Dancing doll
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Mercedes Marsh, Grade 9
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Short Story
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2006
Blonde hair dancing, the dance we used to dance. Now I dance alone. My limbs moving fluidly, kick, punch, block; eyes locked with the enemy. Waiting, waiting for the next move. His grin, plastered unnatural across his face, contorting so strangely evil and grotesque; like an animal, wild and disgusting. I see it, that dark glint in his eye, doesn’t care. Doesn’t care about my shoulder, the gash across my breast. I can see it, merciless evil. Dark and unyielding. I wonder sometimes. When we slow, and the dance becomes more laboured and less fruitless; I wonder fleetingly as the knife pierces the skin, if he sees the same in mine.
I was younger, a girl, when they came. Taunting me, telling me, teaching me. They shoved destiny into my hands, holding it over my head; my fate just out of reach. They gave me a watcher, his eyes following me but his arms never rushing to pity me. They gave me a trainer, bulky arms and hardened muscles I could never hope to beat, pounding me, yelling at me to be better, faster. Did they realise that they had beat me enough, did they see dead in green, hazel eyes. Not pleading anymore, worse broken. Shattered beyond repair. I was so young when they took me away; I was so young, so innocent. You repaired my wounds, tenderly wiping away darkened blood; you never gave me back my innocence.
I was a warrior to them, a machine to put into practice until it fell, it’s remains not even fit to be turned to scrap, I wasn’t a warrior to you. What was I? It was the first rule, they told me over and over again like you would tell an impotent puppy;
“Never fall in love” They screamed in my ear, hysterical and wild. I listened, obedient and compliant. Listening to their tales and promising them, promising myself, I would never betray them. Never disobey them. Then you came, every part of you from the darkness I had sworn to destroy, darkness I was becoming. You came and you held my hand, you lead me to the ledge. You where my everything, harmonious and beautiful in that dim light I lived. You muttered sweet words into my waiting ear, you promised me… I thought maybe you loved me. You took me to that ledge, we walked to that ledge. You took my hand, and then we flew.
Ask me how I got here, as I block and weave and dance. Ask me where that knife came from, the one that ended your life, which ended hope. Ask me questions you don’t need answered, don’t need given. Do you watch me? Do you watch me twirl and weave, dodging the steps of death for another night? I watched you, even when you never knew. Do you watch me dance?