Ruby Red Marionette

thirtyfive | willow

"They're puppet masters."

Batul sat on the edge of the bench as still and motionless as the monkey bars and swings around us. We were in the middle of an empty playground, which was usually a vibrant, innocent place. But nothing we were talking about was innocent. The only reason we were here was because it was four days until Christmas, so you generally wouldn't see anybody swinging on the tire swings. We could be alone here, if anywhere.

Tyler had been going off on a rant about how strange this was, about the fact that all of those things happened at times in our lives before we met each other (except my story). So, he'd said, how did they get access to those things? How'd they find out about them? Why were they using them against us? During his rant, he stopped himself and asked 'what do I even call them?'.

That's when Batul responded.

"Puppet masters?" Yvette asked. "What does that mean?"

"Can't you see it?" Batul asked her. "We're puppets. They're controlling us. They control when we leave the house and when we don't. They control what we know and what we don't. Yesterday, they tortured us. And then after that, they decided when they wanted to defog our windows and unlock our doors—and they did it the morning after the torture. We are running around on strings, Yvette, and just when we think we've run far enough, the strings snap back and we're in their palms again."

"So now we have a name for them? How nice." Isaiah mumbled, sitting on the arm of the bench.

"Why are you in a sucky mood today?" Tyler asked him.

"Because I didn't get any sleep last night. I was up all night wondering when these 'puppet masters' would allow me to leave my god damn house."

"Why didn't your sister come home last night to save us, anyway?" Batul asked Yvette. We all looked at her.

"This morning, she called me and told me she's sleeping at her boyfriend's place. She was trying to call and tell me last night but my phone was dead." She said.

"How convenient that the one night she sleeps at her boyfriend's, we're on house arrest." Isaiah said.

Tyler, who had been pacing back and forth in front of us, finally sat down on the bench. "So what are we supposed to do now?"

They all sat and pondered this question. It was a legit one, for sure. It was also one that we'd been asking for the past few months without prevail. In the midst of the moment of silence, Tyler looked to me.

"You." He said.

"What?" I asked.

"You're the smart one. Give us our answer."

I wanted to tell him that I didn't have an answer. I wanted to say that throughout this entire meeting we were having, I was too busy thinking about one thing: the abortion. After just getting over the fact that it happened, after just forgiving myself, they threw it back in my face. Why? Of all the things I'd done, was that really the worst? And why wasn't paying for my lie?

If I couldn't answer these questions, how could I answer Tyler's?

"I got nothing." I told him.

"What?"

"I knew it. Batul's the smart one. Geneva's the manipulative, deceitful, sneaky, spiteful, evil one." Yvette chuckled.

"Oh, that was really good, Yvette!" I gave her a bright smile. "Now why don't you try describing yourself in five words?" She stayed silent. "Oops, I guess you can't. Maybe try getting a personality and we can try again next time."