The archive of the forgotten

Pinocchio is a real boy

trigger warning: blood, violence and other disturbing content

My feet turn and dance, elegantly, but without my consent, the blood leaking from the top of my wrists, there's a sharp pain in all of my joints. I take an uninvited bow, the tears fall from my eyes. The people in the theatre cheer and clap because what a performance! how incredible! a marionette that looks like a real human. How is that possible they will ask when they leave the theatre.

It isn't it is as simple as that. It isn't possible. Because I am real, I am not puppet. I want to call for help, I want to let them know I am alive. I am in pain! I am in terrible pain! Can't they see the tears in my eyes? The rotting flesh around the nails in my joints, the croacking sounds of my bones as I'm being lead through this misery. The curtains close and the eleven strigns holding me up relax, resulting in the fact that I slowly caves in and I'm lying on the floor.

"What a good performance today Logan" He says while he walks up to my limp body. I am not even certain what to call myself anymore, am I still alive? He carries me to the workshop And puts me on the chair specifically made to hold me up, and I ask myself if I am the first one. I know I am his first succes but I don't know whether he succeeded the first time he tried. I wonder if my parents wonder where I am. I wish I hadn't broken contact, If I hadn't maybe people would be looking for me. A tear streams down my numb cheek.

"Don't cry" Dearil, the devil that has made me this way says, almost lovingly. He loosens the tie I wear when performing, in and effort to make me comfortable? I wonder what I look like right now, my eyes must be full of hatred, and my tears cooling my burning flesh. He grabs the paint he uses for all his puppets, he covers up the blue spots all over my body. I feel like he is torturing me. The iron smell of blood can be noticed through the whole workshop. Why does he need to do this? It hurts so much. But what might hurt the most is the fact that I know no one is missing me, otherwise they would've already found me.

He cuts the thread keeping my mouth shut and opens the wires holding my jaws in place. I spit out the blood that has accumulated in my mouth. "Dearil please." I say with desperation in my voice, he grabs a glas of water. "Come here" He says tenderly. "The next performance you need to remember to smile Logan" He says, ignoring my pleas for mercy. He wants to pour the water in my mouth but I don't open my mouth and look the other way, if he won't let release me I will release myself. "Come on Logan, don't be childish." He says like a father begging their child to their vegetables. But I don't budge.

He grabs my face and opens my mouth. "Listen to me!" He says angrily, his eyes are so scary. I am so afraid of this, his crimson hair and green eyes full of insanity that I once mistook for admiration or lust. The water in my throat hurts and the salty tears are mixing with the water I would once call refreshing.

My expression is so bitter and angry as he brings me a tray of food. "Come on, eat" If someone would have heard it it would sound like one significant other begs the sick one to eat. But I will refuse. I don't move an inch. "Eat" He says. I smirk a bit "No" I only say. "Fine! If you don't do it I will make you!" He says as he walks away, I immediately regret having said no.

He returns with a funnel and pureed food. I close my eyes and curse between my teeth. He pulls my short dark hair backwards so I can only see my tears and the ceiling. The funnel feels too cold and hard in my throat which is begging me to throw up as the rancid texture of the food slowly is pushed dow again and again, I cannot do anything else than swallow. I can barely breathe.

When he takes the funnel out I gasp and look at the ground, the hot tears in my eyes burn the ground. "You monster" I whisper. "I'm only keeping you alive my dear" He says while he washes his hands. "Bastard." I say while I try to spit out the last remaining food. "You said you wanted to be famous, look at you now darling. You are so famous!" I shake my head. "No! You are famous, I am believed to be a boy out of wood! If you want me to be yout puppet fine! I don't care anymore, but this is not a life!" "What are you asking?" "Kill me for god's sake!" I scream, I beg. I want my dream of being released from this pain to be true. He hits the table. "Don't you get it Logan?" "No I don't" I scream with tears in my eyes. "If you die you'll be beautiful for sometime, and than you'll slowly begin to wilt, you won't look like a human, you won't look like you! And I couldn't replace you. Because nobody is as beautiful as you are sweetheart." I look up at him, the anger in my eyes could scorch him but it seems he likes it. "I trusted you" I say, he smirks and kisses me on the cheek. "Than you need to be more careful. Now be a doll and sit still" He says as he wired my jaw shut again.

Yeah I know it might be a bit dark but I'm quite interested how I could build all of this. But I guess I could also make it more greusome if I would like.