Stitches

Lolita Dolls

I was seven years old. Playing outside with my older brother. After around half an hour, a little girl, maybe 5, ran up to me. She was wearing a lolita dress, with a cute blue bunny, she was oddly pale, with dirty blonde hair in two braids with bangs. She was holding what looked like a lollipop, but, it was.. Discolored. She told me to follow her, to show me something cool, but I said no. She made me uncomfortable. She grabbed my short, dark hair and somehow knocked me out. I woke up by a broken bed in the middle of nowhere. Only fog around. I saw the little girl. I realized I was covered in scratches and scrapes. "Did you like being dragged, you misbehaving little brat? Only good kids deserve a good life. I was a bad kid, but I started acting good, and now I hunt the bad kids. You were on my list. Be good, or you'll become like them." She pointed. Part of the fog cleared, showing a pile of dolls, in lolita dresses. A little boy emerged from that pile, and walked right past us, to a pile of teddy bears, all messily stitched, with stuffing sticking out of them. The boy said, "I've been a bad kid." He took the form of one of the poor bears. It looked painful. "The boys turn into that monstrosity, What's your gender?" I was too nervous to answer. "I-i don't know."

"Ah! You'll be kept alive til you decide. But you're not off the hook! You'll get stitches for now."

"Stitches?! I'm a girl, I promise! I'd rather be a doll! Please!"

"Too late."

She poked me with a needle. My eyes teared up. I need to get out of here. But how? I tried to run. The needle just cut through my skin.

"Are you sure you want to run? He might get mad. Plus where will you even run? It's all fog, and piles, and graves."

In tears from the cut on my arm, I somehow managed to say, "Wh-whose 'he'?"

"The one who made me like this! Papa! He's down that hole if you want to talk to him."

How did I not see that hole there? I woke up right above it, in that weird bed. "What will he say?"

"He can put the stitches in better than i can, and he can also make you like me. So?"

I didn't want my skin to be damaged from this five year old, but at the same time, he seems scary. Or do I want to be a living doll? Before I could decide, I was pushed down the hole.

"You were taking too long to decide, so I decided for you! Have fun! I have to go find more of you. Buh-bye!" I heard her walk away.

"Hello?! Is he here?!"

I heard a mysterious, mischievous voice.

"Ah yes, he is here."

"Where is he..?"

"Right... HERE!"

A light turned on, revealing cages, with sleeping children, stitched up, and a man in an office chair that seemed very out of place. He was in a funky outfit to say the least, a colorful suit, but his tie was undone. He has sleek, dark purple hair. He had glasses, and a smirk on his face. He almost looked like a dad.

"Did my assistant cut you? Of course she did. She claims to be a good child, then goes behind my back and attempts the stitching herself. Anyway, sit."

I nervously stood there, not sure what to do.

"Sit!" he yelled in a harsh voice.

I fell into a rocking chair that practically came out of nowhere. He grabbed my face, and started to stitch my mouth together. I tried to scream. My throat closed up. I could barely breathe. He kept stitching. He finished my mouth. "Now your eyes."

I couldn't open my mouth. He started my eyes, and I felt blood drip down my face. Next thing I remembered, I was in a cage. My limbs looked stitched on my body. I was pale, and cold. I could barely see, and what I could see was blood red. I rubbed the blood out of my eyes. I could see. All that was in the cage with me was a red stuffed bunny and a mirror. I looked at myself. I had braids in my hair, and it looked like I was in a hospital gown, but almost soaked in blood. After thinking, I realized I looked like the kids I saw in cages earlier. All wearing the same thing. They all looked the same. I was one of them.