JUST A DOLL

This is my story, the story of a puppet doll. nameless, genderless and lifeless with one and only duty, to follow my master’s wishes, to obey and never question anything, strained with the wires connected to my body which drains my energy to the last drop.
As any puppet doll we are to preform in puppet plays, with plots written by our masters, cruel and sad plots. And we are to never argue or never stray from those pitiless realities enforced upon us.
In my master’s plays, I’ve been given a name, “Lilian”, an orphan girl from the lowest classes of society, with nothing but and old dirty dress to cover my white naked skin. unlike other plays and other stories where poor girls become princesses and have happy endings, castles, princes, happiness and joy. I’m afraid my master isn’t that kind, my stories are sadder, and more unpleasant, closer to reality, girls like me will never become princesses and will never have happy endings, I’m always the victim, the girl that is used to please other characters sick twisted desires, I’m a mere puppet doll, in reality, and in plays.
After each play, my master puts me back in a black small box, my home that I spend my whole life prisoned within, I hear my name sometimes, but in disgusting unpleasant tone, the box had no lock and my master didn’t care about us that much to worry about us being stolen so few human other then our master often use us. one cold evening the box opened and a chilling stream of cold air rushed in, my skin shivered for I have nothing but a thin dress to cover my body, a pair of human hands appeared and a voice can be heard “I’ll take the pretty doll!” and with that the hands grabbed my feeble body and took me out, it was dark but I could clearly see who he took me, with eyes full with evil I felt a fire burning within me, I knew what will happen, but I had no power to do anything, I’m not my own master, I can’t control the strings that are linked to my body.
the boy grinning mischievously reached his hands for my dress, I cried for help, I cried for the lord, I cried for anyone to save me…but I’m a doll, and dolls have no voice, so I could only cry in silence. He took the piece of fabric covering my body and exposed my virgin wooden skin dyed white, the grin only widened as he ran his filthy fingers on my bare skin till he reached my face, even with I’m a doll but I swear a tear dropped on my wooden cheek, I’m not Cinderella, I’m just poor Lilian.
Minutes felt like hours, my wooden skin started to crack, I tried enduring it but couldn’t and the pain only grew bigger, my frail body after being played with was throw aside, like in plays like in reality, I’m just a doll.
Days passed, and nothing changed, my prayers weren’t heard, I’m still toyed with, and the pervert only spoiled my body even more, his friends started coming too, but what could I do, I’m just a silent doll against three humans.
Days passed, and my mind was changed, I’m no longer sane, I wanted to die, to disappear, to end all this suffering. Thoughts started to flow and my reason was weakening, I wanted to cut my wires and with it lose the reason I am what I am.
Days passed and finally a ray of hope, a ray of light was casted upon me, my masters play had the liking of some humans and we r requested to preform in a decent place. The plays still the same, I’m still the poor Lilian who’s a side character and a toy to be thrown after being used, but at least I won’t be toyed by humans, I convinced myself its ok if its just the other dolls, if its just in the plays, I tried to neglect the bigger evil with the lesser evil but still in both cases, they are evil.
Or so I thought, its was wrong to assume they are good humans, I though being in a decent place I’ll be surrounded by decent humans but I was mistaken. It’s a destiny that poor little things will be used by rich bigger things, the only difference now is that the new human wasn’t a boy but a girl, a Nobel girl with no sense of nobility, she tortured me and enjoyed every single second of it, I couldn’t even show a sign of pain of agony on my face, after all I’m a doll, the color of my skin worn, the cracks on my body only grew wider, my wires felt like they weight the sky and earth together, my small heart was about to explode from the amount of negative thought stored inside, I was worthless, I was needless, I’m just a doll.
I endured the torture the best I could until that day came, our plays were a success and attracted more audience, my master was advised to get an assistant to help maintain the dolls, I already lost all the hope in humanity so I knew what was waiting for me. My master brought an old man with life full experience with puppet dolls, needless to say my assumption was correct, the old man was no exception, evil flows within all human, I’ve been played for long, I had my enough and I wanted to be freed, I tried to cut my ties with the only thing I knew, the life I had.
The plays continued, the success grew bigger, and humans who now own my master demanded more, they interfered with the plays, added new puppets, new roles, and changed the old roles my master assigned to us, but I lost all hope, I sat in the dark corner of the small box I took as my home, I’ll always be Lilian, the forgotten doll.
The box had now more dolls, it was much livelier than before, new cheerful dolls lightened up the puppet doll box, and it wasn’t going unnoticed the gloomy hurt doll in the corner.
Her skin color faded, cracks ruining her beautiful wooden skin, her dead eyes and broken heart. The new dolls tried approaching her, and as soon they learned her story, they felt sympathy toward her but still embraced her and accepted her for who she is, they encouraged her, helped her forget, helped her to be happy. She not just a poor girl with old dress anymore, she was just too pretty to be in that role.
Now she was given a new role, demanded by the audience, she’s more fit in a princess role… if not in the play then in the heart of her friends and fellow dolls, she’s no more the puppet used and thrown in the play, she’s a normal girl, courageous, thoughtful, and a happy doll.
This is not my story, the puppet doll Lilian, this is our story.