A Dull Doll

Nothing catches my attention better than a motherly voice in the morning. She knocks my door and saying good morning, reminding me to wake up and be ready for school. I'm in senior high school, third grade to be exact. Just one more year and I'll be free from all of this shit. Yet, I feel so far and the time running slowly.

I take a quick shower, dressing decently, and tidying my hair. I like to use a plaid shirt, combined with jeans and worn-out sneakers. Nothing beats the comfy.

I look at my reflection in the mirror. Some people said that I'm an oddly beautiful ginger. Mother said I'm beautiful too. My wavy red-orange hair is the prettiest (She said). I have some disgusting freckles in my nose and cheekbone, I inherit dad's green eyes, and maybe that's why mother wants to gauge my eyeball. I'm quite tall, and like mother, I'm quite thin, but for some, they said such thing as curvy. Well, I've never gained an excessive weight from eating. About my skin, Mother loves to poke me with blood on her finger. She said my skin is so white, like a canvas, it is tempting to get 'colored.' Yeah, so white, I almost blend with the snow in the winter.

I pick the backpack that hanging behind the door. Mother knocks the door, demanding me to be quicker.

There are two things that I noticed in my breakfast. Bread and jam. However, red jam is not common in here. I've never remembered buying a strawberry jam, ever. I glare at mother. Suspicious, I put the tip of my little finger in the jam. It is thick and red. I have a bad feeling for this jam. I take a little taste of it, only to regret it by nearly throwing up everything inside my stomach. It is a fucking blood jam. I can feel the weird taste of salt, iron and sting sensation on my tongue.

I immediately look at my sister, who is ready to take a bite. I take her bread and throw it on the floor. I snatched the jam jar and throw the jar in the trashcan. The rushing blood inside my vein makes me panicked a little. My sister is looking at me, confused. Sitting beside her, mother smiled at me. She smears the blood jam on the bread and eats it like it is nothing. I watch in disgust.

"But, I want the jam…" Alska starts puffing her cheek. "I don't want to eat a plain bread!"

"No! You're not going to eat that thing!" I shout at her face. She falls back for a second. I think I scare her, her eyes start pooling with tears.

"You scared your sister," mother said that with the calm and relaxing tone. "If she wants the jam, you should give it to her," again, mother smiled at me. She is so calm, despite the fact that my little sister is crying beside her. She doesn't even try to comfort her.

I take my backpack and walk away. Her smile disgusts me. I decide to walk to school. I lived in a residential area. Well, a quiet residential area, because the price of one house is expensive and nowhere near any strategic place. Nearly half of the houses left untouched, so it's all habited by tall grass and spiders. Sadly, every house near mine is always tall grass and friendly spiders. We've never got any neighbors.

It will probably take one hour to reach my school by walking. The fastest way to go to school is going with mother. That's a big no for me. Since I knew I'd be late for school, I hurry and stride faster, with my eyes wandering around the empty houses around me. They're all the same, big house with two floors, a big front yard, one carport, and large backyard with a small pond. It is identical with my house but dusty, and creepy. Well, it is nowhere near creepy when people know what is inside my house.

I acknowledge one house with nice garden and green grass, differing it with the other houses around. Identical house, but it is already repainted to blue. It is all blue, and even the door is painted blue. In the terrace, I can see Mrs. Dowle sitting in her rusty chair. She is an old widow. I want to stop and greet her. It's been a long time since the last time I step inside that blue house.

"Morning, Mrs. Dowle!" I shout in front of her gate. She gets startled and nearly falls from her rocking chair. She looks around her left and right. I notice her bad eyesight. It seems like her vision is getting worse than before.

I don't have time to wait for her to notice me. I rush immediately and left her confused.

I look at the time on my flip phone. It is half past eight. I think I will be late for fifteen minutes. I start running. This busy road doesn't help me at all. Bump. Bump. Bump. I keep running until I get exhausted.

I make it to school with a heavy breath. It is a quarter past nine. I wash my face in the closet. The sweat in my face has been washed up. However, the freckles are still there. I wish the water would take it down, like dirt.

There is no one in the corridor, except few janitors. I give a little smile at some of them. They are friendly. I don't understand why many students don't befriend the janitors in here. I mean they're the one who cleans your trash. Seriously, that rich only trend in my school is awful.

Oh yeah, the teacher doesn't let me in. Since I'm late and she doesn't take any excuses. So, I stand in the corridor, watching janitors do their work, and staring at the blank wall. Nothing tedious about this, I swear.

As I blankly stare at the wall, one voice snaps me out of my daydream. I look at my left. Just a student with too much gel in his hair, weird pink-green striped shirt, and skinny jean. I mean it is a really tight jean. He stares at me with his bright blue eyes. Yet, I find it so unimpressive.

"Hey, why are you in here?"

