Spring 2020

Characters:

Flute: Young, strong-willed, sure, independent, a bit of a loner. Gender non-conforming, non-binary, genderqueer, androgynous, trans folks take this role and run with it. They/Them or He/Him pronouns

Skye: 18, trying to find herself, at odds with the world. A bit of a hurricane blowing over whatever is in her path, not maliciously but rather because she knows nothing else and has lived no other experience. Borderline personality disorder. 

The play will not have been published or professionally produced as of June 24, and it is not under option for a publication or professional production nor will it be under such option. 

This play has had no workshops.  

Synopsis:

This play explores the relationship between Flute and Skye and their struggle to find peace and harmony together despite their internal and external conflicts. 

Scene 1

(Lights up on Flute’s back porch. The house has a cabin in the woods vibe but it is homey. It is early morning. You can hear birds and sounds of the woods around the porch. We should sit in silence for a bit with nothing happening; it is peaceful. Flute walks out with a coffee and a flip phone. Flute sits down on a rocking chair and drinks coffee for a while. Absorbs the silence and is at peace. This goes on for as long as it needs to. They look at the phone. Consider it. Get up the courage and lose it several times. Till finally,

(Flute opens the phone and pushes a number on speed dial. We hear it ring…and ring…and ring and go to voicemail)

FLUTE

Hey. You probably aren’t awake. I don’t know why I called. 

(beat)

I miss you. I saw a dog the other day that made me think of you. He ran out in front of my car and I had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting him and I tried to grab him and then he tried to bite me and ran away. 

(beat) 

I wanted to take a picture and send it to you but he got away too fast. 

(beat) 

Anyway, I just hope you are okay.  

(beat) 

Call me back when you get this. 

(beat) 

Okay uh bye.

(They hang up the phone.  Slow fade to black.)

Scene 2

(Flute and Skye come out of the house onto the porch. Both drinking whiskey. They are both very comfortable. They enter laughing and groaning as they are commiserating about work.) 

SKYE

I mean it was my first day back. I was really hoping for it to just go by as quickly and as painlessly as possible.

FLUTE

What did you tell her?

SKYE

I told her it’s not that I don’t trust her. It's just company policy. And she told me she is in law enforcement and isn’t going to cheat. 

FLUTE

What did you say?

SKYE

I said I wasn’t assuming that she was going to cheat. That it’s just protocol, but then she asked to speak to the manager and it was like a whole thing. So much for quick and painless. 

FLUTE

I hate people like that. I’m sorry that happened. 

SKYE

It’s just so obnoxious. People aren’t entitled to special treatment. It annoys me so much when people think they deserve something special when they have done nothing to warrant it. That kind of thinking makes me want to just like go get away from people, live off the grid or something, go by my own rules. But living like that isn’t sustainable I guess, whatever. I hate everyone. 

(pause, the energy has shifted.)

FLUTE 

The sunset is nice tonight. 

SKYE 

Yeah it is. You haven’t sent a picture of the sunset in a while. 

FLUTE 

Yeah, I know, sorry. I’ve been busy. 

SKYE

I get it. 

(beat)

FLUTE 

It’s nice to have you back. 

SKYE

Can we please not talk about it? 

FLUTE

I was really worried about you. 

SKYE

I said I don’t want to talk about it. 

FLUTE

You disappeared for a week Skye; you didn’t come to work, you didn’t answer my calls...I was worried.

SKYE

I told you a long time ago you would be better off to not worry about me. 

FLUTE

You can say that all you want but it’s not going to change how I feel.  

(A beat, they both digest the words the other has said, try to dissect them.) 

SKYE

I wish you wouldn’t say that. You know I..can’t…it…I would just fuck it up. I don’t understand why you are so nice to me. You should hate me. You shouldn’t want to hang out with me. You should be hanging out with your friends right now talking about how awful I am. 

FLUTE

But you’re not awful, and I don’t hate you. 

SKYE

I don’t hate you either. 

(beat) 

Your mom texted me the other day. 

FLUTE 

Really?

SKYE

Yeah, she said she and I could talk no matter what. 

FLUTE 

Oh. 

SKYE 

She’s so nice. You all are just so…nice. 

FLUTE

Yeah. 

SKYE 

I know maybe she isn’t the best mom, but I just think- I just think she tries her best. 

FLUTE 

She likes you. 

SKYE 

She likes you too. 

FLUTE 

No. She doesn’t. 

SKYE 

She told me she- 

FLUTE 

She can tell you she loves me and is proud of me, but she will never say it to me. And do you know why? Because she doesn’t actually believe it. She likes to pretend she is fine with having a child like me so she can appear cool and hip to everyone else, but she hasn’t talked to me in weeks and she refuses to acknowledge how I want to be referred to and addressed and I just don’t have time for people like that. So, just whatever. 

SKYE 

Well I think she is a pretty cool lady considering she made you. 

FLUTE 

That doesn’t seem like an especially extraordinary feat. 

SKYE 

I think it is. You’re special. 

FLUTE 

If you think I am special then why do you keep running off and disappearing for weeks without a word? At least tell me where you go. God, you can’t do this to people.

SKYE

I can’t stay here. 

FLUTE 

Then leave. 

SKYE 

Is that what you want? 

FLUTE 

No, obviously that is not what I want. What I want is to take care of you, but you won’t let me. 

SKYE

I don’t need anyone to take care of me, I can take care of myself.

FLUTE 

Sometimes it doesn’t seem like you can. 

