C H A P T E R 3;
dying paradise✗ ✗ ✗ ✗ ✗
I took a right turn down the empty highway. Small tufts of grass and few weeds stood up from the cracks in the pavement, dying. I have no idea what the highway was actually called, so I called it Stacy Highway. As I walked, my shoes' steps echoed along with me. This wonderful playground was being killed. Even by the way my figurines built tiny parks, this was my empty, dying playground.
I wonder, why everyone doesn't just stop and explore at night? They could stop building and just see the playground they already have. The morning brings unhappiness to my playground and my living dolls. The night however, brings a longing for a place you've never been, a thing you've never seen. You have the urge to walk the empty streets looking for your place in the world, your place in my playground.
As I walked down the empty highway, I felt a presence. I stared up at the sky. And there, in the dark, black sky; a hole. A hole through the clouds, perfectly round. The moon was inside it. For the first time I saw, I saw what the moon really looked like. Not some big rock floating beyond the clouds. No. Something more.
The moon gleamed down in the middle of the highway.
It seemed to be saying, "Come on, big brother. Your playground is pure. Join me up in the sky, and be my star to light up my world."
Stacy.
Long ago, my little sister died. It wasn't as tragic as most people would think. I cared for her as much as I loved my playground, but I loved my playground more. You won't need anyone once you own a playground. You won't need time anymore too, not that you need it in the first place.
I visited her in the huge white dollhouse with the beds and the nurses. Her skin was paler before, paler than the frost on the window beside her. Her small fragile frame lay still, alone. Her heart monitor was on. The huge machine on her hid her head within it, constantly scanning.
I looked down to her from the window. I couldn't see any of her face except for her nose down. The memory of her eyes was too distant, replaced by memories of my playground or the sight of the huge machine blocking them.
"Big brother," she said, her voice wavering, "when can I see you again?"
Her heart monitor started beeping.
"Stacy," I told her, "You won't see me for a while. You are going to a far away place, too far for me to reach. Wait for me there for when I finish my work."
Her breath became more panicky as her heart monitor started beeping faster.
"Big brother," she whispered, her voice cracking from the panic, "what are you working on? W-Where am I going..?.."
The heart monitor was beeping impossibly fast.
"Goodbye, Stacy."
A final last beep.
I stood from the chair I was sitting on and walked towards her failing body. I heard the doctors banging against the door I'd locked. I wrenched the large machine from her head. Her eyes were colourless, glassy grey. Her eyes gazed upwards, not in focus. A single tear stored in the corner of her eye rolled down her cheek. Her expression was an eerie smile.
Even though her heart had stopped, she whispered so quietly I almost didn't hear, "You look just the same..."
I smiled.
Long ago I stopped smiling. That was one of the last time I smiled. Now what I do is purifying this dying playground. For Stacy.
I turned away from the pure moon, from Stacy. My work isn't done yet. I turned back towards my playground when I met a group of four. Now, for people who want to invest in living dolls and figurines, you'll have to note that some go bad. Even in my playground, some go missing, and some are corrupted.
I simply stood as the four advanced on me, beating me and stabbing me with mere tools like sticks and scissors. I reached for my knife which I swore never to use, but it wasn't there. I'd lost it. I fell to my knees as they continued beating me up. I felt like I was going to have a black eye and a swollen cheek.
Once they emptied out my empty pockets and realized that I had nothing worthwhile on me, they left. I stared after them, after the bad dolls who were rough enough to hurt me. I looked down at my lone figure. I was bleeding from several places and had forming bruises. I had a feeling my hair was ruffled up. I readjusted my earphones again, thanking them for not stealing them. Parts of me stung and ached as I stood up but I didn't care for any of it. I had work to do.
I stood up and turned back. I walked alone and hurt back to my dying paradise. The Reality Killer's dying paradise.
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night life
General FictionThe city was timeless at night, there was no place to go. Just maze-like alleys and roads, and streets and bridges. There were no seats to take, nor stores or shops. The few cars alight drove past with no delay, and the few cats and birds went past...