I don’t think about it as my legs lead me in her direction. She doesn’t sense me, or rather, she can’t. Aiden always says I move silently. It’s because I learnt to tiptoe out of my father’s reach.
But I never tell him or Xander that.
We’re not supposed to say such things. We’re proper people with proper manners and proper secrets.
Once I’m behind Silver, I pull on her ponytail. She gasps, then cries out.
That’s what I usually do to kick her out of Aiden’s house when she talks too much. She screams at us that boys suck and I should go to a bad place.
No idea why I did it just now. I don’t really want her to disappear, but I also can’t ignore the habit whenever she’s in sight.
Silver lifts her head up, and when her eyes meet mine, they widen until they nearly swallow her face.
For a second, I stare at her, unable to do anything else.
I love that look.
I want to keep that look.
But how?
“What are you doing here, Cole?” She lets the doll — which also has butterflies on its head — drop to her lap and hides her face in her tiny hands. “Go away.”
I let go of her hair, annoyed she hid that look, and sit beside her. The big skirt of her dress could fit another person between us.
“Why are you crying?” My voice is quiet since I don’t know how I should speak to her.
“What do you care?” She sniffles. “You hate me.”
So she knows about that. “What makes you think that?”
I need her to tell me why she’s crying, because if I know the reason, I can use it and maybe I’ll be able to bring back the look from earlier.
Chaos.
“I just know you do.” She manages to get out through her sniffles. “And I hate you, too.”
“If you hate me, why are you hiding from me?”
“I’m not hiding! I don’t want you to see me crying. No one sees me cry.”
I fully face her, a smile on my lips. “So I’m the first?”
“Shut up and go away!”
“No.”
“No?”
“This park is for everyone.”
“Fine. I’ll go.” She removes her hands from her face. It’s still full of tears and messed up glitter, but the look from earlier is gone. She’s not surprised or taken off guard.
Why isn’t she?
“If you stay, I’ll tell you a secret,” I say as she gathers her doll.
“What secret?” She doesn’t attempt to move, her eyes widening again, but it’s out of curiosity this time, not surprise like earlier.
The dusk’s sun casts a golden hue on her hair and turns the blue of her eyes lighter and brighter.
“Are you sure you want to know? This secret will keep us together for life.”
“F-for life?”
“Yes, Butterfly. For life.”
She scowls. “Why are you calling me that?”
“What?”
“Butterfly.”
“You have one on your hair.” I motion at her dress’s waist. “And on your clothes. Do you want to fly like one?”
“I do.” Her expression brightens.
“Why?”
“Because, you know, they’re so beautiful and everyone smiles when they see them. They bring happiness and light.”
“They’re cockroaches with wings.”
“Shut up. Don’t say that about them.”
“There are some butterflies who die in a day.”
A crease forms in her forehead as she folds her arms. “You’re a meanie.”
“And you’re unrealistic.”
“I’m leaving.”
“I thought you wanted to know the secret? Or are you a coward?”
“I’m not a coward.”
“So you want to know?”
She nods discreetly. Silver might talk a lot, but she doesn’t like to ask for things. She also doesn’t like to put herself out there.
I noticed it in games. Whenever we play, she asks to go last so she can observe the others. Of course, she doesn’t, because I steal the last position from her every time. Aiden and I usually win against all of them.
Xander and Kim don’t care; they only like the act of playing games, but Silver always stomps out angrily, then returns the next day demanding a rematch.
“I’ll tell you if you tell me yours,” I say.
Her brow furrows. “Mine?”
“Why are you crying?”
She crosses her arms again while still holding her doll. “I’m not telling you.”
“I’m not telling you either, Butterfly.”
She glares at me, jutting her lip forward. It’s adorable.
It’s weird to think of someone as adorable on a day like this…I suppose. But since I met Chaos, I’ve realised normal was never for me in the first place.
Finally, Silver sighs. She stares down at her dress’s skirt and plays with the butterfly at the waist. “I overheard Mum and Dad fighting and saying they’re getting a divorce.”
Disappointment grips me like when those passersby found me. Why is it so boring? “That’s it?”
“What do you mean, that’s it?” Fresh tears pool in her eyes. “They always fight and scream and say mean things to each other. Now they’re going to get a divorce. I’ll be like Sally from class. My life will be divided between two parents and two homes. We won’t live together, have holidays together, or travel together and…and…I don’t want that!”
“Okay.”
Her head snaps in my direction. “Okay? I tell you everything and all you have to say is okay?”
“Yeah, good luck.” I start to stand, but she clutches me by the sleeve of my T-shirt, keeping me in place.