SKYE 

Look, I like you. When I’m with you it just feels right. And I know you feel that too, right? You have to feel that too. I don’t want to think that the last time I kissed you was the last time I will ever kiss you and that I’ll never get to hold your hand again and I-  I want to be with you but I just, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know if I can do this. You want someone who can be there for you when you need them. Someone reliable and accountable and responsible, and that is not something I can promise you. 

FLUTE 

Maybe if you just took your medication…

SKYE 

You know I can’t afford to take my medication, you know- 

FLUTE 

I told you I would help you pay for-

SKYE 

I told you I don’t need your help! 

FLUTE 

Clearly you do! 

SKYE 

I don’t want help from someone who can’t help themselves! 

FLUTE 

I am doing fine! It would be better if you didn’t leave me questioning whether you are dead or alive for days. 

SKYE 

But that is just who I am. I am just going to do that shit. So, if you want to be with me that is something you are going to have to be okay with. If you don’t want to be with me just tell me. If you don’t want to be here just tell me and even though it will be one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do I will let you go. Because I care about you. And if you want to do this, I’m not going to hold you hostage. 

FLUTE

I’m going to go inside and refill my glass. Do you want me to refill yours, too?

SKYE

No. 

(Flute goes inside. Skye is left outside looking and thinking. She finishes her drink in one gulp. She sits. Out of nowhere she gets up and throws the glass and screams. A shard of glass cuts her hand as the glass shatters. There is a lot of blood. Flute comes running out.)

FLUTE

Is everything okay? Fuck you’re bleeding! Skye what happened?

SKYE

I’m fine. 

FLUTE

Come on, we are going to go inside and wrap up your hand. 

SKYE

I said I was fine. 

(Beat, Flute doesn’t know what to do. Skye is still just staring out)

FLUTE

I love you.

SKYE 

Why? 

FLUTE

I love you and I think you love me and I think this might be my only chance to find someone who understands me like you do, and I’m going to fix all this and-

SKYE

You can’t fix all this. That is what I was trying to say. 

FLUTE

Please just let me help. 

SKYE

You can’t help! 

FLUTE

I have to at least try. 

SKYE

Why? 

FLUTE

I can’t, I can’t, I can’t just leave you alone. You don’t understand- I’m sorry but you are the only human who has not just looked over me my whole life. I feel seen Skye, for the first time in my life I feel seen. When I am with you I don’t feel small and I don’t feel insignificant and I don’t hate myself. And it scares me when you disappear because I don’t want you to be like everyone else and I don’t want to lose you and I don’t want to lose this. I don’t care what you say; I want you around and I want you in my life. Please just listen to me. I know I can give you a good life if you would just let me! I can’t understand why you don’t want a good life.

SKYE

It’s more complicated than that. 

FLUTE 

I don’t think it has to be. 

SKYE 

Maybe we can give it a trial run- a trial run and then you can’t see if it’s- if I’m what you want or not. 

FLUTE 

I don’t think that is a good idea. 

SKYE 

Why not? 

FLUTE 

I don’t want a trial run. If we are doing this I want to really do this. 

SKYE 

Well I don’t know if I can really do this. 

(Long silence.)

FLUTE

Can I show you something?

(Skye doesn’t respond. Flute just does it anyway. Flute grabs the guitar that has been sitting on the porch. They start to play Tennessee Whiskey by Chris Stapelton. As the song goes on Skye puts her head in their lap. Flute notices it. The song ends and Flute and Skye sit in silence as Flute plays with Skye’s hair. Fade to black.) 

Scene 3

(Lights up. You hear Skye screaming Flute’s name in the house repeatedly. She comes outside screaming it. They are nowhere to be found. Skye stands there for a while. Unsure what to do. She pulls out her IPhone. Dials a number, it goes to voicemail) 

SKYE

Hey…um it’s me. Just uhh… I’m worried about you. And I miss you. Please come back, things aren’t the same without you. Look, I get it now. This feels so shitty. I shouldn’t have just disappeared. I can see that now. I can see- I can feel how that made you feel. And I’m sorry, I’m so sorry Flute. I was never trying to hurt you, I’m so fucking selfish. I just wasn’t think about anyone but myself. I wish you were here. I…I need you.

(She regrets saying this, pauses, and then hangs up. “Crazy Now” by Aerial East plays. She melts into a puddle on the ground. She calls again) 

Fuck, I hate this. You still give me butterflies. But now, instead of bouncing around in my stomach, they leave the inside of my ribs black and blue. Every night I see the sunset and I think of you and I don’t want to think of you but I can’t help it.  I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I don’t want to be alone like this anymore. Please come back. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should never have done this to you. I promise I won’t leave again if you just come back. Please…

(She hangs up. She punches a wall. Over and over and over again. We watch Flute come in from the house. Skye doesn’t seem them and keeps punching the wall. They watch Skye and then jump between Skye and the wall, grabbing her first and stopping her. They wipe the blood from her knuckles with their shirt. It is strangely tender and sweet.  “Crazy Now” fades into “Tennessee Whiskey”. The two stare at each other. We are unsure what is going to happen next. No one moves. Where do we go from here? Slow, long fade to black out. The song plays in the darkness for a bit.) 

