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As Annie was about to grab the scissors, she heard the front door open.
“Oh no, I need to hide you,” whispered Annie then she started looking around the bedroom for a place to hide me.
“Annie are you home? Where are you brat?” said a threatening female voice. Then I found myself under a pillow barely being able to hear anything that is being said.
“Hello____ how was ___ day?” Said Annie
“Don’t act so _____ child. Why haven’t _______ done what you______ should __ done? What is ____place? ____ likes a pig sty, do ___ a retched, ____ for nothing _____ child live in a ____? Is that what____ want every ____ to think your____ family lives in? Clean this ___ up NOW!!!” said the threatening voice
“Ok, ____,” said Annie in a feared voice. Who is this voice? Could this be the reason for her to keep me a secret? The reason that I was shoved into her dress, under the pillow and be kept the biggest any 5 year old could ever have? If only I was a human or man like she and everyone is so that I am able to take action and defend my… friend like what I believe is the true job of a friend. Silence came to the house. Nothing was said, and if something was said, it was too quiet for anyone to be able to hear from under this pillow. It felt like ages before any sound was made. Out of nowhere the door screeched again and then closed shut with great force as if closed in anger with great strength. The sounds of little footsteps filled the house becoming louder and coming closer. The pillow was lifted and was struck with the blinding light of the room then saw the face of a little girl, Annie. She grabbed me from the bed, brought me to her chest and held me in her arms squeezing me tight with great emotion. This emotion the way she is holding me, it is like one would do to someone which they haven’t seen in ages and that there is an emotional connection, like a mother, father, family member, or a lover which I have none of those. Seems like it is also done to a friend, but why such a passionate hug? It hasn’t been a whole day since I last saw her. What happened to her while I was left blind, and nearly deaf under the pillow? Who was that voice that spoke so hostile to an innocent little girl like Annie? As I was pulled away from her to see me, and I to see her, there was a smug on her left cheek, as if someone rubbed coal on her cheek. On her right cheek nothing but red, like if strawberries were to have smeared on there but with streaks that go from the end of her cheek to the beginning of her ear.
“So my butler, ready for your make over and your new butler clothes?” said Annie but with a smile. The smile without a care in the world, as if nothing had happened before, like the one she had when she saw me. After hearing all this you still have a smile? What happened? Why have you been strucken on the face? Who was that women that spoken ill to you? Why do you act as if nothing has happened on the scene of a beating which was in your own home? The questions I would have asked if I were to have a voice of my own, the action I would have committed mealy thoughts for I can’t move on my own. If I was a real friend I would have conferred you and shielded you, this would have occurred, if I was real, my actions would speak louder than the words that were spoken to her.
“Now, now, butlers wear black, time to grab this black cloth” she said going through the pile of crafts that were now on the floor. “But how are we going to put the cloth on you and see your measurements?” Don’t you think about cutting my strings, I need them to move and to do everything. Without my strings I would be nothing but one of those stupid idea called dolls, but be made out of wood. Annie reached out for the scissors on the floor and started cutting. The cloth that was my shirt, the one that was my pants and at last, my strings. The pain of seeing the strings that were a part of me being cut off could only be described as the moment when I was being made. The shop owner had previously made my head and was working on my body. As she started cutting the wood that was to be my body to link all my limbs and head, he moved his saw too far and one of the limbs from his hand came right off. As that piece fell to the ground, it was followed by a stream of paint leaving his hand and a stream and droplets of water leaving his face. As I lied on the table, nothing but pieces of wood, Annie was off on another table with the cloth, scissors and needle at hand only to stop and look back at me with a smile. The light coming in from outside, when from orange to black when she finally stopped. She grabbed and brought be to where she was working and wrapped my torso in the cloth and slid my legs through pants. The open torso was then sown tight by her tiny hands and she tied my strings where they correctly belong. I now have the attire to become a butler.
“How do I look Annie?” I asked curiously unable to see myself.
“You look great, like a true butler of the queen,” she said, “and do you know why you look great?”
