Dollhouse

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My face is a mess as I crutch myself out of the hospital. Makeup runs down it like ravines and, suddenly, I wish I was in one. I wish that it would have been me that died instead of them. Me instead of them. Why am I still alive? Why didn't God just let me die?!

I make across the street, going as fast as I can on crutches, sobs shaking my body. I keep going. I don't know how far or how long I go for. I just do.

It's not even a gloomy morning. The sun is shining down like nothing bad ever happens. It shines down like it has its own case of doll-syndrome. It's the one with a doll face. Why can't Dahlia just call the sun plastic instead of me?

I shake my head. I'm being irrational.

But I need to be.

I sit down on the long bridge, my back up against the cement. Cars pass by, the people inside living their lives. Maybe they're happy. Maybe they're like me.

My spine scrapes the cement wall behind me as I cry, my body bouncing with each sob. My parents don't know I left the hospital room. They'd have a fit when I got home.

If I came home...

I curl my body up in a tight ball, trying to get as small as I can. Maybe if I got small enough, I would disappear. I wouldn't have to go through any of this anymore.

I sit like that until my muscles ache and the sun is hot on my body. I feel swear start to gather all over my body and the traffic increase.

What if I died today? Would it be easy to go, or would it be painful? Would I fight for my life like how Tobiah fought for mine? Or would I go as quickly as John?

I look up at the world around me. Everything has its own place in this world. Everything belongs where it is placed, and even if it doesn't, it will get there some day.

But where am I?

Am I where I'm supposed to be? Have I finished what I need to do here? Or am I still making my way there?

I look up at the blue sky, not a cloud in sight. I've run out of tears and my body is torn between going back and staying here.

A car pulls over to the shoulder near me. Something inside of me prickles with fear, but the rest of me is just tired. I don't move, but I keep my eyes on the car as the doors open.

Faces of people I know look at me, concerned. They walk to me and kneel down beside me. Can't they just leave me alone? Can't everyone just leave me alone? Can't they see I don't want any company right now?

"Amabel? Are you okay?" I hear Dahlia speak. I don't look at her. I don't respond. I just stare straight ahead blankly and refuse to move. I refuse to answer.

"Amabel, sweetie?" I hear. It's her mom. "Amabel, hey, look at me please."

I close my eyes and lean my head back against the wall, giving in to what someone else wants me to do again. I become a doll again.