Authors: Tyrolin Puxty
“Ella?” The professor turns in his seat. “Are you okay?”
Gabby tickles my shoulder supportively as I hyperventilate.
“I was drowning,” I gasp. “I mean, it was a dream… oh, but it
couldn’t
have been! It was too real!”
“It
was
real,” the professor mutters, undoing his seatbelt and slamming the door behind him. He opens the rear door and scoops Gabby into his arms. “Libby, Ella–hold on to Gabby.”
We do–and bounce on her belly as he jogs through the house and up the stairs. I swallow another scream. Why is he so determined to get to the attic?
When he kicks open the creaky door and lowers Gabby to the floor, a sense of relief washes over me along with resentment. It’s dusty, it’s dirty, it’s my prison more than anything else. But it’s home.
Libby squeals with delight when the professor picks her up and places her into my treasure chest. She runs straight to my comb resting beside the mirror and begins to brush out the tangles in her hair.
Really? There’s Zen–and then, there’s Libby.
The professor hurries back and cups Gabby’s cheek. “Stay here, please. Don’t come into the lab.”
“Okay,” Gabby says. She rests her eyes, too tired and weak to protest.
The professor grabs the keys from the back pocket of his slacks and unlocks the door to his lab. I follow him and stand by his feet, a little unsure about how I feel about finally seeing his lair.
“Ella,” he says softly. “I don’t know how you’re going to react when you see this place.”
I look up at him, twining my fingers together.
“Please trust me,” he says. As if he’d been ever so trustworthy. “It’s going to be hard.”
My chest feels tight, that strange distant heartbeat making itself known again. I manage to give the professor a shaky thumbs-up, and he lets us in.
I can’t see much without the light on. I always imagined the floors to be like the ones at the hospital, but instead they match the attic–worn floorboards and peeling, brown wallpaper. It’s nowhere near as professional as I thought it would be. Towering over me are counters, Bunsen burners, and large tubes or tanks.
He walks in slowly, and I follow. It’s very dark, but the professor won’t turn on the light. Instead, he stands frozen in the center of the lab, staring at a corner.
I know what he’s looking at. It’s a tall figure–just under six human feet–typing on one of the many keyboards. Water drips from their waist-long hair, and their dark clothing sticks to their body.
The figure stops typing and slowly turns to face us. The glow of the computer screen allows me to see one side of her face, while the other is masked in shadow.
Mascara runs down her cheeks and settles by her nose. Her eyes aren’t aqua or purple–they’re a light brown. She has small lines beneath her eyes, and her eyebrows look thick and unkempt. When she sweeps her damp fringe behind her ear, fresh scars on her wrist zigzag along her skin.
“It’s nice to be human again.” Lisa’s voice is even huskier than what it was as a doll. She steps forward, but her knees nearly go out from under her. She quickly leans on the counter for support, knocking over a few beakers. It’s only when the beakers smash on the floor that I realize there’s a lot of glass that’s already been shattered. Where did all of these shards come from? “Although, I suppose you were right about one thing. My body
wasn’t
at the hospital. Sorry for dragging you down there for no reason.”
“Are your human memories returning?” the professor asks cautiously. “Do you understand why I did this to you?”
“Of course I remember!” She rolls her eyes, still bent over on the counter. I can’t get over how different she looks. Her face is a lot harsher, especially because of the way her skin crinkles when she frowns. “I mean, sort of. It’s coming back slowly. But just because I remember everything doesn’t mean I condone it! It’s sick, Daniel! You need to release Ella!”
“You have no right to speak on Ella’s behalf,” the professor lowers his voice and steps towards Lisa, glass crunching beneath his shoes. “What I do isn’t
sick
. I’m doing the right thing.”
Lisa scoffs. “I spent a lot of time trying to work out what you did. I found my way into this lab and I studied your notes. What an idiotic design–
smash the doll, and the consciousness returns to the body
.
Real
smart, genius.” She begins to pant, like she’s out of breath, even though she just stands there.
“You’re still weak, Lisa.” The professor raises his hands in an effort to calm her. “You weren’t supposed to return to your human body yet. It’s still healing.”
“I had to get out!” Lisa shrieks, slouching over the bench even more. “I didn’t understand what had happened to me! Don’t you see your experiment was failing? Ella said she started hurting, started
crying
! You overloaded the system because you kept adding too many dolls! We all started remembering and feeling things because you don’t know how to run your own lab!”
“Mistakes happen,” the professor says calmly. “But I can assure you whenever Ella began to experience pain or remember the accident, I would alter her subconscious to suppress the memories.”
“Professor?” I look up at him and bare my palms, physically pleading for answers. “What accident? What’s going on?”
He shakes his head. “Not now, Ella.”
“By all means, continue to lie to her,” Lisa says harshly, grunting as she forces herself to stand without the help of the counter.
The professor flicks the light switch and the fixtures come on, exposing the human-sized tubes in the corner. There are five of them, but one is empty and has a gaping hole in the middle. The other tubes are filled with murky water and… and…
EWW
… shadowy figures curled up like fetuses.
