Broken Dolls (13 page)

o, maybe, I’m not as alone as I’d like to be.

Sianne has decided to take over my chest. And I mean
take over
. I found her five minutes ago, sitting on my bed cross-legged and meditating. For some bizarre reason, she even found toilet paper and threw it around my room.

Sianne
actually
teepeed the chest.

“Excuse me?” I tiptoe closer to the bed to grab her attention.

“Hummm…” she chants, her eyes closed and her nose upturned.

I groan, too annoyed to be polite. I shake the hinge where her knee should be, and her eyes spring open. She screams dramatically, her fingers suddenly bent like claws.

“Don’t
do
that! I was in the Sahara Desert!” She yells, her beautiful posture now slumped. “You don’t just pull people out of the Sahara Desert! I’m grounding you!”

“Well, for starters, I’m sorry for ruining your Imagination Time. I know how frustrating that can be. And secondly, I’m not your daughter, so you can’t ground me. And thirdly, I’m locked in an attic, so I don’t think grounding me will be satisfying.”

“Cocklewuff!” Sianne uncurls her legs, ripping the toilet paper that hangs by the bed into shreds. “Ungrateful child! Ungrateful dancing dolly!”

I gently place my hand on Sianne’s to stop her from tearing the toilet paper. “Sianne, please stop messing up my room.”

She stares at me, her eyes practically bugging out their sockets. She lowers her hands and rests them in her lap, pursing her lips. She looks like a cat that’s been sprung doing something naughty.

“I’ve stopped…” She says slowly.

“Good.” I mimic her tone. “Now, Sianne, could you please tell me who you are?”

“Your mother,” she replies glumly.

“But you’re not.” I sit down next to her. “I’d know if you were. Even though I don’t have my memories, I’d feel that mother-daughter bond thing. But I don’t feel anything for you.”

“Nothing?” Sianne asks, deliberately making her lower lip quiver.

“Maybe frustration,” I reply honestly, straightening out my tutu to avoid eye contact. “How much of your past life do you remember?”

“Most of it.” She wiggles her finger around my nose. “All of it, actually. Bah-humbug. Stupid Christmas. Gah.” She suddenly clasps her hands over her ears. “I know
all
about my past! But my brain won’t keep it together! I’m not mad! It’s when I became a doll! Fix my brain! Make it stop!”

“I don’t know how!” I yelp, panicked when Sianne drops to the ground and scratches at her forehead. “What are you doing?”

“Getting the madness out!” She shrieks, furiously clawing at the plastic. “It has to come out!”

“Please stop!” I grab her wrists. She twists so that her feet are by her head, writhing messily as she tries to hit her head with them. “You’re a doll, Sianne! You’ll break if you carry on like this!”

“Breaking means I can escape! That’s what my brother said!”

I pause, wondering which statement I should question. “Who is your brother?”

“Daniel. You know, the professor. Dumb dolly.” Sianne suddenly stops scratching at her head. Instead, she gasps and crawls backwards into the corner. “I wasn’t supposed to tell you. Are your memories flooding back? Please say no!”

“You’re the professor’s sister?” I clarify, jumping over my bed to chase Sianne who is crawling from one corner to another. The stupid toilet paper keeps getting in the way, and I have to slash through it to get to her.

“Say your memories aren’t flooding back!” She screams, rocking next to my mirror.

“They’re not coming back,” I say calmly, raising my hands as if to surrender. “Why did you tell me you’re my mother?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She sniffs, wiping away real tears. “It’s to put you off the scent! You can’t know what’s happening!”

“But I
don’t
know what’s happening!” I wade through the toilet paper until I’m standing over her. “Did we know each other in our human form?”

“Of course we did!” She snaps, curling into a tiny ball. “We all knew each other! The professor, you, me, Lisa, Gabby… Well, maybe not Gabby….”

I shudder. The idea of knowing Lisa as a human is upsetting. I can’t imagine us once being friends.

“I lie a lot. Most of us dolls do,” Sianne adds. “Our brains snap. I wasn’t
really
locked in that box for long, not long at all. Hmm. Or
was
I?”

Sianne starts to chant nonsensically, whistling and popping her mouth.

“Sianne,” I say slowly, carefully phrasing my next question, “why hasn’t
my
brain ‘snapped’ like yours or Lisa’s?”

Sianne rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say the professor takes care of you. He’d never let
yours
snap. Also, you haven’t been a doll for as long as you think. You have this weird set-up with Daniel. Weird, weird, Black Beard’s beard. Said don’t look, but oh, you peered!”

I shake my head to clear it. “And he sent you to make me believe you were my mother?”

“Yep. He thought it would make you happy. You’re happy, right? Well, to distract you, too.”

“Distract me from what?”

Sianne points behind my back. “That.”

I struggle to see in the darkness, but it’s the professor sneaking into the attic. He’s carrying something into the lab. An odd-shaped bag? But bags don’t wear frilly dresses or sandals. Bags don’t have dark skin and full lips. Bags definitely don’t have limp arms and legs.

Bags are definitely not Libby.

ho’re you?” a voice asked from behind him.

I don’t know why, but the first thing I do is rush straight to my recorder. I press down on the button and speak quickly, my words running into one another.

“Recorder, the professor just took Libby into his lab. She wasn’t moving or breathing. I don’t know what he’s done to her. I have to tell Gabby so we can escape!” I hit the stop button and run.

I don’t even remember crawling through the mousehole and rushing downstairs. The only thing I could think of was getting to Gabby.

I found her sleeping angelically in the painfully bland bedroom. I scramble up the sheet hanging by her bed and crawl onto her chest.

“Gabby? Gabby! It’s important! Wake up!”

She doesn’t even flinch.

“Gabby?” I’d be worried, but she’s definitely breathing–I keep rising when she inhales. “The professor killed Libby! He’s taking her to the lab! Wake up!”

My voice is quiet compared to a human’s, but I’m yelling as loudly as I can. Surely, she should start to stir. I climb up to her face and push her eyelid open, which only
splats
closed again.

I glance at her bedside table, wondering whether turning on her lamp might wake her. It’s only when I jump onto it that I notice an opened pack of sleeping pills and a glass of water beside her bed. Of course. I have no chance of waking her now…

I can’t help but naturally duck for cover behind the lamp when the light switch by the door clicks and illuminates the room.

Gabby doesn’t even respond to the professor, who stands in the doorway, masked in shadow.

“What do you think you’re doing, Ella?” I’ve never heard his voice this deep before.

I don’t take my eyes off him. Who knows what he’s capable of?

“I’m leaving, professor,” I say, my voice shrill and unthreatening. “I need to protect Gabby. We need to get away from you.”

The professor turns off the light. He walks towards me, his slow steps matching his chuckle.

I freeze, not sure where to run. He grabs me and shakes his head.

“Now I have to wipe your memories,” he huffs, automatically stroking my hair. Condescendingly, Gabby called it. “I already have so much work, as it is. Yes, I’ll only wipe the last fifteen minutes. That should do.”

never want to stop dancing. Never. Aerial, split leap, pique, pirouette. Repeat at double speed.