“You don’t get to leave, Cole.” She pulls me down with a force I didn’t know she had in her. I lose my balance and fall on my back on the bench.
The sting creeps all the way up my spine.
Silver straddles my waist, her big skirt covering us both as she places her palms on my shoulders.
If I wanted to push her away, I could, but I don’t want to. This close, I notice the tiny freckles lining her nose that I haven’t seen before. Tears glisten in her eyes, and the view from the bottom allows me to look at the clear contours of her shadowed face.
It’s…beautiful.
“You can’t leave. You’re the first one I ever told that. You have to take responsibility for it. Papa says everyone is responsible for how they react after they see things. If you ignore something bad, you’re a bad person.” A tear falls from her eyelid, straight on to my cheek, and drips to my mouth, making me taste salt.
“Who do you hate the most between them?” I ask quietly.
“I don’t hate my parents.”
“You must. If they’re fighting, one of them is causing it, right?” I pause. “In my case, my father does, and I hate him.”
I don’t know why I tell her that. Could be because I want to conjure that look from earlier, or simply because I want to say it out loud for once in my life.
“Why do you hate your father?” she asks.
“This is about you. Who do you hate the most?”
“I don’t hate her, but I don’t like M-Mum sometimes.” She stares away as if she doesn’t want to admit it.
“Why?”
“Because she dislikes everything and keeps telling me I need to act like a lady. I can’t play outside or invite my friends over. I can’t run to hug Papa when he comes home. I can’t cry or scream. So I do it here, you know.” She motions at the park. “I cry and scream here when no one is around.”
“She’ll want to take you when they divorce.”
She sniffles, her eyes doubling in size as she stares at me again, then she violently shakes her head. “No. I don’t want that.”
“When other adults ask you, tell them you want to stay with your father.”
“And…and they’ll let me?”
I nod. “That’s what Sally did. She chose her mum and they let her live with her.”
“Does that mean I’ll never see Mum? I don’t want that.”
“You will, but you’ll stay at home with your father most of the time.”
She draws a crackled breath, offering me a small smile. “Thank you. I’m glad you’re the first one I told this.”
“Me, too.” I get to see her like this when no one on this earth ever will.
Suddenly, a thought takes over me and becomes a need.
Just like the need I had when I wanted more chaos.
“Now tell me your secret,” she demands, still fighting with the remnants of her crying.
I grin. “I want to be your first.”
“My first in what?”
My thumb wipes the moisture under her eyes. “In everything, Butterfly.”
“Then I want your firsts, too.” She juts her chin. “Promise me.”
“Promise.”
Doll Master
Hello.
You don’t know who I am, but I know who you are.
I’m the monster under your bed and the bogeyman in your closet.
I’m the unknown.
You don’t see me unless you look for me, and even when you do, are you sure you’ve looked hard enough? Searched thoroughly enough?
Here’s something you need to know about me: I like dolls.
Or rather, one particular doll.
My father didn’t let me play with dolls. He said he didn’t like them and they weren’t for me.
So I hid my doll and proved him wrong.
Now, I’m proving everyone wrong.
Including you.
This is the story of my new favourite doll after I lost my most precious one.
I didn’t believe in love at first sight until I saw her.
And I mean, all of her.
The porcelain skin, the baby blue eyes, the golden hair, and the pink dress with ribbons and tulle.
It’s like she was made for me.
She was.
My own doll. My special doll.
I was broken the first time I saw her. I was about to make a decision I’d regret for the rest of my life, but she showed up. She was there, beautiful and crying, and I knew I had to keep her.
I already had a doll before, so I hadn’t paid her any attention.
Now that my doll is gone, I finally see her.
Crying, speaking.
My previous doll didn’t do that. Not really.
Her golden hair camouflages her face and hides her from the world, but eventually, she’ll be completely visible to me.
There’s an art in being a doll master. You get to see and notice things no one else sees or notices. Not even the dolls themselves.
Masterpieces in the making.
I can recognise a masterpiece even before it’s fully formed. That’s why I’m the best doll master you can ever find.
That is, if you can find me.
You can’t.
And neither can she.
I’ve mastered the art of deception, of hiding, of being invisible.
Sometimes, even I don’t see myself.
Even I find trouble in recognising what I’ve done. What I can do.
My limit has been myself, but today, I’ve let go of the last shackle.
Now, I have a new doll. My prized possession.
Silver. My beautiful little doll.
Welcome to my world.
You’ll find it fun.
Eventually.
Oh, and don’t search for me. You won’t find me until I let you. And when I finally show up in front of you, all you’ll be able to do is shatter into bloody pieces.
I smile at the thought.
Time to start my homework.
Run, doll.
Hide.
And don’t ever, ever look under your bed.