They never let me have roommates. Maybe they thought a genetic condition was contagious. My whole life lived in a minuscule room, in solitude except for the few times when someone dared give me some food. They did so fast, lest they give me any idea that I was still worth keeping alive.

Day after day, week after week I peered out, into a whole other world buzzing with life and fruitfulness and normality. Maybe that’s all I truly wanted – normality. This was not a way to live, a freak just put on display, knowing no one had any honest to goodness feelings of compassion towards you.

So is this the only reason they kept me alive? To entertain the them? To make them feel better about themselves? It seemed this was my cross to bear. No escape, no freedom.

One by one they went. All my neighbors, the ones who showed promise, who were full of life because they had no reason not to be. Everyone wanted them, they didn’t come with any extra baggage.

Waves of them came and went, I barely began to know them and they were gone too, undoubtedly to prosperous lives. Once more I glance up at the sign stuck at the top of my cage: “I might not be look perfect, but I’m perfect for you!” Ask any associate for details on our discounts on animals with imperfections.