Broken Dolls (12 page)

I shift uncomfortably and look at Lisa for support. She nods at me, motioning for me to interact.

“Sianne,” I try to sound soothing, but my voice trembles. “Did you used to work with the professor? Is that why you wear that lab coat?”

Her right eye widens, and her left eye twitches. “Don’t utter his name! Daniel! Daniel was his name. Yes, yes the professor. We used to experiment all the time. He showed me how to do things and I said… I said stop. I said
please
stop. And you know what?”

She pauses, waiting for me to respond.

“What?”

She leans closer, cupping her hands around her mouth. “He
didn’t
stop,” she breathes. “Obsessed. Obsessed with dollies he was. Still is.”

“But why did he put you away?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She throws her arms in the air, baring her teeth. “I broke the rules, didn’t I? I remembered
everything
. I rebelled. Look at her!” Sianne points at Lisa. “
She’s
rebelling! Now he’ll want to deactivate her! That’s just what he does! He knows everything you do and he
judges
everything. Don’t think he doesn’t know you weren’t at the ballet!”

My stomach lurches–but not metaphorically this time. I actually feel it churning and squirming. I instinctively cuddle my waist, desperate for the nausea to dissipate. “What do you mean?”

“He knows you went to the ballet,” Lisa says, emerging from the shadows. “And if you keep breaking the rules, he’ll deactivate you.”

“Or worse,” Sianne says. “He’ll put you away. Away in a box, just like me, forever. Staring into the darkness, wondering when and if you’ll ever see sunlight again. I didn’t speak until Lisa found me. The voices in my head were loud enough–I didn’t want to add another…”

“But how does he know I went to the ballet? I was concealed!” I shriek. Is this what hysteria feels like?

“He knows
everything
!” Lisa folds her arms. I can’t work out if she’s annoyed at
me
, or the situation.

“He’ll probably deactivate you when he sees you next,” Sianne says nonchalantly, blowing on the tips of her hair and sitting back down. “There’s a lot more, you know.”

I hesitate, not sure whether I want to know more. “A lot more what?”

“Dollies,” Sianne says, in a manner that is akin to an arrogant teenager sarcastically drawling ‘
Really?
You didn’t
know
that
?’

Oh boy, I really wish I’d never asked. I feel dizzy, flushed and… unwell. I fan my face and exhale.

“You’re starting to feel more human, aren’t you?” Lisa watches me like a lioness on the hunt. “The more dolls that are activated, the more we start to feel human. My throat and wrists have been aching really badly for the past few hours. The pain has increased over the last couple of days. I’m starting to wonder if the professor has activated another doll.”

I stop listening. I don’t want to hear any more of their conspiracy theories. All I want is to get back to Gabby and spend the little time I have left with her.

“Has Ella seen the closet?” Sianne looks at Lisa, who only shakes her head.

“She’s seen nothing.” Lisa’s tone drips with disgust. “I’m going to take her there now. Will you come with us?”

Sianne sighs and rubs her eyes. “The guardians told me I wouldn’t like it, not without popcorn, no way. But I’ll come. I’ve spent too much time away from my daughter.” She attempts to squeeze my hand, but I pull away. “Help me up!”

I reluctantly reach for Sianne and pull her up, startled by how short she is. She only comes up to my shoulder.

“Come on,” Lisa snaps, taking a left turn past the tower of boxes. Sianne holds my tutu and follows behind as we weave in the dark. We reach what I think is a dead-end until Lisa points towards the ceiling. I spot the door handle to a closet I’ve never seen before.

“How will we get in?” I grip onto my panic button. Lisa slaps my hand away and frowns. “Be careful!” she warns. “I already wedged this door open, so you need to help me nudge it wider.”

Lisa takes the lead by slipping her arm through the tiny gap between the door and the frame supporting it. Sianne and I copy her actions.

“Three… two,” Lisa counts. “One… push!”

We groan as we force the door open, just enough so that it swings on its own. I almost cheer triumphantly until I remember why I’m opening it in the first place.

I brace myself for what I’m about to see and slowly tilt my chin upwards to look inside the closet. Instantly, the nausea returns.

There are dozens of dolls, all lined up next to each other. They’re of different sizes, heights, hairstyles, races.

I try to be rational and tell myself that these are just ordinary dolls and not humans like me. I’m so desperate to justify what I’m seeing that I ignore the fact that these dolls are made in a style that is an exact replica of the professor’s.

“How do you know they were ever human?” I try to mask the horror in my voice.

