|
|
|
STRINGS
Drip, drip, drip
I hear a sound and I slowly open my eyes to the surrounding darkness.
Drip, drip, drip
I don’t know where I am or how I got here but my head’s pounding.
Drip, drip, drip
I sit up and realize that I’m sitting in a chair; I touch the wood to feel that it’s rotting.
I stand up on wobbly legs and step forward, each step is strained.
The dripping sound has stopped, I noted. I move forward only to stop when I feel a
tugging feeling on my arms and legs. I stop to feel what’s holding me back and I
am surprised to feel thread. I pull a bit more and it pulls back. I start to panic; I don’t
remember how I got here or anything before that. The thread stops its pulling as if
almost sensing my turmoil. I start to move forward again. The soft, damp wooden
floor creaks loudly with every step I take, causing an echo in the otherwise silent
room. I stop when I feel thick ratty cloth in front of me. I rub the coarse material
through my fingertips and wiggle my finger through a hole. All of a sudden the
thread wrapped around me, yanks me back and I fall backwards but the thread
keeps me from falling all the way, keeping me in an awkward dangling position. It
pulls me back into an upright position and I watch in shock and a bit of fear as the
cloth in front of me pulls apart.
I realize that it is actually a curtain and that I’m on a stage. I can’t see what’s
beyond the stage because of the stage lights but I can make out what I’m wearing.
I am wearing black and white doll clothes with ribbons and frills. My white stockings
have black ribbons on the sides and my polished black shoes reflect the dim
lighting of my surroundings. My blonde hair is in intricate curls with a black silk
ribbon resting on the top of my head. My black skirt with white frills stops directly
above my knees and my black sleeves, which also have white frills, slips past my
hands a bit giving it a too big impression. I stop my inspection when I hear eerie
circus music play. I look around searching for the source but I can’t find it on the
empty stage. The thread pulls me again and I am dragged to the center of the
stage. A spotlight focuses on me seconds later. Spotlights appear all around me
trapping me in the middle. I hear the cackling of wood hitting each other and
moments later four wooden men fall from the ceiling and dangle from threads of
their own. I shriek in surprise and try to move away from them but my threads
forbid me from moving from my spotlight.
The wooden men are moved to spotlights of their own and I can see that they are
all dressed as jesters, each a different color and all are wearing masks. The one to
my front right is in the colors blue and white; the one behind him is in the colors
yellow and white. The ones that mirror their positions are in red and white and
green and white. My attention is pulled when a fifth man who is dressed in black
and white like myself stands before me and bows a deep bow. The other four follow
his lead and I find myself curtsying against my will. He takes my hand and kisses it,
his smile never leaving his face. The others start clapping and he takes my hand
and puts it on his shoulder then grabs my other hand and holds it up. The music
that was playing earlier starts up again and I find myself being led around the stage
in a dance. The other men do the same with each other and we all spun around in
circles. My partner never looked away and he was always smiling. It scared me
that I couldn’t see his eyes.
For hours we danced, his hidden gaze never leaving mine. The others started to
move as if they were drunk; they too were smiling the whole time. I can feel myself
shaking in terror; I don’t want to dance anymore or ever. I tell my partner this but he
just continues to dance and smile. I say it again and the others laugh. They start to
come close to me and my partner looks at them causing them to step back. He
looks back at me with his smile and holds my waist and hand tighter. I start to panic
and I struggle to get out of his grasp, I look up to see that he is no longer smiling. I
tell him to please let me go, that I don’t want to dance anymore. He lets me go then
and backs away. I am relieved and turn to thank him but freeze when I see his
angry face. I jump when I feel arms around me and I turn to see the blue man
holding me. The others join in, each holding a part of me. They are laughing and
they start to dance with me. They are violent in their drunken stupor as I am
yanked from one part of the stage to the other. I turn to him and ask for help but I
only receive a blank stare, devoid of any emotion. I start to fight them and they
become more violent, I start to cry and they laugh. The music is now fast and they
spin me over and over again. My threads start to tangle with theirs and in a last
attempt I scream for them to stop. The music stops and they collapse on top and
around me. I am crying really hard, my breathing erratic. I look up to see a pair of
black shoes and I lift my gaze to see him staring at me with a blank look still. He
snaps his fingers and the other four lift up and are pulled up by their threads, they
all are still and no longer show any signs of life. When they disappear back to
where they came from, he bends down to my level. I flinch away from his touch but
he ignores it and picks me up and cradles me in his arms against his chest. The
spotlights except for ours go out and he carries me back to my chair. My threads
make no protest when he puts me back.
I am still crying when he caresses my face in his hand. He backs away and I feel
myself getting tired. He backs up past the curtain and it closes leaving me in
darkness again. I can feel my tears rolling down my face and I can hear them hit
the floor causing a dripping sound.
Drip, drip, drip
I feel so tired.
Drip, drip, drip
I remember now.
Drip, drip, drip
I am the doll’s doll.
Drip, drip, drip <span id="test19207909">. . .</span><br/><div id="post19207909" style="display:none; margin-right:75px;"></div>
"If you come upon a white rabbit with strange eyes don't pick it up, it might follow you home."[/align:dc05cb05a2]
heart Draw my avatar please. heart [/align:dc05cb05a2]
 A Crooked Love · Mon Mar 31, 2008 @ 02:15am · 3 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
