Fiction: Group 4
“Don’t you say you’re not that good! Everyone knows…”
She went on babbling for the rest of the walk home. I held my head down. Every good
thing she said about me was like one knife after another. Her compliments were the exact opposite of the
reality I lived in.The knives cut deeper and deeper wounds in me. I could’ve told her the truth, maybe she
would care. But no one ever listened.They thought I was way too perfect to have things going wrong in my
life. My soul burnt in turmoil. She was right about one thing, though: I was a doll. Lifeless, cold, but perfect
to the outside world. It was like I only existed to be appreciated by others who didn’t realize their fortunate
lives. I wasn’t allowed to feel, or to be cared for. I should remain perfect and fine forever, but I couldn’t. I
might not talk much, I might live in a mansion, but that didn’t mean I was perfect. I had my own problems
and feelings.This wasn’t fair.
I left for my dollhouse without saying goodbye. I never did anyways. Ignoring the feeling
of being stared at, I stepped inside the barren lounge. I avoided the shattered glass pieces as I entered the
kitchen. Great.This time who ever it was broke my favorite glass.This particular glass was from my only
friend. She gave it to me as a sign of friendship, then died in an accident the day after. Fury rose,“As if I
hadn’t suffered enough” I thought. I turned around and my eyes went straight to the giant mirror. I
remembered the only time there wasn’t broken fragments of clothes, needles or silverware on the kitchen
tiles.Then I heard my parents and brother yelling across the room.
“This is it.”
I dumped my bag, leaving it on top of the glass pieces. I stomped into the living room and
stood right in front of my raging family abruptly.They stopped. I never intervened in affairs like these, they
didn’t think I cared. I grabbed my dad’s bag and swiped his phone off the coffee table.That’s where he hid all
his dirty secrets. I snatched my brother’s sledgehammer and smashed my dad’s phone along with his drug
apparatus. Stepping on the fragments, I went over to the shelf and retrieved a hand gun. I smashed all the
framed family pictures. I always hated these sarcastic pictures of our family. My mother screamed while the
useless men backed away with their wobbly legs. I didn’t know how to shoot.With them at safe distance, I
shot the chandelier and out the window. Pieces fell on me, slicing my skin, revealing red flesh, proving I was
not made of stone. Nothing could vaguely compare to the pain gushing out me. I exhaled, done with my
home wrecking.All was still.A draught blew inside the house through the gunshot hole. I had a new
sensation of freshness and relief.
“Never thought your quiet little girl would do this, huh?” I chuckled embarrassedly. “But I’ve
had enough. I’m sick of our phony house. Dad’s cheating, Kyle is doing drugs, Mum’s acting like she
doesn’t know anything. Do you guys genuinely believe that I don’t sense things changing? Nobody notices
when I leave the house. I swear Dad spends his time on his phone more than he looks at me in a week.
What happened to the warm family when I was young? What happened to my loving parents? What
happened to my supportive brother who was always there for me? Everyone thinks we’re perfect, but we’re
a broken. Every praise about us is so sarcastic. Are you guys enjoying ruining a family in order to vent?
What about me? There’s no one I could flirt with, nothing I could get addicted to, nothing I could do
when I’m down. I hid my feelings for the sake of this family, the one thing I ever loved. And now you guys
are being selfish by using my feigned innocence and destroyed my only possession. I am fed up. I’m fed up
of having to be careful not to step on broken plates or vases when I get back home. I’m fed up of choking
and gasping for air when I pass Kyle’s room. What is it that we can’t solve as a family? People say we are a
dollhouse, but this is what really happens.”
I stood at the door. “Oh and don’t worry about the mess I made, worry about the mess
you guys made. Some things can always be replaced, but some things can’t.”
I believed it was a dramatic exit. I felt the weight fall off my chest. I didn’t care how they
were going to react. We could always pretend nothing ever happened, that’s what we do best. I needed
some time alone. I sat down by the dock near my house and gazed into the blue sky.
“Hey.”
I jumped violently, an inch from falling off into the water. He clutched my arm to keep
me balanced. Flustered, my cheeks were hot as lava. It was Finn, my neighbor who I had been shyly falling
for for the past three years.
“I heard some noises from your place, is everything good?” He sat down beside me, our
shoulders brushing slightly. After my weak nod, he said casually, ”I know how it’s like to be in a bad
family.”
