A new reality (Sayonika)

Monika

I was sitting in one of the guest rooms in my grandmas house, trying to catch up on my school work. I had emailed my teachers earlier on, letting them know that I would be absent for the day, they just sent me the work I missed. I was finding it difficult to concentrate though, my mind would wander every few minutes or so and I'd have to pull myself from the new world it walked into, a world of infinite choices and possibilities. A world where we we're all finally happy, free from the pages of this story that we're all trapped in. It's always sad to remember that this imaginary world is fake.

I look back through all the files I had been sent containing my work, feeling frustrated by my short attention span, I've never been this bad before. Over time, I learnt how to focus and how important it was to focus but recently things have been distracting me easily, I'd always end up thinking of Sayori and how she was doing without me, she meant the world to me. However I knew I had to wind my neck in eventually, I can't dwell on this crush forever otherwise it would destroy me and my future.

I start to type out an essay I had been set for English, a question about Macbeth and how the idea of insanity is presented in the play. I had answered many questions like this before so I knew what I was doing, my teacher always seemed happy with my answers anyways.

Shakespeare presents insanity as an important theme in the play as...

I couldn't put it into words, I'm just reminded of those horrible days in the past when I over worked myself to the point where I wouldn't leave my room, my mother was so proud of me, she used to call me her little Macbeth. Of course I don't kill people, I would never kill a person, she called me that because I never let anyone or anything get in the way of me and my goals, I'd do anything to get to success. I shiver as the memories slowly creep back to haunt me, those weeks in my room were some of the worst. I had constant headaches, stomach cramps and I remember leaving for the first time and looking into a mirror only to see a reflection that was not my own. The girl that had stared back at me had pale white skin, her eyes had lost colour, her hair was dull and looked like a birds nest, she looked lifeless and dead to the world. It took a while for her to get back to my routine, for her to become me again and even then that small part of her remained, those tiny imperfections cling to me like leeches, sucking out my confidence as if it were blood. I could do nothing to stop it.

I sigh and slam the laptop shut, I had the whole weekend to finish my work anyways. I look around the room, trying to push away my oncoming anxiety attack by fixing my attention on something more interesting than homework. This is the room I always stay in when I visit my grandma, the toy room as I like to call it, a place where I could play while my mother bitched about my father to my grandma downstairs in the kitchen. It had been years since I had last played with the dolls in the toy chest, I was maybe 13 at the time though I can't exactly remember all the details. There had been many dolls but I remember playing with 5 of them, the ones that looked different from the others.

I walked over to the toy chest and knelt next to it, brushing off the dust that had settled on the surface of its wooden lid before lifting it up to reveal a musty mess of toys beneath. I reached inside and pulled out my first childhood doll who had of course been named Dolly by 4 year old me, she was a simple potato-sack ragdoll made by my great aunt who had previously passed it down to my grandma when she was a little girl. I remember loving Dolly with all my heart, hugging her until her stuffing went flat and nibbling on her hand until it ripped open and had to be sewn back up again. She was a source of ugly comfort, the one who didn't need to be beautiful to be loved. I kiss her limp head gently before placing her down on the floor.

I looked inside and found my next friend, Esme the pretty princess. Esme was different to me because she didn't fit the typical "girlish doll" stereotype, she was strong-willed and ruled with an iron fist... but she always had time for a lovely tea party with the others. Esme had jet black hair and pale skin, the reddest lips and her eyes shined with a silver, murderous glint, the pretty princess part of her name makes me laugh now as she's the complete opposite. She was based off of some old fairy tale that had been forgotten over time, she was a lost queen and that's what I love about her, she was my own story now. I dipped my head in a little bow as I sat her next to Dolly.