Her Hidden Pain

My job is simple. It always has been. I just have to do what I'm told and never complain. I take what I'm given and express pleasure as I say "Yes sir." or "Thank you sir." or something within that category.

I am a simple doll, a puppet used to do everyone's dirty work. So I do what all other marionettes do. I sit there with blank eyes that express and reflect an emotion I do not feel. I paste on a smile and pretend that I don't notice that the world, my world, is cracking like fragile glass around me.

Why? Because it's my job. And I'll keep hiding my tears and pain because of it.

It'll be my hidden pain.