“Moonlight Sonata” echoes from the phone and I hum along with it as I wipe my doll’s hands.
It’s her favourite piano piece. It’s grown on me, and it makes me think of her.
She’s still out. Maybe I put too much propofol in the syringe this time?
Well, I missed.
I was a bit angry all night.
Everything that I’ve done to be close to my doll is slowly withering away. That bitch Cynthia has always been a sore thumb since high school. Her only saving grace is giving birth to my doll.
Now, she and Sebastian think she can take her away from me?
He said we should divorce. I should move out. I can’t see her anymore. I can’t cook for her, wash her, brush her hair, kiss her, watch her fuck my son.
I’m not jealous of Cole. He’s always been an uninteresting doll, but he’s the only one who can make her eyes roll back and her lips part with so much pleasure. So I let them have it their way.
Even if they lock me out sometimes.
Now, because of Cynthia, Sebastian says I can’t live with my doll anymore. I offered him everything William left me with the sole condition that I stay with him — with my doll.
I was only going to keep watching from afar. I was going to brush her hair and kiss her goodnight and good morning and have her kiss me back.
That’s all I asked for.
I was even hurting other dolls to not lose my cool and touch her.
None of those sacrifices worked. She was going to leave me anyway. No matter what I did, she’d choose the bitch Cynthia over me.
I’ll kill Cynthia as soon as my doll wakes up and gives me a kiss. Then we can stay here.
She used to always come and cook with me here. She’ll love it.
Silver moans as she slowly opens her eyes. Those blue, blue eyes. Like my previous doll that I used to hide beneath my pillow as Dad loved me.
She’s better than that doll, though. Silver is more sophisticated, and her smile is more real.
“H-Helen?” She cradles her temple as she slowly sits up. “What happened?”
“You’re okay, darling.” I caress her arm, her soft skin, her porcelain doll complexion.
I’m the master of this doll.
So much pride fills me at the thought.
“I came here to meet Cole and…” she trails off, finally taking note of her surroundings.
We’re sitting on the edge of the pool.
Where it all started.
William’s death freed me. It gave me so much I didn’t know I could have.
It made me a genius. The type of person who can toy with people’s emotions through writing. I disguised myself in every character I wrote. People hated me, were enraged about my actions, but most of all, they were intrigued by me.
I was William. I was Sebastian and Cynthia. And, last but not least, I’m me and with my doll.
I always liked bringing my doll to the pool and bathing her in it.
We swam in it before, but I couldn’t touch her like I wanted to, because she was smart and she would’ve freaked out.
My son is smart, too, so I had to wear the mask I perfected so well from when I was in my father’s house.
I had to play on his guilt and love for me so that he’d forget about his infatuation with my doll, and let me date Sebastian, and eventually marry him.
Cole pitied me. He felt guilty because I got hit on his behalf.
I didn’t. I simply didn’t want to miss any of William’s beatings. I wasn’t protecting Cole. I was pushing the brat out of the way so he didn’t take what was rightfully mine.
My son is so intelligent; he takes after me, but he’s not at my level. Cole is a bit too blinded by my doll, so he misses the small things.
Like the stalker messages. He came to me for help, saying some wannabe stalker at school wanted to hurt my doll. I took care of him, of course, and I stopped the texts so he and my doll believed it all ended with Adam.
It never would.
My doll smiled for me when I first sent her those texts and she’ll continue to.
“Why are we here?” Silver appears more confused than suspicious.
“We’re going for a swim.”
“I…I’ve got to go.” She starts to stand but falls right back down again.
“Easy.” I stroke her cheek. “You’re still under the influence of drugs. I don’t want you drowning.”
Tears shine in her mesmerising eyes as the realisation starts to trickle in. “Helen?”
“Yes, darling? Although I’d rather you call me Master.” I frown. “My other doll was never really able to do that, but you’re better than her, aren’t you?”
Her lips part — those beautiful lips like a rosebud — and her hand shakes in mine. “W-what are you doing?”
“Your parents are trying to break us apart. Aren’t you sad? Because I am. No one can break us apart.”
She tries to push back, her fear rising and suffocating the air like grey smoke. I grab her harshly, and when she falls again, her head bumps against the tiles with a thud.
Silver shrieks as blood oozes bright red from the back of her head and on to the tiles. Just like William’s that day.
Blood is beautiful. It’s the truest human form.
“Silver,” I scold. “Look at what you’ve done.”
“Helen, please.” Her voice is wobbly as she grabs my hands while tears stream down her cheeks. “D-don’t do this. Think of Cole.”
“Why should I think of him? He should get his own doll and not share mine.”
“P-please…stop…”
I never thought I would love this expression — the way her lips tremble and how she’s pleading with me, how she’s calling me her master without saying the words — but I do.
So very much.
What can I do to deepen it?
Oh, I know.
I push her into the pool. She screams before her voice is swallowed by the water. The blood from her head engulfs the blue as she flails around.
I crouch on the edge, waiting for her to surface. Like William.
He begged me to save him. Then Cole came and I had to hide behind the tree.
Now, my doll will come out and beg me.
My doll will tell me please, Master.
Love me, Master.
Own me, Master.
And then she’ll smile at me.