'Stupid piece of shit, of course, because I'm late.'

"Um… I'm late…" I answer it reluctantly.

"Mind if I stand with you? Mr. Baker doesn't let me in. He said my clothes are inappropriate. Stupid, right?" his arrogant tone makes me wants to punch him in the face.

'Your dick is printed like 3D there. THAT is inappropriate.'

"Uh-huh…"

He reaches my back with his hand and pulls me closer to him. "I'm Evan, and you're Andra, right?"

'Ew… go away, creepo!'

"So, are you free tomorrow? There's a new café near the park."

'Hell no! Even standing with you here makes me embarrassed already.'

"I'm sorry. But, I can't." I reject it with a gentle tone. I hope he just gets off from me. When will they learn that Hitting on me is like hitting a rock, you'll hurt yourself. He walks off and finally leaves me. However, he turns back only to ask me again. "How about phone number? Can I have yours?"

"I'm sorry, but no phone number either," again, I answer it politely. He rolls his eyes. His bright smile turns into dim closed lips. "Boring."

As he walks by, I also roll my eyes. Nothing's wrong with a boring person. I just don't like people with rash attitude. Who in the world thinks it is that easy to come and ask people to hang out? I guess his 3D printed dick is his brain.

Mother always said that all men are an asshole. A primitive with the least developed brain which only cares about sex (I partially agree with this), dirty and brash. I don't always agree with her, but I nod in this case. As far as I know, a man who came to me is the one who wants to hang out, to make out, and then fuck. I have no male friend, but I don't have many friends either… or none at all. Limiting myself from other people is a way to hide mother's secret.

The bell rings loudly. Some of my friends leave the class. They are going to the locker room. I blend and follow them from behind. The girls are noisy. I tend to avoid their noisy chitchat. Sometimes they drag me in their useless breath, and it is tiring. I go after them and quickly change my clothes. They do notice my presence. They take a quick look at me when I'm unbuttoning my plaid shirt. I already use a sports bra from home.

Now, their eyes are centered on me when I'm just using a sports bra and underwear. Is it because I used plain white underwear? I don't have a particular fascination on panties and lingerie like mother. Thus, I don't have many selections on it. But I found some of the girls using the same underwear. Is it because of the bra? Gee, I used a sports bra. My breast will hurt more if I don't use it in training.

The stares continue until I finished changing. There are many male students in the training yard. I'm the first girl that comes to the yard. Even the boys are staring at me like an antique object. I know, my P.E shirt is too tight, but it is not that visible. I bet, they are mocking me in their mind.

Mr. Gulliver, our PE teacher, always looks likes a fat seal. His body moves around like a bouncing ball, a sweaty bouncing ball. I've always wondered, how did a person like this can be qualified as a PE teacher? He never runs or exercises with us. All he does is sitting in his chair while playing with his phone and ordering us around to do exercises. His body is always sweaty, and it's disgusting to even glances at him. He needs tons of deodorants.

After warming up, he orders us to run on the track for two rounds. Just like what the fat seal ordered, we start running on the track. The first lap is easy, but the second one makes me tired already. The sports bra helps a little, but I can feel the back pain. My breast feels heavy. I slow down and walk to finish the second lap, maybe because I ran like crazy in the morning. I feel tired already.

Someone taps my back, I look behind, a girl who tapped me smiles, and then she proceeds to outrun me. I rolled my eyes, annoyed by it. You shouldn't tap someone's back like it is a friendly gesture. I don't even know you!

I finish the lap with few students. I bypass the last fatty that still in the first round and sit with other students on the ground. Mr. Gulliver moves his ass off the chair and starts lecturing us about some P.E stuff. While he is lecturing us about it, I can clearly see some greasy stain in his shirt. Gross.

We take a shower after the P.E ended. Girl's bath is full of naked, noisy, giggling girls that disturb my shower. I quickly finish my shower and drying my body, then I put on new clothes and spraying some light perfume in my body. I love this floral blossom scent. Mother is excellent at girls' thing. She bought me this and some other stuff. She lectures me about the importance of beauty, grace, pride and blah. She should've talk to mirror about that.

Someone taps my shoulder again. I look behind. It is the same girl, the one who touched my shoulder in the track. There is a gentle vibe on her. She smiles at me with few teeth showing. The first thing that I notice is a mole, just above her lips.

I give full attention to her now. She has a ponytail blonde hair. She is not beautiful but has a very soft expression on her face. I think her deep eyes and tender eyelashes is the cause of gentle vibe on her. However, her eye bag appears to be dark and weary.

"Hi. How are you?" she asks.

"Uh— fine, I guess," I answer hesitantly. Not knowing what kind of answer should I give.

