The Doll

the room is small

doesn’t look much like a courtroom

the offender, more like the murderer

is two people mixed into one

the fiance and the murderer they caught

the room does not contain breathable air

it carries the tightening, chest combusting,

scream, and cry air

keep it all in, everyone is watching

the judge must not see the emotion

i know my face is contorted, uncomfortable

mom is there, breaking, maybe even praying

she doesn’t pray

judgement is given

he, they, are guilty

the cool air pours over me like a blessing

my hands hold the box

there are dolls in it

one doll has a caring face, parently

another has the face of an abuser

these dolls are them

one doll is missing

the most important doll

all dolls must be in the box

all of them

but one, one is missing

the lights flicker

a heavy metal rests in me

metallic taste 

a scream rips out

a man in a room with a glass window disappears

it’s black

all i hear is fear and murder

and tiny footsteps

About the Author

Bobbie Stein is a Business Administration major, English-Creative Writing minor. She is a junior at Arcadia University and is the treasurer of American Sign Language Club. Bobbie enjoys reading, writing, and watching Netflix in her free time.