One

Elle POV.

Once upon a time in a land not too far away, lived a beautiful girl, her name was Elle, her eyes were brown, boring color, but hers had a shine into them, her hair was also brown, the beautiful brown with some natural highlights into them. She wasn’t the tallest person ever, but she’s not short either, she’s an average girl, her skin was fair, she never liked the sun, and the sun didn’t like her back, it burned her rather than tanning her leaving red marks instead of a tanned tone.

Elle was your average seventeen year old girl, she went to school, she came home, she did her homework, she didn’t have the best grades ever but she passed all of her classes. Looking at her life from the outside you’d think she’s just normal teenager, just another girl, no one special, there’s plenty of people just like her outside in the world. That’s what you’d say looking at her from the outside, but things are different once you open the closed doors, once you look behind the masks, if you come closer and take a look behind the locked doors, things aren’t that good, things are cold, they are bad, they are filled with abuse and hurt.

Elle grew up in a house with a drug addict mother, a father who’s self-centered enough to think the universe spin around him instead of the sun, he’s the main focus for himself. Elle went through hell, and not the typical bad home life, for her it was the literal hell with no hope for better days, please leave all your dreams and hopes outside, before enjoying the ride, or maybe not. The beating was a normal thing around here, yelling, screaming, throwing things around the pain, the tears, hunger was your best friend, and hiding was the best option, always. Elle went through so much mentally and physically that she needed a thing to help her cope, before the insanity took over or maybe before her heart gives up, she couldn’t survive everything she’s going through, she had to find a solution.

As if it’s not enough, as if hell wasn’t good enough for this princess, school was another nightmare, bullies, everyone get bullied but how far could you take it? How much could you actually take? They take it too far sometimes they had no limits, seeing your teared clothes, wearing same things over and over again, they had new reasons to bully her every day and if they didn’t they’d find one, thy were creative when it came to hurting her. It hurt, all the comments, she heard them, filled them all in, until her soul was filled with the hate, she believed them too, her mother and father agree with the bullies then why not believe the bullies, if everyone keep on saying it, it must be true.

She’s too fat, although she hardly eat, she’s not pretty there’s nothing stunning or special about her, she’s very average, no, she’s ugly, she should just kill herself, the bruises were something else some left by her parents and others left by the bullies which give them an extra reason to bully her. They’d ask her if she got into a fight maybe? Or if someone tried to kill her and be over with it, she tried to ignore the comments, but then they’ll ask why did they missed, why didn’t they do the job, they should just finish it themselves, and here comes some extra bruises.

Elle held it all in, she took all the bullying like a champ, but now back to the coping mechanism, to why she haven’t killed herself yet, to why she wasn’t listening, she listen but she tries to ignore them, and finally the way to survive the pain, have you ever heard about age regression? It’s something people do to help cope with trauma, especially the ones who have a bad childhood, the one where no one ever cared about you, did you know babies stop crying after a while when they find out that no one is coming for them, that was the first skill she learned, the kind of childhood where you had to learn to cook for yourself or starve. If you need new clothes, you don’t need more than one when young, washed or dirty, you’re always wearing the same one, and once you’re older well good luck saving for those and buying some from a second handed shop, you get the point, her childhood was a bad one.

Age regression was Elle’s way of surviving, she read some stories online, she imagined being there, she was taken by stories, by the love of books and the world of fiction, until she could forget all about her pain, all about the bruises, and all about everything.

Age regression by definition means going back to the age where you’re young, much younger, and taking control over the days you have missed, acting like the child that you were deprived of ever acting like. In other words it means you act like a child, you draw, you pain, you watch TV and whatever else the kids get to do, and she didn’t get the chance to do. Most age regressor have a dom, or a care giver, depends on what kind of relation they prefer, that dom or care giver acts like the parental character, take care of the little one, make them feel loved and safe, a feeling they are missing.

Sadly to say, she never had any care giver, those were tricky to find, most people are into the sexual bits of them, I, I mean she was more of an asexual person, she doesn’t hate sex really, but she need to have some emotional relation with someone first before even thinking about sex, or having it with anyone.

She had zero sexual expertise, while everyone else was busy sucking each other face in high school, she got bullied and had to hide away from everyone, you can’t have a relationship if you’re hated and bullied by everyone. The only sex she knows about was from her stories, the one were the characters enjoyed and explained their feelings, she had no idea if that was real or just stories word, she heard that story sex was made up sex, maybe the real one was the one she watched in videos, but even that was called out and said to be acting, she had no idea and wasn’t ready to try and find out yet. And if she ever gonna have something, whether with a girl or a boy, it got to be with someone she loves, with someone who’d respect and love her, someone who’d make sure that she’ll enjoy every second of it.