The End

It’s not dark, but it is gloomy. The light is low, but I have no difficulty seeing. I feel separated from everything. The trees are gray, the leaves are green-gray. Everything is muted, cold. Gray. Fog envelopes the ground causing a damp taste in my mouth. There was no sound in this forest. No scuttling creatures, no chirping birds. It was dead silent. There was no life to be seen. There was a sharp, cooling breeze sending chills down my back, but it did not rustle the leaves. I have been walking aimlessly for hours and have no reason to stop now. This has been my life for a few years now.

I look into the far distance, the gray stretching out in front of me. Barely visible, there seems to be a white figure far out. I walk towards it, curious. As I get closer, I notice it is a horse. The white coat is blindingly bright in all the gray. What is it doing in the middle of a gloomy forest? I blink and the horse disappears. Where did it go? I continue walking in the direction of this mysterious creature, hoping for some answers.

After a few minutes, I decided to stop. I must have imagined it. Things don’t just disappear. Looking around, I know I am still lost. Color seems to slowly fade around me. It is so slow I barely notice it, but I can tell it is grayer than it was before. Sudden exhaustion fills me and I slump to the ground. Why am I here? I look up and again in the distance I can see the white horse. I need to know why this creature is here. I get up and walk towards it again. I have to know. I have to understand. The figure seems to shimmer. Is it just the distance or is this a ghost? I used to deny the existence of ghosts, but due to recent events, I am unsure. I keep walking, but no matter how many steps I take, I don’t seem to be getting any closer to it. Then, as I blink, the creature vanishes again.

I am not sure what to make of this. What does it mean? I remember my father used to tell me that if he was ever to reappear on this Earth, he would want to do so as a white horse. He never told me why, but he was very adamant about what he wanted. What happened should not have happened. He wasn’t supposed to be there. He wasn’t supposed to know.

The horse appeared again far into the trees. Don’t blink! I tell myself. If I blink I know it will disappear. I keep my eyes open, but relaxed, hoping to follow this horse to wherever it seemed to be leading me. My eyes were starting to burn, but I fought the urge to close them, hoping to learn this secret. The horse then passed behind a tree and did not reappear on the other side. I rubbed my eyes trying to take away the sting. What was happening? Why was this horse appearing and disappearing? How was it appearing and disappearing? What does it mean? I hoped by following the direction the horse was, I would soon understand.

I kept walking, determined. Suddenly the trees faded creating a clearing just in front of me. I walked through it and saw a little house. It was damaged by flames and run down, but I knew this place. Last I saw it, it hadn’t been surrounded by trees in some weird, soundless forest. I cautiously walked up the steps and onto the porch. I debated knocking, but I couldn’t imagine anyone was here. Opening the door caused a warm, dry, smokey smell to emerge from inside the house as if the fire had only gone out a few hours ago. The furniture and paintings were all where they were supposed to be and relatively intact despite the charred surface. I knew the whole house was a wreck, but I walked around anyway.

I walked into the kitchen, the whole house smelled like cigarettes. The two men I met earlier were sitting in the chairs by the table. They looked just as badass as before. Tattoos covered their faces and arms and their white muscle shirts showed off their strength nicely. The black duffle bag in my hands seemed heavier than before.

“Everything there?” The first man growled at me. I knew this was a mistake from the start, but it was too late to back out now.

“Y-yes,” I stammered. Way to act cool. The men chuckled, they must think I am quite weak. I guess I am. I lifted the bag and put it on the table. The men opened it to reveal the recently stolen cash.

“Anybody follow you here?” The first man asked, eyeing me warily.

“No,” I had checked, double checked, and triple checked to make sure I wasn’t followed. No one knew I was here.

“Good,” They started counting the money, double checking I hadn’t taken any. Which I wouldn’t have dared to do. I fiddled with the handle of the gun tucked into the back of my pants, hoping I hadn’t missed anything. I should have counted it before I go here, but it’s too late now.

“What’s going on here?” A familiar voice came from behind me. I grabbed my gun, whipped around, and shot the man in the doorway. It was my dad. What have I done?

“I thought you weren’t followed!” The first man exclaimed.

“I swear I wasn’t!” I couldn’t believe this was happening, “Oh my, are you okay?” My dad groaned. I knelt next to him.

“W-w-why?” He could barely get it out. Blood pooled on the ground. It was everywhere.

“D-dad I’m sorry,” I whispered, I could barely speak. I couldn’t believe what I had done. I had no excuse this time, nothing I say can make this right. His chest stopped moving. He was dead.

“Whoa, dude. Look, you can totally be in La Rosa Negra after this,” The second man said. I stayed where I was, saying nothing, horrified. The first man grabbed my arm and helped me up, dragging me outside. He had the money with him. A few minutes later the second man came out the door pouring a line of gasoline over to us. He pulled out a lighter and set the house on fire. We stood there for a few minutes, the waves crashing on the shore behind us, the salty air filling my lungs. I felt sick.

I entered the kitchen. It was set up like before with two chairs around the kitchen table, but everything was charred. I looked back at the doorway, there were no other signs of what had happened here. I turned around and looked back at the table, where the black duffle bag had appeared. I opened it and there was a little note on the bottom. I picked it up and opened it. It read, Let me go.

I looked up and outside the window, there was the white horse looking right at me. It shimmered before me and in my head, I heard my dad say, “Let me go.”

The hulking metal ship drifted idly through the dark vacuum of space. Every main light was off, giving the craft a hollow and empty look from the outside, only the blinking emergency lights glowed dimly through the soulless eyes of the portholes. The ship was spotless on the surface, but outside, a corpse floated, claret-red orbs of crystalizing blood lazily oozing from its eyes, mouth, and the large gash in its side. The body was only a scant indicator of what lay under the skin of the muted luxury cruise liner.

