Welp, this is how it all ends.

By now, I’m sure my mom has just started a new family with sons that won’t get lost at Kmart. All I wanted was the new Cars 3 Mr. Potato Head, and now I’m an orphan, forever. One moment you’re right next to your mom’s cart, and then the next moment, you’re a goner.

If there’s some sort of service to remember me, please have them mention my karate belts.

My mother was tall with short brown hair. I already miss her so much. We were going to pick up the new Cars 3 Mr. Potato Head and a box of Raisinets and she was going to get shampoo, and then life as I know it came to a screeching halt. That’s why I’m here, cowering beneath this empty fish tank in the pets aisle.

Nobody has come through here in what seems like days. I feel safe here, in my new home. Sure there’s no PlayStation, but I’m not allowed to play on school nights anyway. I think it’s a school night. I’ve lost all concept of time. Or I never had it. I’m seven.

I think this Kmart is going out of business right now, in this moment. They’ve just been shutting off lights and emptying shelves at an alarming rate. I might need to search for new shelter accordingly. They’ve gutted the Home Entertainment section, and the empty shelving might prove to be an appropriate hiding place.

I’ve got to go potty. This is only worth mentioning because I’ve never gone into the bathroom by myself. The survivalist instinct in me is telling me to just hold it. I have too much to risk. I’ve come too far.

Before long I’m sure my family will forget I ever existed. And that’s what really hurts. Living in a Kmart isn’t nearly as painful as knowing that my family will find a new Billy. One can only hope this Billy knows how to stay with the group when they go shopping. I hope that New Billy will spare my mother the pain of leaving another Billy behind.

Then again, I hope my mother has learned her lesson, and I hope she would never let New Billy out of her sight during future Kmart excursions.