“I don’t,” Lisa says. “But he hasn’t painted a positive picture of himself, has he? Now that you’ve met Sianne, the odds of these dolls once being human are probably a lot higher, huh?”

I turn my back on the closet of deactivated dolls and hold my panic button.

“Now for the real question,” Lisa drawls. “What are we going to do about this? I think I have an idea. Maybe you can get Gabby to help us out? She seems rebellious enough. Do you think you can do that, Ella?”

I stare at the button, Lisa’s words distant.

“Ella?” Lisa repeats, but I don’t listen to her. I feel like I’m possessed by another entity. Without giving myself a second to process the consequences, I press the button.

hat did you do that for?” Lisa screams.

“I need him to explain to me!” I clench my jaw. “I need to hear this from
him
!”

Lisa growls and grabs Sianne by the hand. The pair scuttles into the colonnade of boxes.

The professor doesn’t delay. The attic door bursts open, and he stands frazzled at the doorway. “Ella!”

“Down here!” I wave. I sense a moment of relief from the professor when he spots me, but that is quickly replaced with intrigue when he sees the closet door open. The floorboards creak when he walks towards me.

“Ella,” he begins slowly. “What is the meaning of this?”

I point at the dolls, my finger trembling. “Who are they?”

“They’re dolls.” He kneels by my side. “But they’re not special like you. I’ve always liked making dolls. You knew that.” He stands and reaches for a doll with bright blue hair and pink eyes. She’s wearing a costume shaped like a butterfly. He smiles at her fondly and brings her to my eyelevel. “This was the first doll I ever painted. Gorgeous, isn’t she?”

I inspect her, half-expecting her face to come to life. “She is. So she was never a human like me?”

“Never.” He places her back on the shelf. “Why would you think something like that? You have to tell me what you’re doing here.”

“Who is my mother?” I demand. “Tell me, right now. What was my mother’s name? What was she like?”

The professor sighs and takes off his glasses to rub his eyes. “Why do you do this to me, Ella?” He returns to his kneeling position and scratches his chin. “If you must know, her name was Amber-Rose. She lived in the country, several hours from here in a beautiful cottage that had three horses, two dogs, and daisies aplenty. She looked a lot like you and had your kind heart. She was stubborn–a bit like you, I suppose–and loved her animals more than she loved humans. I liked Amber-Rose…” His voice trails off.

I stick my chin out, a lump forming in my throat. His information is conveniently detailed–the makings of a glorious lie. “And how did you know my mother?”

The professor hesitates, opening his mouth several times before seemingly changing his mind. “I used to offer my services as a gardener, and sometimes she would call on me.”

“And is she still alive?”

“Ella, my dear,” the professor says softly. “Although you do not age, the rest of the world does. You need to remember that, even though you may possess the body of a twelve-year-old girl, you are in reality, a lot older.”

“How much older?” I fight the urge to cry.

“It doesn’t matter!” the professor suddenly shouts, his demeanor vastly different. “This is why I turned you into a doll–to protect you from all these lousy human emotions! You used to be so happy when it was just you and I! But now you’re acting like you did when you were human–always crying and complaining!”

My jaw drops. The professor notices my mortified expression and immediately lowers his voice, frantically apologizing. I shake my head and back away, slinking into the darkness.

“Ella! Please come back!”

“Go away!” I run into the tower of boxes. “Deactivate me! Do it if I’m such a nuisance!”

“I would never deactivate you, Ella,” the professor says sheepishly, dropping to all fours. “I didn’t mean what I said. I’m so sorry.”

I slump into a corner and block my ears. “Go away!” I scream, squeezing my eyes tightly shut. I don’t need to hear his spurious words. When he doesn’t respond, I crawl out of the shadows and glance around the room. “I mean it! You… you better be gone! You hear?”

The closet door is closed, and the professor is nowhere to be seen. I pick at my fingernails, a little stunned by his sudden obedience. The professor never leaves me mid-tantrum because he always feels the need to calm the situation.

Lisa emerges from the box tower, one eyebrow raised and her lips curled into a crazed snarl. “Bravo!” She claps her hands in a slow, sarcastic kind of way. She doesn’t stop until she crouches down to glare at me. “You’ve doomed us all. I hope you know that.”

“How?” I clear my throat to ease the shake in my voice.

Lisa scoffs, like she can’t believe I asked such a ridiculous question. “Now that he knows you’re suspicious, we’re
finished
! Consider this the last time I ever tell you anything. You’re on your own.” She turns on her heel and leaves me in silence.

I click my fingers together and stare at the blank canvas ahead of me. Lisa is right.

I’m on my own.