Our box shudders and the plastic straps that keep my arms in place jerk around. I stare straight ahead as the blue curtains stapled to the shutters swish behind me.
Outside of this transparent enclosure, a little girl with shiny eyes and hyperactive pigtails holds the box in her grasp and yells at what seems to be the top of her lungs. The strains of “Mummy, mummy, oh please, mummy!” drift through the box as we’re shaken like the pills inside an unwanted prescription container.
As they walk, the uneven strides of the girl jounce us about and smear the fingerprints that her grubby hands have left on the clear wall.
At the cash register, I drill my dull, lifeless/lifeful gaze into the cashier. He scans the package hastily and swivels us around so that we aren’t facing him anymore; so that our line up of pretty-painted faces and leetle pieces of fabric outfits don’t stare at him.
°
When she unwraps us, I see my Mother’s hand resting comfortably on the slight bulge on her waist, trying to comfort herself with the thought of mindless intoxicants. As she wets her lips ever-so-slightly, the matte, dark-red lipstick the colour of blood begins to fade. She mourns for the man who doesn’t love her anymore.
Brother’s hand twitches and the hollows under his eyes seem longer and darker than usual.
But when the girl comes out to play, our anything-but is absolutely pasted-on perfect- at least until the front wall slams shut and the curtains are pulled tight over the windows.
YOU ARE READING
Dollhouse |slow updates|
Fanfiction{based off Melanie Martinez's song, "Dollhouse"} This is my interpretation of Melanie Martinez's song, adapted to be more of a story, rather than just the song.
