A Dolly Revenge

Short Story: A Dolly Revenge

“Cassidy, you’re going to be late again,” my mother yelled from downstairs, jolting me out of my sleepy state and causing my heart to beat furiously against my chest. I can’t afford to be late again! Silently cursing myself for forgetting to set my alarm clock on yet again, I swiftly grabbed my faded pink backpack off my chair and ran as fast as I could down the stairs. 

Halfway out the door, I remembered that I had forgotten about Susie. Groaning, I raced back up the stairs and burst into my room. After gently picking up Susie, a ten-year-old tattered doll, I put her into the safety of my backpack before darting out of my room and down the stairs for the second time. Skipping breakfast for the fourth day in a row, I slammed the house door shut behind me and jumped into my mother’s old Honda Accord, which was already running and ready to go. “What took you so long?” my mother asked, her eyes showing her impatience as she pulled out of our driveway.

“I almost forgot Susie,” I told her once I regained my breath. I wasn’t a sporty person so running up the flight of stairs twice had taken a lot out of me. My mother sighed when she heard my answer. 

“Cassidy, you’re in grade nine now. Why are you still bringing Susie to school?” she questioned, shaking her head at me.

“I won’t be able to concentrate at school if she isn’t with me.”

“But-” I cut my mom off.

“Mom, you know how much Susie means to me.” This effectively silenced my mother as sadness washed over her eyes. Ten years, it has been ten years since my father passed away after fighting against cancer for months. I was young and I didn’t understand what death actually meant. I kept hoping he would just turn up at our doorstep one evening and engulf me into one of his warm hugs as I ran into his arms. It wasn’t until years later that all hope inside me died. I was nine when I realized he was truly dead, and he was never ever coming back again.

When I felt tears rolling down my cheeks at the memory of my father, I quickly wiped them away with the back of my sleeve and took Susie out of my bag. I hugged her tightly to chest as I closed my eyes, willing myself to stop crying. As usual, Susie worked like a charm as a sense of calm washed over me and the tears stopped. I couldn’t believe that I had nearly forgotten to bring Susie to school with me. It was unthinkable to part with Susie, even for a few hours. 

Until my grave, I will always remember the night when Susie was given to me. It was the same night when my father brought home horrible news that he was diagnosed with cancer. Although cancer was not in the list of vocabulary I knew at that time, I, a mere five-year-old, could tell that the situation was grave as my mother’s cheery smile immediately slipped off her face and tears threatened to spill out of her eyes.

Seeing my mother cry made me cry as well although I didn’t know what was happening. My tough father did not even shed a single tear as he hugged the both of us, softly whispering that everything would be okay. He pulled away from us after a moment to reach into his bag to pull out a white doll with light blue edges and held it out to me. “I got this for you, Cassidy,” he told me and urged me to go upstairs to play with it as he wanted to talk my mother privately. I obediently followed his orders and went upstairs with my brand new doll.

Susie had remained nameless until my father was approaching his last days. As usual, I was bugging my mother and asking her what was going on. She finally told me that my father was severely sick and that Dr. Susie, a kind and cheerful woman, was a hero and she was trying her very best save my father. At that time, my little head couldn’t wrap around what my mother said, but knowing that she was a hero and that she was trying to save my father made me like her enough to name my doll after her.