It was over; they were all gone. The blood ran, pooling into small lakes across the landscape of the exposed metal floor. Trickling crimson rivers percolated into the valleys of the decking, filling the recessed metal bolt heads in with red. There was nothing but sickly carnage everywhere he looked, and he shut his eyes tightly to try and block out the visceral images burned into his mind. The boy could feel the weight of his mother’s arm still over him, stiff, cold. He could feel the hot, sticky blood running underneath him, on top of him, oozing, permeating everything.

The boy didn’t know how long he had lain there, eyes shut, wishing reality was over. Time stretched out, long, unravelling like a fraying garment. He hardly felt the hunger clawing at his insides, he hardly felt anything at all. Sight, sound, he blocked it all out. It didn’t exist. He didn’t exist. He felt himself floating away, up to the ceiling, out into the vastness of space, peacefully drifting.

A jolt sent him reeling back to reality, a sting of sound piercing his ears like a pin as a great metal door somewhere nearby opened. The deafening silence was replaced with shuffled footfalls as pairs of heavy boots moved around inside the doorway. Flashlights clicked on, penetrating through the darkness of the dim room. The glowing eyes of their torches scanned the room methodically until they started gleaming off the bodies and blood and started to shake. Trembling like scared animals, the lights seemed to scatter and run away from the sight they just witnessed, not wanting to linger any longer.

The boy could hear the shouts of alarm and disgust from his visitors, though they sounded muffled, as if underwater. He heard them stumbling around in a large commotion before a loud, stern voice quieted and corralled them. The air noticeably changed with the introduction of a commanding presence, and the boy’s heart began to race inside his chest.

The ticking of his heart escalated as the flashlights began sweeping the room again, not shying away anymore. He could see the lights snaking through the carnage through his half-open eyes. The rays passed over him, momentarily gleaming into his eyes, blinding him. The boy instinctively recoiled slightly, the first time he had moved in ages. Suddenly, as if the eyes of the lights had caught his movement out of their peripherals, the beams traced swiftly back over to him.

A tiny chest rose and fell, visible in the pale blue-white electric lights of the men. They shouted to each other, more muffled noises to the boy’s ears, before one took up a quick pace. The sticky, congealing coating of the ground stuck to the men’s boots and made them slide along the floor slightly with every other step while they traversed through the bodies towards the moving shape.

The boy faintly felt his mother’s grip release him; her shelter giving way, breaking into firmer hands. He was lifted up and examined before the invading men, their lights passing in front of his glassed eyes and down his form. The tall man now holding him looked at him through the heavily scuffed visor of a heavy helmet. The man held him tighter, issuing words of comfort, trying to soothe the skinny, quivering child. But nothing could sate his shivering body, his shuddering mind.

~ ~ ~

San Brindle walked down the cool central metal hallway of the Ibiza’s insides. She was a scrawny fifteen-year-old scavenger, the youngest among the ship’s crew. They were a kaleidoscopic and dowdy group of scrap salvagers, smugglers, and raiders, working outside the law in unregulated space for shady employers. San was prized as being the smallest member of the crew, able to fit into small spaces and easily talk her way out of chance encounters with the law, levying the “innocence” of her age to aid her in escaping most encounters with no more than a reprimand.

She wore a threadbare dark blue jumpsuit, a black, well-worn leather jacket pulled around her torso, and her brown hair hung in a frazzled and curly bob, as if it had violently exploded from her head. On the breast of her jumpsuit was an embroidered patch depicting a blue, grey, and spotted desert lizard from Earth, the namesake for the ship. A pair of work gloves, haphazardly stuffed into a back pocket, hung out the back. The seams had split along several of the fingers, so she had cut off all the tips to make them uniform, a compulsory act.

San hooked a right at the end of the hall, stopping to stare through the double-layered glass windows of the small medical bay. The boy the crew had brought in three days ago was still asleep in the white bed. She contemplated his almond-colored skin, his shallow frame rising and falling gently with every breath. Sympathy welled inside her, watching the gaunt figure, thinking about what the massacre he had witnessed must have been like.

It had been the work of the Blethezar, the boogeymen. A race of other-worlders that had never been fully documented. Their tactics were always the same: track down lone ships outside of controlled space and butcher the crew. It was a threat the Ibiza faced every day, but the Blethezar almost felt like a legend. 

No one had ever actually seen one of the aliens and lived to tell about it— until now. The spare footage left from the attacks never captured their full shape. Thus, they inhabited a mythical stature to spacefaring crews, until a ship was encountered that had fallen prey to them, a reminder that they existed. She had never seen such a lurid sight as that ship’s hold; never seen the handiwork of the Blethezar with her own eyes apart from the occasional body encountered near wreckage sights, crystalizing in the void of space. This vessel has been a different story, dark and plastered in gore— the full effect of the ravenous and abominable aliens on display for all to see. A full passenger luxury liner in slaughtered shambles.

The crew of the Ibiza had spotted the liner drifting idly, far away from patrolled sectors, its windows and engines dark. The possibility of scavenging an entire cruise vessel had almost felt like Christmas come early. Captain Nam Fijor had issued the command for his crew to take a closer look against many reservations, but even sensations of dread couldn’t bottle up the prospects of such a potentially valuable haul. Upon docking in the otherwise spotless ship, all forebodings had been justified. The poor multitudes of the civilian vessel were easy prey for the Blethezar, and the liner itself no match for the engines of their clippers. It must have been like an injured whale, and the sharks had all come out to feed.

