Broken Dolls (17 page)

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Authors: Tyrolin Puxty

BOOK: Broken Dolls
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I gaze at my mother. Her features are large and doll-like, and her head bobbles on her thin neck.

I grimly turn to look at Gabby, her glowing face slowly morphing into a pale, gaunt substitute.

The color drains from my perfect scene, until our warm Christmas is completely replaced with white walls, a beeping machine, and a doctor at the foot of Gabby’s bed.

he doctor is young–I’m guessing he’s in his thirties. His dark hair is swept to the side, and his coat looks a little too big for him.

“Prognosis?” The professor asks, rubbing his face.

“She overexerted herself.” The doctor makes a show of checking his chart. “With her condition, there’s no way she should be doing anything physical.”

“We went to the ballet a few days ago.” The professor’s voice trembles, and I feel like a heel. “Should I not have taken her?” Should I not have encouraged her to go?

“No, that would have been fine,” the doctor reassures. “I’m talking about running, climbing. She has a sprained ankle, and you said your neighbors found her on their lawn?” The professor nods so the doctor continues. “Excuse me if this offends you, but do you have cause to believe she was running away from home?”

“No,” the professor croaks, his shoulders shaking when he inhales. “No, everything was fine.”

“We see a lot of this behavior in our epidemic patients.” The doctor tucks his chart underneath his arm and tries to smile supportively. “Especially in the younger ones. They try to run from their problems–literally–and only end up here. Towards the end, they start having vivid hallucinations. One young boy was convinced he was a human trapped in a dog’s body.”

The professor raises his eyebrows and glances at me. I remain as still as possible, but I refused to let go of Gabby when the paramedics let her in. I held on for dear life and let the professor explain that I was Gabby’s doll and that I made her feel better when she was sick.

The professor slid Libby and Lisa into his coat pocket before anyone saw them. They squirm slightly now, but they should know better than to make a scene in public.

“Do all epidemic patients imagine they’re trapped inside another being?” The professor queries, keeping his eyes locked on mine.

The doctor shrugs, oblivious to my disgusted expression. “There are some reports of patients believing that they are inanimate objects, such as kitchen appliances, bikes, dolls.” He motions at me. “It’s sad, really. Gabby hasn’t experienced any such symptoms, has she?”

“Not yet,” the professor says. “So, will she be discharged soon?”

“Under normal circumstances, I would suggest that she stay the night, but considering the timeframe we are operating against, I would recommend gathering friends and family and making her as comfortable as possible at home. She’s stable, so I’m confident enough to release her. Just avoid physical activities,” he warns, then checks his beeper. “Oh, I have to go. I have been waiting for this consult. Just buzz the nurse if you need anything. She’ll be in shortly with the forms. Take care, okay?”

The professor hunches and puts his face in his hands as the doctor steps out. He sighs when I noisily scramble out of the gap between Gabby’s arm and side that I’m pinned between.

“Let me guess.” I yank down my tutu that has risen to my neck. “You’re going to take Gabby home and turn her into a doll just like Libby?”

“Don’t start, Ella!” the professor growls. “I’m not in the mood.”

“I’m not working around your schedule anymore!” I yell, pointing my finger at him.

“I’m the only one who can save her,” he whispers harshly, nervous eyes darting at the door. “Get back into your position. A nurse might walk in.”

“Turning someone into a doll doesn’t save them.” He just doesn’t understand, and oh, I’m so fed up with him playing God!

He leans in closer–so close, I see how large his pores are. And funny, I never noticed how light or bloodshot his eyes are. “
You know nothing
,” he hisses.

I scoff and settle back into Gabby’s arms. “You can turn me back into a human, can’t you?”

The professor doesn’t dignify this with a response. He merely reaches for the magazine on Gabby’s bedside table and flicks through it.

“I know you can!” I press, trying to find a way to catch him out on a lie. “Lisa said the process was reversible!”

“It’s not. And Lisa knows that. Nice to see you’ve been lying to me about seeing her, though.”

Like he should be talking. “Why are you keeping me prisoner? Change me back!”

“You won’t want to go back!” the professor barks, his lips quivering. “Please, trust me, Ella.”