"I'm Diana. You're Andra, right? Let's go to the cafeteria. I'm starving!" She grabs my hand and starts dragging me to the cafeteria. Her strength is incredible for such a slim woman. I follow her, but I don't know what the fuck is she doing. She tapped my shoulder, suddenly introducing herself and dragging me to the cafeteria. Well, maybe she tries to be friendly, but it comes out as creepy and weird. This school is full of weirdo.

Since this school is a private one, our cafeteria has decent food. It's always fresh and warm. My favorite has always been the almond bread, the medium sweet and freshly baked almond bread will lighten my day. Oh yeah, you can ask for more in this cafeteria. I usually ask for five loaves of almond bread for myself. The honey milk is the way to perfecting this delicious meal.

It seems so simple, but this place is the only place I can eat well. Mother or I cook at home. But it will stay at the dining table for a while, especially if mother is the one who cooks. It is too risky for my tongue. Well, if I cook, I will make anything as long as it is fast. I can't stand near or in the kitchen, where mother's chamber is lurking beside the kitchen.

Now, I'm sitting with Diana in this cafeteria. It is unusual for me to eat with someone. Few people try to eat with me. But I will just ignore them and they'll move away. I'm so not into boring chitchat. However, this girl is weird. She keeps talking to me. Even though, I ignore her since I sat here. There have been tons of boring talks coming from her damn mouth. I just hope that she will run out of breath soon.

"Do you know the reason why I approach you?"

'Dunno, because you're crazy?' that's what I want to say to her, but it just a simple no coming from me.

"Well, I have an interest. You need to help me for that interest," she said. I raise my eyebrows. She gets my attention now. "Interest? What kind of interest? I have nothing." I lean back, staring at her face, searching for her intentions.

"I need you to be my friend," she stares at me with certainty. "I have a reason, but I won't tell you now."

"Reason? Well then, why do you want ME to be your friend? There are many fishes in the sea."

"Because you—uh… have no friend? I never see you around with someone."

That's harsh. It is not like I don't want to have any friend. But I found no one suitable for me to talk to. And as what I said earlier, I limit myself. I don't want mother's secret to get revealed because of my foul mouth.

"Why is that a reason to pick me?"

"I have a secret. If I befriend random people, maybe they will reveal my secret."

"Do you think I won't reveal it?" I ask menacingly.

"You're very quiet. I doubt you even have any thoughts to reveal it. It'll only waste your energy."

She got me there. True, I am mostly silent and an excellent secret keeper. The words that go inside my ear will stay there. Every word will be chained and jailed in my mind. I keep staring at her, hoping I'd find hidden sly grin like on the TV. But I see nothing than a normal girl in front of me.

"It is not free," I argue, with the intention of turning her down.

"I don't have that much money. But I'll pay you later. You know, saving."

She is serious about it. I'm not really into money. Since Mother has a good job and we are not exactly poor. But her words are strong. She really begs my help. Helping one person might not be hurtful, I guess. I nod.

"Fine. I guess it can't be helped," I stare her eyes, sharp and piercing. "But, it is only for your interest. Deal?"

"Deal." We shake hands, such formality for something so unnecessary. But, it is a start for a 'friendship.' Now, her face becomes sweeter and gentler. It is surprisingly satisfying to make a person happy. I can clearly see some heavy burden has been lifted from her eyes.

Speaking of help, I've faced dozens of people asking my help for something so disgusting. Most of them are quite the same, asking to be a girl (space) friend, to be a lover or friends with benefit. Of course, I dismissed every pervert that comes to my face. Don't forget mother, she is the one that asks my help countless times to help her hiding her wrongdoings. I don't want to help her, but do I have a choice? So I reluctantly helped her on every occasion.

I think this is the first time someone asks me a normal thing. Well, not really normal. She sounds fishy. Who pays someone to be a friend? That is ridiculous. I'm aware of the chance of weird shit to happen to me. But meh, if you see my mother, you'll see the real weird shit going on.

I thought my new friendship would be dismissed after I leave the cafeteria. But she keeps tailing me everywhere. She sits beside me in the class. She also follows me to the toilet. Even the whole class has been staring at us for the entire day. Her interest has been bugging me in my way home. Because I reject mother's call, I walk to my home. Her house is quite far from mine. But she insists on going with me, like a lost little duckling. I ignore her most of the time, but she. Keeps. Talking. It's really irritating.

Suddenly, I stop on the halfway through my home. I can feel some weird chilling sensation tickling my spine.

No. She shouldn't know my house. She shouldn't know my secret. I've realized the possibility if someday she will drop by my house. Oh god, I cannot describe my fear in word. My world will be doomed if she knows it.

"What's wrong?" she asks.

"I—I need to buy some food for my family," I say with a shaky voice. "You can go first, it will take time."

"I'll accompany you! I know one small restaurant named Michael's Seven around here. Let me treat you today!"