“Why do I look great?” I asked
“Because I made your clothes silly,” she giggles and grew to a laugh showing teeth whiter than her hands. From that day on we had nothing but adventures both in the world in her mind and in the world outside of her house. We would both go out to the shops and see new people and create another world with in that world. There would be days where Annie would have to hid me and be visited by the female voice. She would either just threaten my poor Annie or gift her with marks on her face or body. After 60 nights we went to see the shop owner because he wanted to see in what condition Annie has kept me. When he saw me, the smile he had was bigger than any that Annie had ever shown. This day wasn’t one just to visit him, this way was the one where Annie had finished paying him off and I am now truly Annie’s. The shop owner happy to finally be paid completely gave her some additional clothes for me. Both me and her happy with these gifts went back home. It seemed that everything we passed was just a blur; Annie was running home faster than the day she brought me home. Once we reached the door, Annie reached straight for the door knob. As she was doing that I heard a noise coming from inside and realized that I wasn’t hidden and could see the door being opened by her wondering if it is actually safe for us to not hide me. One we were inside and the door was shut we heard the voice and I could feel Annie’s breath and heart beet just drop.
“Where have you been you horrible excuse for a girl?” said the voice which was coming from an old woman. Her hair went down from the top of her head tangled and just messes with streams of white everywhere like a pattern. Wrinkles cover her hand and face while her body is covered in worse rags then the ones I came with. Could this lady be the one that has been doing all this bad to my Annie? What business does she have with Annie to be doing all the things that destroy her smiles and her body?
“Where did you get that thing, who did you steal it from?” pointing at me with great disgust
“No one mommy,” said Annie terrified, holding me closer and tighter not wishing to let me go. “I bought him from the shop”.
“What makes you think you can buy trash? After being left with you stupid father’s debt from gambling and borrowing money from the wrong people, you think we have money to spend on your happiness?” This retched being is her mother. This is why she said that her mommy wouldn’t let her keep me. The story of the debt and gangsters, it was her father. Even if they are in debt, what gives her mother the right to beat her girl, and not care about her happiness?
“Time to get rid of this trash you brought into the house,”
“No, you can’t take him, he’s mine, he is my friend.”
“Friends are good for nothing. Who needs friends? It was your stupid father’s friend that told him to borrow money from those gangsters. That is no friend that just is pieces of wood and string that… IS THAT MY CLOTH ON HIM?!” she asked furiously reaching for me. Annie turned away so she wouldn’t grab me. Annie what then grabbed by the hair and thrown across the room as I was dropped on the floor. Her mother coming towards me in rage able to see the anger in her eyes, burning hotter the fire that kept this house warm. Annie stood up ran towards her to try to stop her from reaching me. When she saw Annie get up, she reached for a pan and swung it. Annie was struck in the head and fell. Her body lay on the floor motion less like my own. Stream of red started flowing from the point of impact like the shop owner’s hand but no scream, no droplets, just a stream from what seemed like a lifeless body. The enraged woman grabbed me and threw me out the door to the middle of the road. I am sorry my friend. I was not able to do anything. I guess that hag is right, I can’t be a friend. I am not real, I can’t do anything. It was my fault that this happened to you. I guess that beast is right; friends are good for nothing and bring nothing but trouble. I am sorry Annie for not being real or at least anything else but your friend. As I lied on the ground white droplets fell from the sky. I guess the sky is alive and feeling some pain. Was it a friend that is making the sky feel pain? Maybe she should get rid of her friend before streams of red fall from her too. The white kept falling and covered the squishy brown road I laid, turning it white and soon consumed me within its pain seeing nothing but white laying motionless for I have no life only hoping that Annie is able to move again and lives her life without a friend or anything like me.
- by Fausts Lost Mind |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 05/07/2013 |
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- Title: My Lifeless Story
- Artist: Fausts Lost Mind
- Description: WARNING !!!! This is part 2 of the story, so is this is your first time seeing this title go and read part 1. I am aware of some grammatical and spelling errors, just Chillax and enjoy part 2 of my lifeless story
- Date: 05/07/2013
- Tags: lifeless story part2 puppet friend
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