The dream
My name is Marionnetta, I was created as a puppet for the sole reason to be a vessel to fill the void of a woman, or so my maker had said. Now I am nothing, for I do not have my creator. I belong to the streets of Aetheriall along with winter biting my hand. At least I assume, for feelings I hath none. I watch and I notice everything. The buildings which are covered in snow like a cloak except they do not bring warmth. I surmise this coldness. The streetlights are lit before dark as it cannot tell whether it’s day or night from the clouds and fog covering every evidence of the sun even being a thing. I crave to feel, to move my legs and run freely, yet the porcelain legs I was created with were not meant to walk, my maker knew this. Oh if I had blood and flesh I would be free. As for now I do not feel as deeply as others, I am weak. I was forged in flaw. So I sit here against a wall waiting for someone to set me free and use the empathy which they take for granted and use that empathy for me.
“ Dear, oh dear! Are thou alright young lady?” An old man spoke, as I’m assuming because of his rough voice. My eyes had been shut from ice and my limbs were stiff. I wanted to speak but my mouth had also frozen shut. So all I could do was pray that he understood.
“The cold is too harsh for anyone, I shall bring thee in.” He speaks as he guides me. I limp along as much as I am capable of doing, and soon my eyes fall and darkness falls along.
I awake from my lumber and I find myself within an apothecary’s home, the strong smell of lemon balm, lavender, rosemary and thyme. I remember the lavender the strongest because of my creator who would always brew some while working in his small wood workshop of trinkets and gadgets. Soon after the man who I can tell was the one who brought me in comes in. He has round silver framing glasses
with gears sticking out and a bushy beard which like smoke and the spikiest hair sticking up everywhere like electricity.
“Hello young lady, I am a humble clockmaker, My name is Elias, I had brought you in because I could not leave someone out there in that fierce weather.” Elias says and then he looks at me for a little.
“ I have crafted for you a new set of legs and a heart that does not beat with blood but with beats of clockwork. This may not be my place to say or ask, but yet i could not ignore that thy had been made with not the precision that thou should have been made with. Whoever had created you had done a terrible job in everything but your face, what a strange lad.” He said. then he thought. His thoughts seemed so loud despite him not saying a word.
“Excuse me?” I said bluntly. I had then realised that I should not have as he had made me limbs that looked much studier and an almost real heart.
“No offence intended of course, but thou should take these gifts without pressure, i will not take any offence if you do not want them.. You know, I had made a heart just like this one for a young lad before, though he had a real heart, he had asked me to make him one and replace it with the machine.
Strange man he was but he was respectful, I often wonder where he is now.. Regardless, before I stray any longer I would like to ask you to work for me and my wife in our shop, where both time and medicine are our crafts” Elias spoke in an eager tone. This was a chatty man but had a gentle soul. I later agreed to his offer of employment and rested at the room he and his wife had given me when she had come home. Her
name was Marie. She and her husband were extremely kind. Marie had told me the tales of her daughter and how she had been sold off to the hunters program where she fought beasts and served in the army. She has told me that I was so similar to her daughter in terms of looks. And by the time night had fallen I had thought so much. I had thought about the human that Father Elias spoke about and how he cast aside the blessing of a real beating heart for some false imitation. That man would have been extremely foolish to have done something so stupid. I thought about the “parents” that I had gained, although I felt as if I did not deserve to be able to call them such titles as mother or father, but it brought me comfort, the one emotion I felt most. I thought about the girl who had left her parents for the hunters army and in the ways we could have been similar, although I couldn’t think of much as she seemed much braver and courageous than I.
And just like that 2 years had gone by and 1 year of Mother Marie having that terrible illness, and just like that she was gone. Elias weeped a flood of tears, his grief so heavy that it sickened him in return. Alas, he was gone one day and the next he did not return. DING DONG the doorbell clock went and outside was a giant package so ever perfect with wrappings of small hearts. I opened the package and there lay organs, everything, and a human heart and instructions on how I should take it and a farewell letter. His heart. And when I was ready I performed surgery on myself.
I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know. My heart feels so heavy. I feel every thump and the blood. I don’t know how long it’s been since I passed out after the surgery. I am human…? A puppet…? What am I? Why am I here if I have no one to serve? Why do I feel so miserable?
I wept for so long. Days went by, then months, then a year. The shop which was once filled with ticking clocks had run out of batteries. The shop, the legacy, had gone. I searched drawers until I had found a picture, a picture of a girl identical to me and my parents. It all clicked then. My creator had created me based on her. To everyone I was just a replacement. I felt furious. I wanted to die. I wanted my clock heart back. I wanted to be someone not someone else. I grabbed a needle and pushed it through my nose bridge. I saw it in a magazine once. A nose bridge piercing. It was so painful but the pain felt soothing. I looked in the mirror, I was leaving.
And just like that, I was finally done writing my story for Mr. Coronado’s class. I turned it in and went to sleep. The next morning it was monday, It was the day the narrative was due. I walked to class excited to share my story. It was something very special to me.
“YUSRA! WHAT IS THIS CRAPPY STORY! IT DOESN’T EVEN MATCH THE RUBRIC PLUS ANSWER THE QUESTION I ASKED YOU 17 TIMES” Mr. Coronado yelled.
“HUH?!!! WAIT WHAT HAPPENED?” I jumped from my day dreams. Man, I’m totally failing, I thought to myself.
“ I ASKED YOU A QUESTION!” he yelled again. I was so screwed. I looked at my friend and she mouthed the words “ how does this story relate to a personal experience”.
“Well Mr. Coronado, the thing is whenever I was asked the question ‘what do want be when you grow up’ I would never know. All I knew was that I wanted to do something creative, something that allowed me to write, draw and imagine. I knew it was not ‘realistic’ but that was something I wanted to do. That story that I wrote was not something that I made up just yesterday but it was something I have been working on for over 2 years, and it’s not just with ‘Marionnetta’ but with more than twenty plus characters because it’s something I’m really passionate about. After making that story I knew exactly what I wanted to do in life, I wanted to become a writer. Whether it was for a game or for a novel. I know it’s unrealistic but I want to try my hardest” I went on rambling.
“ Okay you can do that in your free time but this writing was for a personal experience and I don’t think you are a puppet whose parents killed themselves to give you their heart buddy” Mr Coronado said unimpressed and a few other kids nodded.
“Uhhh… well I mean it is technically a personal experience that shaped me because it made me want to make a video game?” I said nervously. Man I screwed up…
“Well regardless of that your grammar and punctuation is also horrible, you are never gonna become a writer, plus you went way over the word limit, nobody is gonna read that. I’m gonna give you a D for dedication!” Mr. Coronado spoke cheerfully.
“WHAT?! Man, I guess that is the price of freedom..” I said for the last punchline.
THE END
(PS: hahaha get it? Price of Freedom from Final fantasy 7 Crisis core. Also I’M SO SORRY MR.CORONADO, anyways I’m so tired it’s 11:31 pm. Also I promise this was preplanned and it was meant to end like this. ALSO MR. CORONADO PLEASE PLEASE DONT ACTUALLY GIVE ME A D FOR DEDICATION I WAS KIDDING!!!!!!)