In the morning, everything was as usual, but later, after school, you felt someone inject you with something. The urge to scream was strong, and you woke up in a small room. You were in your underwear, but not yours. This one was different. There was only a potty, a bowl of water with your name on it, another bowl also with your name on it, but inside was dog food, and a playpen—a large playpen. Around your neck, you wore a collar that gives an electric shock when a dog barks. He walked into the room. The boy you once rejected. He approached you. He had the remote control from the collar and a leash. He clipped the leash on and pulled. Come on, you, I feel like walking the dog.