Clean and spotless, but dark and luridly painted on the inside was the Blethezar’s signature calling card, how they liked to leave their victims. No one really knew why, perhaps some vicious religious dictation in their culture; a vile hecatomb.

Beneath San’s sympathy, a question smoldered in the hearth of her mind: what had driven this cruise ship out so far from safe space?

This is a story about a little girl. Her life is tragic. An abusive father, an empty mother, and a lonely life spent all alone. That was until her seventh birthday. 

The day after, the Sullivan family moved into their new house. They were a small family of three in a quaint town that seemed all smiles. But behind the picket fence lurked a load of darkness. The family was headed by Samael. He was once a hard-working loyal man, but as life became more and more difficult, he found dangerous ways of dealing with his stress. Samael became an angry drunkard who let out his anger by hurting those he loved the most. Behind Samael, standing in his shadow, was his long-suffering wife, Mahli. Samael was the love of her life, and she was always holding out for the return of the happiness she and her husband once shared. As time went by, and things got worse, she became more and more withdrawn. Mahli, a once cheerful and happy person, had lost all the light behind her eyes. She played the role of the dutiful housewife as it was the only thing that kept her going. The one who suffered the most though, was their poor little girl, Kierra. Kierra never knew her happy family; by the time she came, there was no more happiness. Her parents never really took to their role as mother and father. Their child was more of an appearance piece than their little girl. 

Though, on Kierra’s seventh birthday, everything changed. Most of her previous birthdays had been forgotten or ignored. She never had that big day with balloons and cake and friends. She was often alone, singing to herself. But this day, she received her first birthday gift. Her father was at the bar, but her mother had remembered. There was no cake or decorations, but she finally had her first gift. It wasn’t wrapped, but Kierra had never been so happy. Her mother told her a little about her gift before she handed her the shopping bag. After the move, Mahli had taken a few things to sell at a second-hand store. It was there she stumbled upon an old porcelain doll. She didn’t know what came over her, almost like she was meant to find it. Kierra looked at her new friend and felt an immediate connection. She had never had anyone she could talk to, to tell about her family and her sadness. But now she had her doll. Kierra hugged her mother, thanking her profusely. Mahli patted her daughter’s head and told her to run to her room and play. Kierra ran up the stairs to her room. She started to think of a name. Her porcelain doll had pale skin, faded to almost a ghost white. Her pink painted cheeks were almost rubbed off. Her hair was a bit tangled, but Kierra brushed the dolls red curls until they were good as new. She then fixed her doll's faint blue dress and retied the yellow lace ribbon around her waist. There were a few scratches on her legs, but nothing much. On her feet were little black shoes. The dolls shining green eyes never closed, and her smile never faded. She needed a name as beautiful as her. Then it came to her, Maya. She looked just like a Maya. 

That night at dinner Kierra couldn’t stop talking about her new best friend Maya. She loved her doll, and she wanted everyone to know. Not long after, Samael angrily told his daughter to go play in the other room. Kierra took her doll to the other room, and while she tried her best not to listen, she couldn’t help but overhear her parents. 

“Why would you spend money on that ratty old thing?” 

“It’s her birthday and the move was hard. She’s starting a new school midyear on Monday and she doesn’t know anyone.” Mahli said exhaustedly.

“It’s a waste of MY money! That’s the only thing you’re good at, spending my money!” Angrily spit Samael. 

“The thing didn’t cost much and now she’s quiet and playing and not bothering me. You have no idea what it’s like dealing with her all day!” 

At that, Samael left the room and locked himself in his study. Mahli started washing the dishes with a faint crying. Kierra would have felt worse, but it was far from the first time she had heard such an argument. But now, she had her new friend to talk to. 

Kierra had a few days before she started her new school. She spent all her time playing with Maya. She was always with her. The family was still adjusting to their new home. It was an older house, so some creaking and sounds were expected. But some of them were a little odd. At night they could hear creaking in the hallway, followed by small footsteps. They would wake up to the sound of scratches at their door. The asked Kierra, but she knew nothing of it. Samael was frustrated and either his daughter was lying or his house had issues. He began wildly ranting and yelling. Kierra wanted to calm him down; she hated his tantrums. Kierra went to her father and told him to stop yelling, Maya hates his yelling. 

“Just shut up! You and that stupid doll.” Samael said grabbing the doll and throwing her to the floor. 

Samael then left to go pour himself a drink and call the woman who sold him the house to yell. Kierra was stunned. She fell to the ground to check her doll. She was still in one piece, but there was now a large crack down her face across her whole cheek. Kierra kept repeating, “he shouldn’t have done that, he shouldn’t have done that.” She felt afraid of what would happen now. 

The next morning was the day before Kierra’s first day at her new school. She sat down to have a breakfast of oatmeal with her parents. Like most meals, they ate in silence. Then suddenly, Samael stops eating, dropping his spoon. He opens his mouth and pulls something out, then spitting some blood into his napkin. He holds up what he had pulled from his mouth, a large shard of glass. He then explores the rest of his bowl. He turns it upside down and pours it all over the table. In his mess, there are other pieces of glass. Samael stands up, slamming his hands on the table and begins to yell. 