"NO!" I shout at her face. My palms are sweating, and my throat is starting to get dry. My voice echoed around the place. Plenty of people looking at us and I'm still crazy scared. I expect her to get mad and leave me so that I can go back to my home in relieve.

She is stunned, of course. But she doesn't even yell back at me. She just smiles awkwardly at me and nods. She leaves me, simple as that. Somehow, I feel relieved, yet guiltier. Is it because of the shout, or because I decline her kindness? Or am I exaggerating it? I don't usually have any friend to hang out it. It is hard to keep up with social interaction to another human.

I walk in a different route. It is a long road, but I don't want to risk it. Finally, I reach my residential area. There're few families that live in the front area of this place. But if you go further, you will only find my house and Mrs. Dowle's blue house. It's dusk already. I check my phone and see five missed calls from mother.

"Now, that's six," I reject another call from her. Something like this is common between us. We're family, but we have such big distance to each other. I walk pass Mrs. Dowle's gate. She is still there, knitting a sweater. I don't call her this time since she looks focused. But I think, I will visit her later. I want to taste her baked almond pie.

The first thing that I see is my sister. She is playing on the swing, alone. She holds a kitten doll. It's a pitiful scene. I see her every day in the same spot, sitting on the wooden swing, talking to her doll. She is homeschooled, and the only teacher who teaches her class is mother. I approach her to help her swinging. The swing is moving slow and steady. She smiles broadly.

"Thanks, Big Andra!" She says, "Mrs. Branna says she missed you!" she lifts her doll to my face. As usual, I kiss her kitten doll then her forehead. I don't want to ask about her activity. Because she is alone in the house from the morning until I return home everyday. I ask her to go inside.

Watching her excitement each time I return from school is a happy, yet sad experience. I go after her marching step to the house. She immediately jumps on the dining chair. She knows the schedule, as today is my turn for dinner.

I open the fridge. I found few salmons that I bought yesterday. Maybe grilled salmon will be okay.

The smell of grilled salmon tickles my nose. I bring three plates of grilled salmon with diced broccoli. Alska eyeing the salmon like a hungry hippo with a knife and fork in her hand. She takes a plate and cut the salmon in half. I love to cook for her. She said she loves my cooking more than mother's. Because it's… well, cooked, not like mother's unusual preference of raw meat.

I also eat my part, the taste of salty cooked fish filling my mouth in a jiffy. Ah, I love the taste of cooked food. It is more human for me. After we eat, I put the food cover on the table. I will heat the salmon later on.

Alska is playing with her kitten doll, while I'm busy doing my homework. We're waiting for mother in the living room. She supposedly backs at seven.

"Big Andra, have you tasted the red jam?" ask Alska. I stop writing, looking at her suspiciously.

"Did you?" I ask.

"I did! It's weird, but I eat it with bread, and it's delicious!" hearing her words, my eyes enlarged.

"Did mother give it to you?!" My eyes are wide open. I squeeze the pen as if it will split into a half.

"No, I just took it from the trash can," she makes a gesture with her extended tongue. "It tastes like when I lick a spoon, salty," she describes it as what I expected, metallic taste from the blood.

"Where is the jam now?" I ask with a pressing tone in my voice. She shakes her head. "I throw it in the trash can again. Big Andra, don't be mean! Your eyes are scary!" I stop my dead serious gaze and pat her head.

"I'm sorry. I just want to make sure."

The sound of doorbell gives me a slight chill. It must be mother. I open the door, only to find mother with calm demeanor, smiling at me. I drop my head to the lowest point of my neck. This will not be a very good time for a small talk.

"Alska, have you finished the homework I gave you this morning?" mother begins to speak with Alska. "Not yet! I will finish it this night, mom!"

"I will heat the food," I rush to the kitchen, while mother is sitting at the dining table. Her calm attitude is the thing that kills me. It is the phase before she went batshit crazy and shouted at me. Did my attitude this morning irk her so much?

"Thank you, Andra," she glares at me for a moment, then proceeds to smile again.

"I'm going to my room, I will finish my homework," I leave her and bring my bag. I climb the stairs as fast as possible. However, before the last step, mother calls my name. I freeze like an ice sculpture. I can feel all of my guts go away with my heavy breath. I slowly turn my head. Mother is standing at the bottom of the stairs.

"Why don't you bring your friends here? We will provide food for her."

I nearly fall from the stair, as my legs feel so weak. Mother has been watching me from somewhere in the street. Suddenly, I can imagine her glare from anywhere, like a predator eyeing the prey.

"Sure," I reply, my body is cold and trembling as if all my blood has been drained in an instant. I run to my room as fast as I can.

She knows it. She knows everything and watching me from somewhere. She is a predator, disguised as the calm harmless woman. I'm just one of her soon-to-be victim. Until I lay dead on the floor, she will not let me escape.