Marionette

Prologue: The Making of Posy

Prologue:

     Let's start with a character.

     Gender? Female, obviously. Age? Let's make her fifteen, like Ava. Eyes? Hair? Skin colour? I thought of Ava again. Brown, Brown, and pale. Body shape? Ava's. Average height for her age, slim and strong. A dancer's body. Hold on--what was her hair like? Short and curly? Long and straight? Well, girls in these stories always seem to have long, wavy hair. I can always change it later. Perfect eyesight. I know how annoying glasses can be. She likes tea, vintage clothes, reading, writing poetry. She is a romantic. Or maybe she should have glasses? She can't be too perfect. Okay, but they're awesome glasses. I googled sixties glasses and a bunch of pics came up. Naturally, she'd have vintage glasses. Not the cat-eye glasses that secretaries wore in old movies. This girl wasn't a secretary--she was a boss. I'd make her one. Clubmaster framed reading glasses.

     She likes to wear makeup, although she usually doesn't. She forgets to, since she's always wondering what will come next in whatever book she's reading. Wide eyes. Her eyes didn't start out wide, but she's so curious about everything that they just kind of grew bigger as time went on. There. That's enough work for today.

     "Wait!" 

     I could hear her voice. The kind of voice that was sweet and light and sounded like she was singing even when she wasn't.

     "Can I please have a name?"

     "A name?" I repeated. It was a simple request. "Sure. Give me a sec."

     I went to the first baby naming site that popped up on Google, then clicked a random letter of the alphabet and picked the first girl name on the list.

     "Pabla," I said.

     "Are you sure?"

     I wasn't, but I could change it tomorrow.

     "I'd rather have a name now, please."

     Ugh.

     "Paige?" I tried.

     "Better, but not really my style, don't you think?"

     "Pansy?"

     "Uh, no. I thought you wanted me to be a boss. How boss can I be if my name is Pansy?"

     "Patience? Never mind. That one's definitely not you."

     "Hey!"

     "Patricia? Penelope? Pheonix? That's a cool name."

     "Hmm. Maybe."

     I looked over to where she stood in the corner of my room, barefoot, wearing a sleeveless cream-coloured dress with a rosy flower crown. Not exactly the look you'd expect for someone named after a fiery bird. I shook my head and continued.

     "Phillys? Polly? Posy?"

     "Posy. I like that one."

     I raised my eyebrows. "Are you sure? It seems sort of...simple?"

     "That's why I like it! Does the site say what it means?"

     I hovered my mouse over the name and the meaning popped up.

     "Little flower," I read. I looked over at Posy and the name just seemed to fit. She knew it, too. She beamed at me.

     "Posy it is," I said, saving my work and turning my laptop off.

     Posy's smile disappeared. "Wait! Where do I live? What's my family like? You're not done!"

     "It's one-thirty in the morning and I'm tired," I said. "I'll do the rest tomorrow. Why don't you hop back into my imagination and find a nice meadow to frolic in?"

     Posy frowned as I shed my Great Gatsby sweater and climbed into bed.

     "I don't want to go into your head, it's too dark in there. Besides, what if I run into some spoilers?"

     "Suit yourself," I mumbled, turning off my lamp. My room evaporated into darkness. The silence was nice, at least while it lasted.

     "You mind is horrible," Posy whispered.

     I didn't say anything, hoping she'd keep it at that.

     "You probably used all the sweet stuff you could think of to create me. I can only imagine what I'll get for a setting. Probably a stormy night with a haunted house and dead parents and doom."

     I sighed loudly. She didn't get the hint.

     "You're going to set me up with a great boy, right? I want him to treat women with respect and care about my feelings and--"

     "Shut up!" I told her, flicking on the light so I could look her in the eye. "For your information, you are not made of sweet stuff. You are made of awesomeness with an icing cover so that fifteen-year-olds flock to read about you before realizing you are a boss and already being too into the story to back out! And I wasn't even thinking of the horrible set-up you were talking about. That was all you! So who's mind is worse, I wonder? And about the boy--"

     Posy leaned forward, her face carefully blank.

     "I thought you didn't want spoilers," I said.

     "Well I can't help being curious! Wouldn't you want to know who your soulmate is and what they're like?"

     "I know nothing about your soulmate," I told her honestly. "Maybe in the night I'll dream about him and write him up when his part comes along."

     Posy smiled.

     "To do that, I'd have to sleep. Okay?"

     She nodded seriously. I sighed and turned the light back off, then I got under my covers and closed my eyes.

     "One more question."

     I groaned. Posy must've taken that as a go ahead.

     "What's your name?"

     "Ivy."

     "Like the plant."

     "Yup. Now shut up."

     "Okay."

     Finally. I sighed contentedly.

     "Goodnight, Ivy."

     For a moment, I considered having a character who was born without a mouth.

     "Goodnight, Posy."

     "I really like that name."

     I tried to ignore her. 

     "Okay I'll be quiet now."