“You are an idiot who can’t even cook oatmeal right!” He yells at Mahli as he raises his hand to her. But Kierra tried to stop him. She attempted to tell him it wasn’t her; it was Maya. Samael knew his daughter was trying to make an excuse to stop him from hitting Mahli. He stops himself, and just silently goes to leave, muttering “good for nothing. Can’t even do her job and cook. I should’ve left you years ago.” 

 Mahli broke down crying. Kierra wanted to comfort her mother and walked over to hug her. But Mahli angrily pulled away while swatting her hands away. She then starts yelling at her little girl. 

“You ruined my life. He wasn’t like this before you came. I wish you never existed!"

Kierra ran crying to her room. She sat down in front of her doll and told her everything and how mad she was at her mom. Later that day, Mahli was scrubbing the kitchen floor. After washing it all, she went to pour out the dirty water in the bucket. She didn’t want to put the water in the kitchen sink, so she went to pour in the bathroom. When she was done, she went back to the kitchen to find muddy footprints all over the floor. Mahli yells for her daughter, who then comes down from her room. She tells her about the muddy footprints, and how she just cleaned the floor and now it’s all messed up. 

“What would your dad say if he had to come home to that mess!” She says, gesturing to the floor.

“But I didn’t do it!” Kierra pleaded. 

“Well, who did this? I didn’t, no one else is here. I know it was you. You will clean up your own mess.” 

“No one ever listens to me!” she says, stomping her foot.

Mahli grabs the bucket, gets out cleaning products, and pours ammonia into the bucket. Then she grabs Kierra roughly by the arm, dragging her into the bathroom to fill up the bucket and get ready to scrub the floor. Mahli is in front of the sink filling up the water while Kierra stood just outside the door pouting. The bathroom door shuts with Mahli inside and Kierra outside. She tells her daughter to open the door. She tried to open it herself, but the door was locked. She keeps pounding on the door telling her daughter to open it. When it won’t budge, she tells Kierra to go get the toolbox from the shed. Mahli had been cleaning all day; her cleaning products were all over. Mahli hears her daughter scramble and the backdoor close. But then she hears a thump and a knock, and suddenly she sees something pouring in from under the door. She can smell it and recognizes it as bleach. A bottle of bleach was knocked over. Mahli suddenly starts having trouble breathing. She doesn’t know what’s happening, but she’s fighting for oxygen. She’s screaming for the daughter to help her, but she knows she can’t hear her from outside. The more she tries to breathe, the more she struggles and she can’t scream at all. She started to collapse on the floor, fading in and out of conciseness. Then she passed out. Eventually, she comes to when she feels the cold water around her. The bucket was still filling and was now overflowing on to the floor. She looks up and sees the door is open. The bottle of bleach is gone. She turns off the water and goes to the kitchen, which has spotlessly clean floors. She calls her daughter, who comes from her room upstairs. She asks what happened, how did she get the door open. Kierra is confused; she told her mother she didn’t know what she’s talking about. Mahli rambles on about everything that happened and Kierra remains confused. She tells her mother she had been upstairs playing all day. Mahli looks around confused. She was sure it had all happened. While looking around the room for some kind of evidence, she saw three bottles of wine, 2 were empty and the other opened. There was a wine glass sitting on the coffee table. She tells her daughter to go back to her room to play. Then she puts the wine bottles into a trash bag, walks to a house at the end of the block and puts the bag in their trash cans. She doesn’t want her husband to know what happened that day. 

The next day was Kierra’s first day of school. She was nervous and excited, starting in the middle of the school year. She got dressed, ate her breakfast, and her mother dropped her off at school. Everyone already knew each other and already had their cliques. It was bad enough that she was alone at home; she started feeling alone at school too. She kept to herself in class. Her parents never asked about school, so she never mentioned how lonely she felt. Then one day the most popular girl in class, Erica, was handing out sleepover invitations to all the girls in class. Erica stopped in front of Kierra’s desk and stood over her looking down. She tossed an invitation on the desk and gave her a narrowed eye look. After Kierra picks up the envelope, Erica tells her that her mom made her invite everyone and that she shouldn’t feel special. But it didn’t matter, Kierra was too excited. She couldn’t wait for the weekend to come. After what felt like the three longest days of her life, Friday had finally arrived. Kierra’s mom pulled up to the house and dropped her off. Kierra packed her cutest PJ’s and her best friend, Maya. Erica’s parents hosted various activities for all the girls. Though no one really talked to her, she was still having fun. She had never really seen a happy family in real life, and it felt like magic being in a happy home. As the night went on, the girls all went to Erica’s room to listen to music and dance. All the girls went to get into their PJ’s before the fun started. Kierra went to pack her clothes into her bag and take out Maya. Then Erica and some of the mean girls walked up behind her. 

“What is that? She’s so old. Was she your grandma’s?” Erica said with a snicker.

“She’s my best friend. My mother found her at a second-hand shop.”

“Second hand? Like used? Ewe, you can’t even afford new toys.” Erica said to a round of laughter from her friends. 

“She’s the best doll in the world. You have no idea! And she doesn’t like when people make fun of her.” Kierra said, starting to get upset. 

“She doesn’t like it? Then she won’t like it when I tell you how ugly she is. Look at her broken face! She has an ugly face.” She said with a serious point-of-fact tone of voice.

“She’s not ugly!” Kierra yelled as she clutched Maya and ran crying from the room. 

The other girls laughed at her and decided to have fun without her. They turned on the music and started dancing to overly cheesy pop songs. A few dances later, the lights turn off and the music gets louder. Then one of the girls felt something brush by. 