“What are
those
?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute,” the professor shushes me, his tone impatient. “Lisa, please come and sit down with me. We’ll grab a cup of tea and talk about this like adults.”
“That’s the thing, though.” Lisa grabs a micro spatula and twiddles it in her hands. “I’m
not
an adult. I’m a kid.”
Without any warning, she charges the professor, clutching the spatula like a knife. She’s tall–about the professor’s height–and he has trouble blocking and restraining her.
I scream helplessly and take cover underneath one of the stools. If only I could help! If only I weren’t a doll!
“Lisa!” the professor shouts, holding her by the wrists. She squirms out of his grip and tries to pierce his skin with the micro spatula. “Calm down! You’re being silly!”
“Shut up!” she yells, pushing him against the countertop. He stumbles and lands on his back, groaning and wincing in pain when he tries to move.
“Lisa…” This time, his voice is agonized, and my heart breaks a little.
“Stay down, old man!” Lisa rummages through one of the drawers. She pulls out a rope and tests it by wrapping it around her own wrist. Satisfied, she bends over to tie the professor’s hands. “And if you get up, I’ll knock you out.”
The professor rolls his eyes. “Real life isn’t like the movies. If you think you can knock me out for an hour so you can do whatever it is you want to do, prepare to be disappointed. If I’m unconscious for that long, I’d have severe brain damage.”
“Well, maybe that’s what you deserve.” Lisa fishes out duct tape from the same drawer and slaps a piece over the professor’s mouth. “Now where’s that dancing doll?”
I whimper involuntarily and stay hidden beneath the stool, curling into a small ball to conceal the bright colors of my leotard. Imagining Lisa as a doll is nowhere near as scary as what she is now.
“Ella?” Lisa coos, flipping the micro spatula in her hand like a baton, not even flinching when the sharp end slices her skin. “Come out, come out, Daniel’s precious.”
She drops to the ground and rests her cheek on the floor so she’s at my eyelevel. That reveals me instantly, and she grins, exaggeratedly motioning for me to join her. I shake my head.
“Ella, you’re not running anywhere, just so you know. I tied up your beloved professor to show you something. If you know the truth, you can do with it what you will. Does that sound fair?”
I hesitate. Lisa is so good at manipulating me–she always makes out like everything she says and does is in my best interest. Still, I need to find out how she became human again. I
have
to.
I reluctantly step forward out of the shadows and fidget with my fingernails. Lisa sits up and crosses her gangly legs, placing the micro spatula by her side. She smiles, this time more pleasantly, and straightens my tutu.
“Thank you,” I whisper, too terrified to speak any louder.
“Don’t be scared, sweetie. I remember everything now, and it’s worse than I thought. We’re not letting the professor turn Gabby into a doll, and you’re going to get the chance to become human again. Would you like that?”
I look up at Lisa with wide eyes and shrug. I’m getting the feeling being human isn’t everything it’s cracked up to be. “I just want everything to go back to normal…”
“Oh.” Lisa’s eyebrows arch, and her mouth forms a perfect ‘O’. She shakes her head and continues with more enthusiasm. “Good answer. Everything
will
be back to normal.”
We stare at each other in silence for a moment, and I get the strong urge to run away. I lift my foot to run, but I’m frozen in fear, allowing Lisa to determine my destiny.
It happens in slow motion, but I do nothing. Lisa stands, her shadow engulfing every shred of hope, of
choice
.
She raises her shoe above my head, and it hovers for a moment.
“It’ll only hurt for a second,” she says.
The pain lasts a lot longer than a second. I’m blinded by the view of the shoe crushing into my face and suffocated by the weight behind it. I hear myself bend and break and feel my body separate from my limbs.
Once the pain fades, all I can see is green.
y eyes sting when they flutter open. Misty green liquid cradles me. I try to breathe, but only choke when it enters my sinuses.
The sound is exactly like the underwater documentaries I watched–heavy with pressure.
I bounce helplessly and frantically scratch at the glass. When that doesn’t work, I clench my fists and pound away, but that doesn’t work either. I’m so weak, I can’t even move my legs to kick against the glass. Everything is slow in water. Slow and pointless.
“
Close your eyes
!” A muffled voice yells. Confused, I make out a dark figure outside the tube holding a… I think that’s a crowbar…
I try not to panic and shield my face from the incoming force. The crowbar smashes into the glass, and the water rushes through the jagged hole, taking me along with it. I land heavily on my back and roll onto my side, spluttering for air. I gulp the sweet taste of oxygen when the water absconds from my lungs–I didn’t know breathing felt so freeing.
There’s a strange cramp in my abdomen that seems to spread with each second. It hurts, but I ignore it the best I can because I have more important things to worry about.
My vision is blurry–and exceedingly painful, like I’ve never used my eyes before–and my clothes feel big and heavy. I instinctively go to stand, but Lisa crouches next to me and shakes her head. “Don’t move,” she says softly. “You’re not strong enough.”