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Strings
She looked like a Phoenix as she darted around on the stage, waving her ribbon of fire back and forth around her. Her smile created a controversy inside me. Stay and finish the movie or leave to do my work? Despite how titillating it was to stay, I was growing ravenous and so, I headed for the kitchen. As I headed through the abyss I’ve come to know as my hallway, I realized how melancholic it all seemed. Halfway through, I noticed that the temperature must’ve been rising, 50 degrees Fahrenheit more at the least. I turned to head for the control of my heater before a piercing scream sent me running upstairs. My parlor was a disaster and when I went to look out the open window. A pedestrian was walking by. I knew that wasn’t where the scream came from so I simply closed the window and headed to the next room. My pet salamander was peacefully asleep in his cage and nothing else seemed out of place so I left it alone. From room to room I went and yet could not find anything wrong so I headed back downstairs. Upon my return to the kitchen, I felt something was wrong. My subconscious seemed to have picked it up long before my conscious did for the hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up as soldiers did at attention. My unease led me to a dark corner in the kitchen where a marionette sat. Its pitch black hair reflected what faint light there was and her glassy bead eyes refracted the light of my cold world. Her frilly pink dress was covered in dust and her dainty black shoes looked worn. The paint on her cheeks was chipping and it was obvious that she has been sitting here a while for her strings seemed ready to snap. The dimensions of the room seemed to melt away and time seemed to slow as I looked into those lifeless eyes, the same eyes of those who are sanctioned in the mausoleum. Although the olfactory offenses were lacking, the marionette resembled a corpse in every way. All these thoughts shoved me onto a centrifuge. My head spun and my legs grew weak then finally gave out. My body no longer had a mass and I simply lay there as darkness closed in around me.
When I awoke, the pain hit me like a trajectory. My limbs were numb and when I moved them, sharp needles stabbed me all over. Despite my body’s objectivity to cooperating, I was able to sit up. Looking around, I wondered if everything was simply a dream. The phoenix dancer was done and the credits were rolling. In my head, I wondered if perhaps I had simply fallen asleep despite my subconscious rejecting the thought. I smiled to myself and reached over for my glass of water. When I couldn’t find it, I looked over to find the marionette with slick black hair, grinning at the air. Upon closer inspection, I noticed silver threads. The lifelines of the marionette were attached to my limbs. I was the marionette and the marionette was now I.
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