“Is that you Erica?” one girl cried.

“This isn’t funny anymore,” exclaimed another. 

Then, there’s a scream. A loud blood curtailing shriek. Followed by wild laughter. Then the rest of the girls start to scream. The lights flicker on and off with a flash, and the girls see something moving in the shadows. The screams had brought Erica’s parents running to the room and quickly turned the lights on with no problem. They saw their child holding her face with a large cut across her cheek and blood on her hands. Just after Kierra appears in the doorway staring at the scene. They comforted their daughter and while her mother cleaned her up, her father arranged all the girls to get rides home for the night. Erica’s parents thought there must have been some accident when the lights went off and the girls got scared. But their daughter was frightened all the same. When Kierra’s mother pulled up, Kierra went to hug Erica and say goodbye like all the other girls had. When she had leaned in, she whispered in Erica’s ear. 

"You shouldn’t have made fun of her. I told you she didn’t like it. Now you have an ugly face.”

Kierra picked up her things and walked to the car. Erica was too scared to say anything, too scared of Maya. Erica missed the next few days of school, and when she came back, she was different. She kept to herself, she barely talked, and she was never around her friends anymore. As more days went by, Kierra fell into more of a routine. But the weekends were boring. She loved playing with Maya, but they needed something to do. One Saturday when Mahli was out running errands, Kierra went to ask her father to play with her and Maya. Every time she asked her father to play, he would tell her he was too busy and to leave him alone. Eventually, he became annoyed, yelled at her to get out of his study, and then locked the door behind her. He worked for hours, drinking and smoking until he finally emerged from the room. It was in the middle of the night when he went to pass out upstairs. Sometime later, he woke up to his wife shaking him, saying she smells smoke. He eventually got up and ran to find out what was happening. He sees the smoke coming from his study. The fire is burning his desk. He ran to put it out, but it was too late, everything had been ruined, all his work. Mahli was angry, screaming. 

“Your smoking could have killed us! If you weren’t so drunk you wouldn’t have left a cigarette burning on your desk!” she says through tears. 

Tired, angry, and exacerbated, Samael smacks Mahli and tells her to shut up. It’s his house and he is the one who lost all his work; she lost nothing. 

After the fire, Samael spent twice as much time working in his office to make up for everything he lost. Mahli kept up her routine of cooking and cleaning, trying to avoid anything that would make Samael unhappy. Kierra kept going to school and sitting alone. She had still not made any friends, and the mean girls hated her because they blamed her for what happened to Erica. One day, the class was given a test to take. Kierra had prepared, but the classmate next to her hadn’t. One of the mean girls cheated off her test. Their teacher, Ms. Bellor, noticed the matching answers and confronted the two of them. The cheating classmate blamed Kierra, saying she must have cheated. She then had her friends agree; blaming Kierra, they said they knew Kierra was the one who cheated. Kierra got in trouble and was punished with after school detention with Ms. Bellor for two days. She kept trying to tell her she didn’t cheat. But the teacher kept telling her she needed to own up to her mistakes. 

“No one ever listens to me,” Kierra said. She sat angrily all detention long. The next day she decided she wanted to have a friend at school, so she brought Maya with her. But at recess, Ms. Bellor sees. She told Kierra no toys are allowed during school. She confiscated the doll and locked her in her desk drawer. She told Kierra she could have it back at the end of the day. She then tucks the key under her desk calendar. Ms. Bellor leaves the room during the after-school detention to make some copies. Detention ends, but Ms. Bellor hadn’t come back yet. Mahli was impatiently waiting for her daughter, already upset about having to wait for the detention. She tells her daughter she’ll just have to get her doll back tomorrow. Kierra kept crying, saying she wants her back now. But her mom just pulls her to the car and shoves her in, then drove away. Ms. Bellor came back to the classroom and sat down. Then she suddenly yelped and stood back up. She looked at her chair and found a thumbtack. She assumed it fell on to the chair, moved it, and sat back down. Later she went to clean the chalkboard, but when she wiped the board with the eraser, she was cut by a piece of glass poking out the eraser. It broke through the top of the eraser when pressure was put on it. Before she could think about what happened, she went to her desk drawer to get a bandage. When she went to open up her desk drawer, it was stuck. She used her one hand to tug on the drawer. Then it popped open, only to have a broken ruler pop out and stab her in her arm. She was surprised and hurt. When she tried to stand up, she slipped on the floor and fell to the ground hitting her head on the floor. She began to bleed from her head and slowly faded away. She is left slowly bleeding all night until the students walked in early the next morning. By then, her body was cold. The other girls scream and run away at the sight of all the blood. The principal came and comforted the girls. The school sent everyone home. The school closed for the day, and the news spreads. 

Later that day, Mahli went to her daughter’s room to talk to her about what happened. She sees her in her room playing with her doll. She remembers the doll was in the teacher’s desk, so she asks how she got it back. Kierra said she didn’t know what mother was talking about, she never lost her doll. Maya wouldn’t like to be left alone, especially in a dark drawer, she’s scared of the dark. Since the incident in the bathroom, or her dream of it, Mahli has begun questioning everything. So, she decided that maybe she imagined all of that too. But she still had a lurking feeling. As she left her daughter’s room, she said to herself that her daughter was so weird, why couldn’t she just be normal? Kierra overheard, and she hugged Maya for comfort, telling her she was normal, it was her mother that wasn’t. 

