series masterlist link < click here
chapter three The Wind-Up Doll
summary All dolls break, but apparently, wind-up ones go first.
warning slut shaming, familial neglect/abuse, quarantine trauma, hunger thoughts lead to cannibalistic thoughts? (the usual)
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Mommy wouldn’t come for you. Not that she ever came in meaningful ways to begin with; whores don’t come, not for their children nor for their men.
All that comes out is someone else’s.
The child-addled voice of Ashley rang in your head. She haunted every crevice of your psyche, even as she was silent in slumber. Her exhaustion was contagious, but you could only blink languidly over her still form. “I let myself rot away for you,” You whispered, head tilted over her collarbone, which protruded in an ugly forward motion.
You allowed your fingers to travel deftly over her calves and inner thighs, tracing across bruises that bloomed across her pale skin. Her feet pushed against your hips as if wanting you gone. But you stayed despite the friction.
And you’ll grow up to be just like that—a slut counting her ones.
“We could eat you…” You began with a lithe voice, thickened with a sing-song quality. You dusted feather-light kisses over Ashley’s arms, kneading her taut and diminishing muscles with the tips of your fingers. Each hour Ashley spent with little to no food, the worse off she became. It was no secret that Ashley struggled the most in the thick of this starvation. But you were in no position to alleviate her pain.
You couldn’t even help yourself.
“It would be romantic, for you and me--” You paused, eyeing the door that would lead to a brooding Andrew who nursed his ego with a smoke.
I bought you this camera! Now you can star in your own snuff films!!
“Or maybe, you would rather feast on me?” It felt less like a question and more like a statement that needed no answer. You scooped the digital camera off the center console table, and you hummed while you checked its battery.
You brought the lens a breath away from Ashley’s face, “It has always been big brother Andy and Leyley against the world. Huh? I stand no chance—” You hit record. “Either way, Andy couldn’t possibly live without you. So, in this hypothetical, if you die first, why not let us live off of you? Wouldn’t you want that for us? We’ll eat you to preserve our lives. Utterly romantic, as Andrew would say.”
You watched a spasm work its way down Ashley’s left leg.
All dolls break differently, you learned a while back: porcelain cracks, and Barbie dolls lose their heads. Teddy bears get dragged through mud by children late to the school yard; their seams ripped and their stuffing left to collect outside their bodies.
Ashley was the worst type of toy—a wind-up doll, cranked all the way.
Therefore, she broke with stillness, and that was all this coffin brought to her. Within these confines, she became a whirl of dizzy spells and creaking limbs; the key that wound her up so tight and spurred her movements became jammed. Now slumber came to her easier than wakefulness.
She was not dying all at once, but in slow, quiet inches. Her gears rusted over.
You sighed after a great pause, “I’ll take that as a no.” You brushed off Ashley’s legs, no longer entertaining the hypothetical of cannibalising your best friend. You stood up on uneven footing, “I’ll cheer Andy up for you. Tomorrow, he won’t be mad at all. What are friends for anyway?”
Maybe you would always be the daughter of a used doll. The daughter of a seductive plaything… Some thrown-away object at the bottom of the Graves’ toy box—played with sparingly until it was all they had left to amuse themselves with. What a true reality that became—you were all they had left outside of each other.
You were as happy as one can be with this arrangement; they needed you.
However, once free, they could easily leave you behind. It’s a fate that has bored deep in your chest like worms eating through an apple core. When the time comes, the siblings may debate your worth, and you’ll sit as the little girl you once were and ponder your faults. Not realizing that they have already left you to suffocate under the weight of other toys, ones that yearned to be touched and sought after.
They can’t leave you behind. You don’t want them to.
That fate was who Nina became (a bitch in a box), and it’s what Julia would’ve become; choked on air made to vitalize them. Maybe that was all your existence was meant to be: a tireless fight for air.
One where you are gradually smashed through.
—
“NOOOO!!!!” Ashley welled. She had kicked her feet into the air, flailing them about like weapons with no aim. Anything and everything was a target in her blind fury. “I don’t want her sleeping in our room. It’s not fair!”
You huddled under the kitchen island, head buried in the flesh of your arm. Andrew hobbled past your form with your bookbag in tow. You glanced at the rabbit toy whose upper body popped out between the zippers. His head nodded off towards the door. Its one arm flopped over the Graves’ boy’s shoulder in a severe twist.
Mrs. Graves tore sheets out of the hallway closet with haste. She had bags under her eyes, and her groans were exaggerated. “Ashley! Stop. I told you, when she stays the night, she will be in your room.”
"No faaaaair-" The little girl drawled. "Let her stay on the couch!!!"
"And let that child have an accident on it? No."
"So, she'll pee in my room!" Ashley's cheeks turned red with heat.
"If she has to," Mrs. Graves rolled her eyes. "But, I assume she's potty trained…" The woman waltzed towards her daughter, depositing the linens over top of her head. Andrew wrangled Ashley from underneath the covers.
The little girl's arms spun like a broken windmill, knocking her fists against his head. The content of your bag threatened to take the young boy down as he stumbled out of range on unquilted feet.
"That's not the point!!! I don't want her here." The girl’s lips trembled with rage
Mrs. Graves flattened the blankets out on the ground. Her sigh took up space in the room. "It's not about what you want, Ashley."
“You all should prepare for bed. You all have school in the morning.” Mr. Graves trembled all over as if in a state of perpetual coldness. As quickly as he said a word, he slithered back into the comfort of his bedroom, leaving his wife to fend for herself.
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Thank you for reading! Request rules = here!
series masterlist link < click here
with everything vi’s new leaks have been saying… these doomed sisters can relate to each other so much they just gotta sit down and talk it out fr (i’m not delusional at ALL)
Big sister who gaslights lil bro into thinking he's unlovable.
"Why do you wanna be "better with girls" anyway? Girls are so shallow, you know? You don't have what most girls want in a guy anyway so don't waste your time. Might sound cold, but trust me, lil guy. I'm sparing you from future heartbreak and disappointment. And no, improving yourself is not gonna work either. They can tell if someone's a loser and you'll never wash the stench off. There's only one girl who will always love you JUST they way you are, and she's the only girl you need in your life. Understand?"
