Sky's View

Broken Doll

Skyler

I run until I reach the sidewalk of Westbridge. The forest's dullness splits, and the sky's lurid white light puts a spotlight for Westbridge row of terraced houses. The street is as quiet as a cemetry, but far away, a flight away, I can hear my own house. I can hear it breathing. This is my second winter here, and definitely my last.

By the time I reach The Corner Cafe, I'm heaving. I didn't mind dying when those tried using me as a death experiment. Like it's not the last to do on my bucket list.

I exert enough pressure to swing the door open. It smells like rich coffee inside, and "No woman, no cry," by Bob Marley is playing on the jukebox.

I scan the cafe for Emily's braided head. I sigh a breath of relief when I see her busy taking a customer's order.

I scuttle across the cafe to the door behind the counter. The waitresses nod and smile at me as they take the other door which leads to the kitchen. I drop my head down- as usual- and disappear behind the door, hurrying upstairs. I swing the door open to our apartment and steal into my room, sinking down on my bed that squeaks.

If only my mother knew about me sleeping on a squeaky bed. To be frank, being away from home gives me time to breathe. Although Emily was sent a long list that sweeps the floor based on what I can and can not do.

I wish I took a ride on a train.

My sister, Sierra, took train ride once. Without mom knowing of course. She even planned on taking me with her the next time around. But of course, it never happened.

A knock on my door startles me. It creaks open.

"Skyler Balifonte." Emily's melodic voice echoes as she pops her head in the c***k. "I have eyes on the back of my head, don't think I didn't see you sneak in."

She paces in, her wide hips swaying side to side, and stands in front of me with her hands pulled against her red blouse chest.

"And what's with missing therapy today?"

Shifting her weight to her other leg, she raises her eyebrows expecting me to respond, perhaps, but I stare at her, expressionless. I wont respond to her, and she knows I won't, but still, she tries. They all try.

My parents only try to help themselves; It's not about me.

Her brief chuckle vibrates her dark chocolate round face. The frivolity across her face flits, and is replaced by solemnity.

"Anyway, Sky. Your mom called. They'll send you a ticket when they're back home from their business trip." Her tone sounds futile.

Pressure builds in my chest, and I feel it tightening.

They thought it is the environment. They thought changing states will help me. They don't realize that I'm a doll with broken limbs. Even in my new world I'm still the same. My old bedroom is neon bright with natural light coming from the balcony; the walls painted white, and electronics beep; lights flicker. My new bedroom is dim lit like an old library, the wooden boards beneath my feet creaking here and there; revived with the euphoric smell of books drawing you in. Yet, I'm still a broken doll.

Emily cups my hands resting on my school's standard blue pleated skirt. "You can't stay mute forever, Sky. It's been three years for God's sake."

My eyes feel shiny, damp. I suck in my breath, and turn my face away from Emily to stare at the book shelve contained with every book I've ever read since I've got here.

"Alright, then. I take the hint," she says. "I'll go."

Her weight makes the bed squeak as she erect.

While she's at it, she sighs, long and loud.

"Alright then," she finally says, and turns to go.

I watch her leave.

Then I pat the side of my bed for the notebook- a habit- I can't live without.

Oh, no. My notebook!

My mind trails off to what transpired in the forest.