flowery-worded message on the whiteboard in his apartment’s kitchen, with instructions.  Neither his parents, nor the medical professionals who had overseen him in the past had thought of it, he knew that for certain.  The fact that someone who at least worked for Miss Dawson went out of their way to actually help Toby put him in a minority; he actually didn’t mind living at the Home.  In fact, given the choice, he’d probably stay here, where monsters like him belong.  He knew that there were many others who felt differently, so when such matters came up in conversation (what few conversations he’d had) he kept his head down and stayed quiet, usually with noncommittal grunts or nods.

He set his cup down and looked in the mirror in his bedroom.  “Hi!”

Wow.  Too forward much?  Not to mention that his smile seemed just a little too big.  Facial expressions still gave him some trouble since ‘the incident’.  Or incidents, if you’d prefer.

He’d already decided that today would be the day.  He was finally going to talk to that girl, the one he saw every day.  He should try to approach her during breakfast at the mall.  He figured she’d be there; pretty much everyone was there at that time.

“S’up?”  Nah, too casual.

But casual would be his approach.  He didn’t’ want to seem too nervous.  He had to relax.  There was this girl in his old high school.  He wanted to ask her to the spring dance, because that’s what normal kids did.  So he asked her, without any prepping.  Bad idea.  He stumbled, he stuttered, his voice cracked, and his skin turned a nice shade of sunburnt.  Needless to say, she rejected him.  No one would want to be seen with a monster like him.  He wondered briefly if the other kids had seen him as a monster at that time, or if it was afterward…

“So…I don’t know if you know me.  I’m Toby, the-“

Butcher?  Slaughtermaster?  He chuckled to himself.  ‘Slaughtermaster’ sounded like a cool name for a supervillain.  Or maybe a death metal band.  But villainous or not, that was his job.  According to his superior, Toby was the only ‘youngster’ to make it through more than a week.  Sure, his first week had been sloppy, but over time, he perfected his technique.  Just a quick…  Nah, best not to think about that now.  Save it for work.  He decided to introduce himself as the butcher.  Or maybe butcher’s apprentice.  Yeah, apprentice sounded good.  Did saying his job even matter?  What if she hated what he did?

He downed the last of his shake, and immediately set to making another.  He’d drink it on the way to breakfast.  After getting dressed in his usual attire, a tan-brownish hoodie, cargo pants, and a greenish t-shirt, he grabbed his last shake and headed out the door toward the mall.