Elle grew up, going through hell or not, no one expected her to be seventeen forever, the days just run by, if you close your eyes and keep on counting, one-two-three, they will pass, they would. By the age of eighteen a number she was waiting for, she moved out, she found her own job nothing too fancy, just a minimum wage job. A place to stay, it’s more of a small dumpster but it’s hers and it’s her safe place. College wasn’t on her to do list, no one expected her to go there either, although she always dreamt of going to culinary school, but that was too damn expensive and her grades weren’t that special neither was she a very talented cooking genius, the closer she’ll get to her dream was her work in a low key restaurant, she wasn’t even in the kitchen, maybe that wasn’t a bad thing, the only job she could do there is washing the dishes. Her job was a waitress, the place was dirty on it’s best days, the food was cheap and uneatable, if you’re lucky, the sandwich would have everything it supposed to have and nothing else, believe me you’ll wish for it to be missing and not having any extras.

She also had a side job the waitressing job wasn’t enough but she still had some dreams of her own, remember her love for stories, she became an online author, writing stories about imaginary scenarios that would never happen, where the prince would sit next to you in the bus and be a daddy who doesn’t care about sex, and then one look to her eyes and the daddy would announce that she’s his undying love, and they’d live a happily ever after life. That’s just a story, don’t believe that, remember to be safe, the person who’s looking at you in the bus like you’re a snack, that’s probably a pervert or a thief, you better hide away, and run toward the house, don’t forget to lock the door behind you, don’t turn your light on right away, wait until you’re sure they left before announcing which house is yours.  

Yup, that’s me, the famous Elle, find me on I*****r, w*****d, and everywhere else, I’m done talking about myself in the third person, I love creating new characters, but let’s call it off before I turn myself into a vampire. I’m real, and I’m eighteen now, I work as a waitress, an online author, and a little. I like to think that I’m a princess, a self proclaimed princess, and imagination is my best friend, always have been, and always would be, I have my world in the dream world, where everything is nice and peachy, it’s a way to hide from the real cold world where everything nice get eaten and spat out.

I don’t have any little things like the ones I write about, those are extremely expensive and I’m saving up but I’m, always too short and behind in my savings, I still need to pay rent and have some food, I’m fat, I just gave up and made amends with being a big girl. Most littles in my stories are tiny! Short underweight, they have the blond hair, the coloured eyes, but I was nothing of that, I’m very average looking, and all my characters are in need of saving, I don’t need a prince charming to save me, I saved myself and now I’m planning my revenge, and that’s also pricey.

What I want is a hitman, I’m not in the most unsafe city, I don’t live in the bad part of the city, I live in the average part, safety is everything for me, I haven’t survived so long only to be killed by some random serial killer, in your dream bus pervert. I live in a shitty studio apartment, it’s what I call home, it’s where I sleep, eat, write and where I’m planning my revenge.

The hitman I was contacting, it’s a she, I’m all in to girl power, along with the fact that she’s the cheapest I could find, I need her to kill someone for me, well two someone for me. She agreed on that, but we’ve also been messaging online lately, she told me to call her the Devil, a very bad ass name. She’s my online friend, and I really enjoy chatting with her, even if she end up being an online liar, I enjoyed having a friend to chat with and talk to when I’m all alone. I had a night off today, it’s a rare thing for me to have a night off, I always pick up any available shift, I always need the extra money, I’m the one who’d come in when others don’t. I was still waiting for her to do the hit, she said all our connection will be cut the second things are done, but I don’t think she want to cut ties with me, or maybe she’s just lying to me, but I’m the devil friend apparently.

“Hi girl” I say with a big smile, she’s been trying to get me to talk about why I want them dead, what happened to me, but I’m really good at hiding things.

“Hi princess, what’s up?” she replies, princess is her nickname to me, I might have accidentally slipped being a little in front of her. How a hitman does knows what a little is, that’s a question only the Devil could answer you, if not my friend the Devil, the real one would answer you for real.

In all reality, I think she works for the devil, the real king of hell, but she’s my friend, and she loves me, she said so herself.

“Nothing, just some work. The usual, you know I’m short on chapters” I say with a whine.

“Is there any author who’s not short on chapters?” she replies with a sigh, yeah yeah true, I’m always ten chap short (For real I am).

“Not me” I say in all honestly.

“We need to meet up girlie, you need a kick in the bum to help you with your stories” Devil says making me giggle, and that’s why I’m keeping her around, I need this, it’s what keeps my insanity in line.