DollMaker: A Confession Of A Madman [COMPLETED]

TWO

I didn't answer her. "Let me show you something beautiful," I said instead.

She nodded and followed me to the workshop. I lit the place, and she observed my works with an empty expression. She saw the broken dolls, the dolls that are for sale, and then her attention shifted towards a particular doll that was left undone.

"They are all sad," she commented. I never understood her. She was a puzzle to me. But then after I drew a deep breath, I opened my eyes wide and observed each of my work closely. I understand now.

They are all sad, empty. Their lips are smiling, but not their eyes. They are not alive. They were never alive. "Will you show me how to make them happy?"

She nodded.

She was a strange person. A young girl with a story, but with too little words. I never questioned her desire to commit suicide. Though I always wondered from time to time. She was hard to read, her pale expressions did not help.

She visited me every noon, observing me while I work. And then she would leave along with the sunset. When I hit a wall, which was often these days, she'll grab my hand and we'd take a stroll down the river. We walked without speaking to one another. Sometimes I'll make a comment about the weather or the growing buds that align with the riverbed. She replies, but with a frail voice. Almost like she's scared to speak out her mind.

One day, however, she came with a basket of bread. We sat down the riverbed. There I met the landlady I rent under. "Oh my, Harrison," she said. "I never knew you had a little sister."

"No, I'm just looking after a niece," I lied. I glanced at the girl for a moment. I realized I never asked for her name. But when I glimpsed at her, for a moment there I could almost swear that I saw her smile, her pale cheeks were blushing. I was astonished, speechless. She was so beautiful. I asked her about the smile.

She held a slice of bread close to her lips and said, "The bread, I made them myself. I'm happy that they turned delicious."

"You made them?" I took another bite. "Yes, they are delicious."

"You smiled too."

"What...? Yes, I believe that I did." We continued eating the bread and some I layered with strawberry jam. After it got dark, we walked to the workshop. Before she could leave then to wherever she goes. I asked her, "Your name, I guess I never asked for it."

She chuckled which made my heart bloom. I never saw such an expression on her. Nor a sad one or a happy one. I wondered how will they look on her, but now I see.

"I'm Sakura."

The next day, I overslept with cheerful dreams. I may even resume my work! I arrived a little after noon to the workshop. I imagine Sakura must be waiting outside. Did I close the workshop doors? I hope at least the back door is unlocked. I usually leave it unlocked. I'm not concerned that thieves may open it and steal what's inside. Because even if a thief attempted in opening the door, he'll fail miserably. You see, the door has a little trick to opening it. The knob must be first pulled and then twisted to the opposite direction, followed with a slow push inwards. I showed this trick to no one but Sakura.

I entered from the front door, and I saw the lights still asleep. I stepped in to collect my tools and resume my work. Oddly enough, Sakura hasn't visited yet. Has she overslept too? I was too careless, staring out the window for her to come, that I stumbled upon something and fell to my face. With my arms, I slowly lifted my body. When I opened my eyes, I was facing Sakura who was lying on the floor, motionless. Her eyes opened wide, and a smile grew upon her face. I assumed she was laughing at me. But then when I stood and offered my hand to help her stand. She didn't reply. I called several times. However, she hasn't moved. I then had a terrifying thought. To make sure it was just my imagination, I placed my ears near her chest hoping that it was all a sick joke. But to my saddest realization, I heard nothing. Oh, I could still hear the fuss outdoors, but not her little heart. She was dead!