Emily
Via Jo-Anne Teal, I happened to catch a short fiction challenge featured on Laura Jamez's blog, Office Mango. I was too late to enter it, but I was inspired to write an unpleasant little flash fiction piece based upon the photo of a thrift store doll, and I offer it here. Definitely going to revisit Laura's blog, though.
Since flash fiction seems to be all I have time to write these days, I figure it had better be good. Or at least have some kind of emotional heft, kick like a short-lived mule on a sunbaked, fly-swarm August afternoon. Oddly enough I kept adding words, thinking I must be below the two hundred minimum. When I finally checked the word count, it was actually dead on the maximum of three hundred! Weird. I usually have nothing but difficulty with word counts, so this made me think it was an omen and I'd gotten something right for once.
Anyway, try not to hate me for the content of this dark little tale. It doesn't come from me; I'm merely the pipeline not the well. Or something.
Emily
If it hapens agen, this is what I will do to my baby brother. Mommy was about to make me my favrite milkshake—banana and strawbry—when the sound of my brother wailing like he'd been locked in a room full of bees came from upstares.
While Mommy left the ice cream and fruit on the kitchen counter and went to check on him, I went to my room, got out my doll, Emily, took all its stupid cloths off and did this to its leg and its arm. I will do it to Carl next time. Break one leg and pop out one sholder. I saw on a hospital show my daddy was watching how babies sholders are easy to… I can't remember the right word. Begins with a "D." But I know it means to pop it out because it hapened at preschool when Maddy yanked Sophie's arm out of its sock-it and that's what I heard a teacher say: "it just popped out." It was a aks-i-dent, they said.
I love my brother and he's very cute but he doesn't come first; I came first, and he needs to lern that. If he lerns it, we'll be a good brother and sister, very hapy in are famly to-gether. But if he ever stops anything good hapening to me agen, this will be how it starts untill he lerns. Not only that but I'll make shore I do it at the bottom of the stares so it looks like he felled. May be give him a few bruses first. Like a aks-i-dent.
Looking at my doll with that leg all sticking out and busted makes me wonder if it would make a sound like when Daddy pulls the leg off from the thanksgiven turkey. Gess I'll find out.
Reader Comments (7)
I don't have the words to say just how much I loved this.
Oh Laura, thank you so much! It wouldn't have existed without your blog and the fine writing I read on it.
This is an awesome piece, D. Just the right amount of creepy. And now I am scared to sleep in my house - we have lots of dolls in various states of dishevelment ...
Whoa! Powerful stuff, D.
Dolls are indeed creepy, it's true.
Thanks again, y'all. Always nice to know these mad words get read.
It almost makes you revive the notion of innocence in childhood. Fantastic use of the creepy doll thing as a vehicle to to illustrate this. I thought it was pure dead brilliant, Daw
Gordon, in the immortal words, "innocent of what?" But yes, childhood is a dream that can easily turn bad as the filters aren't yet working. Appreciate the comments.