Scissors and Dolls
It was that time of day; the time where I can cut her up. I don't get why every one finds it wrong to cut dolls. Maybe it's because they don't know why I'm doing it? Well it's there loss. I opened the drawer to pull out my favorite pair of scissors I then went to my shelf and grab the doll with long brown hair and red dress. I smiled to myself. I then closed my eyes to think of her. I then opened my eyes to see the doll I was once holding turn to a miniature her.
I then griped the scissors a little tighter as I placed the bladed part of the scissors on her stomach and slowly…
Such a nice sound; like music to my ears. The white stuffing stared to flow out. You know stuffing and blood are quite alike. I smiled imaging her bleeding from the wound; I pulled the scissors down.
How does it feel? If only you where really her. But, I killed you already…right? I stared at the dolls big black button eyes, I scowled. You can never really replace that feeling of killing can you? I shock my head.
No, no, no this kind of thinking is unacceptable. Brother wouldn't want me looking so down. But then again it was her who made brother forget who he is… I'm a bit glad he forgot that event; I needn't burden him with something like that. But yet I'm still sad that he forgot about me…
But it's not my fault that he forgot it's hers, it's all her fault!
I looked at the doll in my hands with you couldn't recognize anymore just pieces of fabric and stuffing I scowled at it and tossed it aside. I then grabbed another doll and thought of her horrid face again.
Okay hope you like another random dabble. I'm actually a little surprised that I wrote something for Vince; he's not the kind of character I would write about… oh well. Please review.