As night falls Outside, our rooms slowly grow dark and one by one our hands reach under lampshades and lights flicker on. While the harsh glow of the lightbulb is scattered over my room, I reach back into the false bottom of my desk.
Because when the light subsides, the knife creeps in.
My shiv in one hand, I walk through the holes in the walls to get to the kitchen. It's brightly lit, as always, and has neon colours on the walls.
I pivot on my heels and lean over to get to the cabinet on the lower shelf. When I open it, I run my fingers over the china-doll figurines. There's fruits and bright packages, but also creatures.
Koalas. Ponies. Sheep. Kittens. Curvy snakes. Bunnies.
I wrap my fingers around the bunny and lift it up. The words Made in Thailand are ingrained on the bottom. I sweep my fingers over the indents and rub at them, trying to make them disappear. Once the words begin to fade, the bunny squirms and softens.
It grows in my palm until I have to cradle it like a baby. As it squeals, I grab a plate from a different cabinet and slam it onto the table. The plate vibrates a bit, but it doesn't shatter. Then I dump the bunny onto the plate and take out my shiv again.
It gleams in the brightness and I look at my reflection. If you couldn't see me - only this reflection, you'd think I were a regular person. Not a doll.
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.
