• Dangerous Doll


    I like glittering things and pretty things
    As much as before
    But being cool and being tough
    Have become more important lately

    “I hate it.”

    The wine bottle was passed. Erin seized it, poured a generous amount into her cup, and drank it in one shot.

    “I mean it.”

    Sara glared at her, cheeks tinted pink. “Join the damn group, girl.”

    “They always expect me to be weak.” Erin spat out the word as if it tasted disgusting on her tongue.

    It probably did.

    “None of them want to try to fight me with me, inconsiderate assholes.”

    Beside her Cassie snorted. “You guys have it bad, don’t ya?”

    “You’re better off than us, Cassie. At least Sam acknowledges you!”

    Hannah accepted Sara’s offer of wine. “S- Sam—“

    “Don’t stutter, Hannah. You’re okay with us.”

    The girl blushed. A moment later she whispered,

    “I hate it too. I hate stuttering. I hate fainting every time I see Josh, I hate my father biasing me. I hate my family.”


    “That was beautiful, Hannah.”

    “Thank you.”

    You see? Times have changed so much

    But why do I still hear such words as

    "Tears are women's weapons"?

    “Is there an unwritten rule about woman having to be looked down by her male companion?”


    “Just because we are female, doesn’t mean we’re weak!”

    “No need to point out the obvious, Sara pig.”

    Said pig did not answer. Another round of wine passed.


    “Yes, Cassie?”

    Cassie hiccupped. “I don’t get it. I thought that your group was the most cooperative…”

    “Sara,Brendan, Jack? Oh, so maybe we are. But they all agree that I’m weaker than Blondy here.”


    Sara shrugged. “You got to admit, punching a man causing him to pass out is pretty cool.”

    “If you say so.” Erin tried to take it as a compliment.


    We don't cry easily

    We are not always coquettish

    We are not dolls

    Who are only dressed-up

    “Conclusion: Cassie’s the luckiest.”

    “I am not.” The mistress was oddly forlorn. “I don’t have a last name. Prejudice between families and non-families…people ignore me when I’m with Sam.”


    “Then it’s back to square one. The Family men don’t want a woman to be the head leader.” Hannah slammed the sixth bottle of wine on the table, making a crack.


    A plate was handed to catch the spill.

    “And,” Cassie continued, “Because I am female, they think I don’t know how to tell the difference from a book and a tv.


    “Same here. Derek always looks surprised whenever I beat the living crap out of idiot creepers.”


    Sara’s face was dark. “To them, we are dolls.”


    We have our weak sides

    We are not always smiling

    Don't forget

    That we don't exist to be convenient for you


    Stunned silence.

    “That’s horrible.”

    “Are you implying we’re as fragile as dolls?” Erin gritted her teeth.

    “I didn’t say that. First, what do you think they are thinking when they look at you?”


    Hannah answered. “Alex and Stephan are nice, really. I know they see me as a true friends. It’s the shitty family that’s the problem.”

    Two hours of drinking alcohol with moody women had taken its toll on the heiress.

    “Matt—I don’t even want to know what he thinks. Sam sees me as an equal…or does he?”

    “Brendan and Jack are both lazy asses, but there you go. I’ll send them both to hell if they think of me that way—Erin?”


    “Erin, are you alright?”

    The Blonde was somber.

    “I hate Derek Night.”

    Though it's certain

    I have a pain in my chest on some nights

    It might be true

    The more one experiences sufferings

    The more she can be tender and strong

    “To think I once liked him, even loved him!”

    “The point is—“

    “He’s such a sexist!”

    “Uh, Erin, that’s enough now—“

    “I’m so weak that I’m not worthy of his attention!”

    “Shut up, Erin, shut up now.” Sara was staring at the entrance of the bar.

    “I’m not finished yet! Am I still a puny twelve-year old in his eyes? Huh? Am I? Because I’m not! I’m freaking nineteen. I am not a little girl anymore!”

    Hannah was also staring at the entrance. “Oh no...Erin, please be quiet…”

    “I hate him. I HATE HIM. I’ll punch him into a marshmallow and drive a hundred knifes into his thick brain and rip off that light brunette hair and feed his fingers to piranhas and burn his limbs into a barbeque and kick him over and over again until he’s black and blue all over and—what are you guys looking at? And…and…oh.”

    Derek Night was standing in the doorway.


    Do you think you have controlled everything

    With a knowing look?

    We are not dolls

    Who are only dreaming

    “And what, Er-in?” His voice was a low purr.


    Do you think you have cheated us well

    With a satisfied look?

    Do remember

    That we are not such simple beings

    “I hate you.”