I lie silently, unsure how to respond. It’s only when I look up at my motionless, sleeping little cousin that I speak. “Please don’t turn Gabby into a doll.”

The professor looks up from his magazine. “Sorry?”

“Please don’t turn Gabby into a doll,” I repeat dutifully. “It’s horrible being a doll.”

The professor… Daniel… sighs and cleans his glasses with the handkerchief he keeps tucked in the sleeve of his lab coat. “You really don’t know what I’m about, do you?”

“Of course I don’t. You never tell me anything.”

“Of course, he doesn’t!” Lisa’s voice is muffled, but she finally manages to poke her head from the professor’s pocket.

The professor pushes her back down. “Shut up, Lisa,” he speaks as if he’s lost the will to live. “You don’t know what I do, either. You don’t remember everything.”

“I remember enough!” Lisa snarls, poking her head from his pocket again. “Like how I was in this hospital before I woke up in your dingy little attic as a doll! I
bet
my human body is around here somewhere!”

It’s as if someone just hovered a lightbulb over my head. “Lisa… You meant to bring us in here…”

“Yeah,” Lisa says, her tone unapologetic.

“You knew Gabby’s condition was bad. You convinced her…
you convinced me
… to run away, and you knew her body wouldn’t be able to handle it. You knew we would be brought to the hospital.”

“Yep.” She smiles smugly. “And I have to say, I’m annoyed you didn’t believe that Sianne was your mother. You’re not as dumb as I thought. She can’t be trusted either, you know. She’s working with your precious professor.”

Thump
. It’s distant, but I feel a heartbeat in my chest again. Only this time, it’s a beat of frustration and anger. My hands clench into fists.

The professor rolls his eyes and pulls Lisa from his pocket, gripping her around her waist. “Pray tell, Lisa.” His tone drips with disdain. “How do you plan to escape from me and roam the hospital? Your body isn’t here, you know.” He pauses. “You’re far from it.”

Lisa squints and gnashes her teeth. “Liar!” Without warning, she pulls a safety pin from her shirt and jabs the professor’s thumb with it. It’s enough to make him yelp and release his grip, allowing Lisa to drop to the floor and sprint for the door.

The professor stands to chase her, but she’s already gone. His jaw hangs open while he stares after her. “Oh
crap
.”

“I think,” I say, sure that I’m mirroring his expression. “You’re allowed to say something much worse than that.”

“She has been
nothing
but trouble!” He clenches his jaw and swipes his arm at something imaginary. “I’ve only ever tried to help her!”

“What do we do?” I wrap my hand around Gabby’s finger.

“We can only hope someone finds her and smashes her in a moment of weakness,” the professor says darkly. He calmly resumes his seat and finds his place in the magazine.

“Don’t say that!” I stumble across the hospital bed, shocked by how springy it is. This has to be what being on the moon feels like. “We have to find Lisa!”

“You’re not going anywhere.” The professor turns the page of his magazine. “I’m done with her. If someone finds her, it won’t trace back to me. I’m sick of cleaning up her mess. Like I said, she’s beyond repair.”

“What does that
mean
?” I strangle the air with my hands. “Professor, I’m so confused! You’re not painting a pretty picture of yourself! You look like the psychopath who turns little girls into dolls for the fun of it! Heck, I’m not even sick and…” I trail off when the professor’s head shoots up.

“You’re not even sick?” he repeats slowly. “Where did you get that idea?”

“Lisa said…” I begin, although now I’m starting to feel stupid.

“Did we not just experience firsthand that Lisa is a liar and a manipulator?” The professor smirks and then starts to chuckle, almost hysterically. “Not sick! Ha!”

“Why is that funny?” I fold my arms defensively.

“Ah, Ella.” He wipes away a tear. “If only you knew.”

I don’t bother to ask him what he means. I know he won’t tell me. Settling back into Gabby’s arms, I lie quietly, listening to officious voices mumbling in the hallway and the professor leafing through the magazine too fast to actually read something.

Libby pokes her head from the professor’s coat pocket and stretches her arms. She yawns and glances around the room, batting her eyes. “What’d I miss?”

he professor’s blinks are heavy and slow. He keeps jerking awake when his head flops to his chest, but he won’t be able to keep it up for much longer.

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