That weekend while playing in the backyard with Maya, Kierra saw the neighbor’s cat. She tried to play with the cat, but the cat hissed at her and scratched her. Kierra cried. Mahli came to check on her. Mahli looked around the yard to see the cat messing with her garden. She ran over and swats at the cat screaming about her garden.

“That damned cat keeps getting into our yard and ruining my garden!” Mahli said exasperated. 

Mahli picked up the cat and walked to the neighbor’s house. She yelled at her neighbors about the cat messing up her garden, and if she does it again, she’ll do something to make sure the cat never gets back into her garden. Mahli spent all dinner complaining about the cat. 

“It’s a bad cat, it scratched me when I just wanted to play,” Kierra claimed.

Her mother went on, muttering, “If they can’t control it I will.” 

She refilled her wine glass many times throughout dinner. When getting ready for bed, she came back down to pour another glass of wine from the open bottle and took her sleeping pill. She felt extra tired, and it seemed like her pill was hitting much harder than normal. Later that night the mother was tossing and turning and woke to a messy scene. Her hands had dried blood on them, her feet were covered in mud. Her arms are covered in long scratches. Mahli began to freak out and ran to the bathroom to wash off the blood and dirt. She started washing her hands when she saw something in the mirror, something in the bathtub. She slowly walked over. That was where she saw it: the mangled body of the neighbor’s cat lying in the tub. She couldn’t remember doing this; she couldn’t remember anything. Everything had been off; she felt she was going crazy. She locked herself in the bathroom screaming and crying, rocking on the floor. Samael woke up and eventually burst through the locked door. After the incident, Mahli became catatonic. She hadn’t spoken a word and made no eye contact. She is taken to the hospital where a doctor prescribed her a tranquilizer and a slew of other medications. 

Mahli started her new routine of taking lots of medication to “even her out” and she was a walking zombie. She almost never talked, she was gone for all intents and purposes, and she was constantly numb. Samael was angry and tired and didn’t want to deal with his wife. He didn’t want to take care of his daughter; he avoided her and had her do everything for herself. Eventually, her father decided he needed to send his daughter away. He found a school cheap and far. It was a strict Catholic boarding school. When he told Kierra about his decision, she was shocked and scared. She didn’t want to go to some school filled with nuns swatting at kids with rulers. He told her she had no choice, as long as he’s around, she will do what he says. She cried to her mother, begging her to help. Her mother just sat up straight staring off into space. Kierra kept tugging at her arm and begging. Eventually, she turned to her daughter, and in a monotone voice, without feeling, told her, “You ruined my life. He wasn’t like this before you came. I wish you never existed” She kept repeating the same thing over and over, speaking louder and louder until she was screaming it at the top of her lungs. Samael gave her another pill.

“Your mother is gone. She can’t help you anymore.” He said just as emotionlessly as his wife. 

Kierra ran to her room crying, saying, “I won’t go. I won’t!”

That night Kierra asked for dinner. Her father waved her off and told her to bring him a drink. Kierra leaves and comes back a few minutes later with his drink. Her mother was already passed out from her pills, lying in bed. It was where she spent most of her time since the hospital. Samael began to feel tired himself. The things around him started to go hazy, and everything looked blurry. He tried to stand up, but he staggered and fell to the floor. 

Mahli woke just slightly when she heard footsteps. She blinked her eyes open, but everything was still in a haze and she couldn’t see anything but shadows. She was awake enough to know she was conscious, but she couldn’t move. She then saw a large white fuzzy shadow coming towards her. Suddenly, it’s over her face entirely. She couldn’t breathe. She started trying to move, but when she got the strength to try, she found they didn’t go far. Her hands and feet were tied to the bed. She tried to scream, but the sound was nothing but a muffled faint buzz. She struggled, trying to thrash her limp body but couldn’t move. Then, she stopped moving altogether. Her body went limp and her shaking stopped. 

Samael woke up just slightly. He was barely awake; his body felt like a thousand pounds and he couldn’t move at all. He did feel his mouth being opened. He knew something was filling his mouth all the way to the back of his throat. Then cool water and his throat massaged. He realized he was being forced to swallow pills. Once one round of pills went down, the next came. Then the smell of alcohol and the burning of it in his eyes and running up his nose as it was sloppily poured on him. He slowly got weaker, and everything got fuzzier. Then he faded away completely.

The police said it was a murder-suicide. The father finally snapped when his wife got sick. He couldn’t manage and killed her. Then the guilt overcame him and he overdosed on his wife’s medicine. The saddest part, they left behind their little girl. But at least her aunt stepped up and took her in. The little girl was finally let back into the house to collect her things. Her aunt helped her load the car when the little girl remembered she left something. She tells her aunt she’ll be right back and runs up to her room. She opened her toy chest. Underneath everything, she reaches in and grabs the collar. The jingling sound of the cat’s collar with blood still stains on it. She puts the collar in her pocket and runs back to her aunt. 

She got in the backseat of the car and her aunt saw her with her doll in the rearview mirror. She cringes a little.

“That doll is a bit creepy eh?” She said half-joking.

The little girl lets out a chuckle. “Don’t worry Aunt Sky; she’s just a doll, dolls don’t get angry. But little girls do.”

Kierra smiled from the backseat, she watched from the window as they pulled out of the driveway. All the while talking to her doll, knowing she would never talk back.

Like I said, this is a story about a little girl. It was always about a little girl. Dolls don’t get angry. But little girls do.