Standing before the bathroom mirror, The Doll realized that she had never willingly contacted The Strings before and didn't know how to contact it of her own volition. The Doll had hoped that The Strings may simply appear in the bathroom mirror like it had yesterday. But as The Doll stared into her own reflection, she merely saw the dark colorless eyes she had grown used to seeing.
Taking a deep breath The Doll intensified her gaze in the mirror that power. The Strings offered her yesterday; she needed to find out more about it. The Doll couldn't just sit back and let the headmaster solve her problems, and she also couldn't let The Strings do whatever it wanted. The Doll needed to find the right answer that suited her.
The Doll tried speaking to The Strings, “I would like to speak with you.” The Doll kept her gaze steady on the mirror, looking for any change in expression that would indicate The Strings was listening to her.
Silence.
Nothing happened in the mirror; no change in eye color or expression overtook what The Doll currently saw. Slightly annoyed by this The Doll spoke again, “You call on me whenever you want despite my resistance, but now I'm willingly offering to talk to you, and you remain silent?” The Doll felt ridiculous trying to reason with this creature that was currently refusing to even show itself.
Silence yet again.
Yet again nothing happened, so The Doll continued to attempt reasoning with The Strings, “This is your chance to talk with me willingly; it might be the only one you get.” The Strings wanted to control The Doll and she was willingly giving it the opportunity to convince her to give up control again, yet it refused to speak.
Silence filled the room again while The Doll awaited a response.
The Doll opened her mouth to speak again but quickly closed it, seeing no point in saying the same thing with different words. The Doll needed to take a moment and think of the proper response. She couldn't treat The Strings like a person that could be reasoned with The Strings was a problem, and problems had answers. The Doll just needed to find what the right answer was for this problem.
The Doll began to think about her interactions with The Strings she needed to know what would make it talk to her. The Strings wanted control. The Doll knew that much for certain, but she didn't know why it wanted that control.
Perhaps if The Doll knew why The Strings wanted to control her, she could figure out how to bait it out?
No, that would involve attempting to reason with it again, and there were far too many unknowns involved. The Doll needed to find a simple answer that didn't leave The Strings any room to hide within her. An answer that would guarantee The Strings came out now.
As The Doll stood in thought, she began to think about the words The Strings said to her when they met. The Strings adamantly claimed that The Doll and it were both the same person, a notion that The Doll knew to be false. However, despite this, The Strings continued to hold onto this belief that they were the same person.
Back in the dueling grounds when The Strings denied The Doll giving it control, it told The Doll to “love both sides of herself.” For whatever reason The Strings seemed to care for The Dolls' well-being in its twisted way.
It didn't want The Doll to be in emotional distress.
The more The Doll thought about it, the more this notion became clear. Every time The Strings had interfered in her life, it was when The Doll was in a position she didn't want to be in. The hallway, introducing herself to class, the dueling grounds—all of them were situations The Doll didn't want to be in. The Strings was always offering its hand to help, but The Doll didn't know why The Strings would do this.
It could be that The Strings wanted to make itself appear to be benevolent.
Did the reason really even matter right now?
No, it didn't. The Doll just needed to put herself in enough emotional distress that The Strings would have to interfere. The Doll could think about the why if she was right about this. There would be no point in wasting time thinking about something that could be wrong. But how could The Doll force herself into a situation where she would be in emotional distress?
The Doll's gaze shifted toward a small pair of scissors lying on the bathroom counter that The Doll hadn't noticed when she was in here yesterday. These scissors were likely used for hair maintenance of some kind, which meant the blades would be undeniably sharp.
As she examined the scissors, The Doll took note of how ornate they were. Like everything Malina owned, the scissors were very light in color, likely gold, with intricate designs carved into them. Looking away from the texture of the scissors, The Doll's gaze fixated on the sharp blades that appeared to be razor-sharp.
Slowly The Doll reached her arm out towards the scissors, grabbing them by their midsection with far too shaky hands. The Doll moved the scissors towards her wrist and shifted her grip so that she could pull the sleeve of her uniform up with two fingers.
After pulling her sleeve up The Doll stood still, looking at her exposed pale wrist, hovering the light scissors over the exposed flesh. The Doll knew that she didn't want to do this; an action like this made no logical sense in most situations. There was surely another way to put herself in distress, but The Doll knew this was the fastest and easiest.
The Doll truly didn't want to do this, but that was the point. The Doll certainly felt distressed now and knew she would feel this emotion more intensely after committing the act. Slowly The Doll brought the scissors down to her exposed wrist, pointing the sharp tip of the blades down.
Her hands shook throughout the whole process until she felt the sharp point breach past her skin as a familiar warm liquid ran down her arm. The pain was immediate, but when nothing happened The Doll kept going, making a thin line along her wrist.
After finishing The Doll pulled the scissors back and examined her wrist. Along the previously perfect pale skin was now a jagged line that oozed dark liquid. The Doll felt bile rise up in her throat at the sight but also a feeling of release that The Doll didn't expect.
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Why did The Doll feel this release?
It felt as though a piece of the stress that had been building up within The Doll had been released alongside the blood that spilled from her wrist. The Doll was only doing this so she could force The Strings to face her, but perhaps if she did it one more time, she could understand why she felt this way.
The Doll brought the scissors up once again, this time with less shaking in her hand, feeling more certain about what she wanted to do. Faster this time The Doll brought the scissors down toward her wrist. However, before she could start the act again The Doll found herself unable to move as darkness appeared all around her, engulfing her surroundings.
A familiar weight pressed against The Dolls back and pale arms that looked identical to her own wrapped around her shoulders, holding her tight. The Strings spoke, “I should never do that again.” Its tone was low and soft, as if mimicking how The Doll spoke to Malina earlier.
The Doll opened her mouth, shocked to find she could speak. “It was the quickest way to get you to meet with me.” The Doll chose to ignore the feeling of release she got instead of choosing to focus on what was important.
Pulling The Doll in tighter The Strings said, "That's never the right answer.” Hearing these words made The Doll feel the slightest bit of anger prick up. It wasn't as if she wanted to resort to that; it was The Strings fault for not replying. What gave it the right to chastise her?
The Doll attempted to clench her teeth despite her restricted movement and said, “What was the right answer then? Should I have stood in front of the mirror and begged you to come?" The Dolls tone did little to hide the disdain she held for The Strings.
Whimpering filled the void as The Strings began to cry, "I'll come next time I ask; just don't do that again.” Its crying was far from the sobbing The Doll had heard The Strings do yesterday but it still seemed just as genuine.
That was twice now The Strings had spilled tears over The Doll.
Why did The Strings keep crying over The Doll? It was supposed to be a parasite, a creature that wanted to control The Doll. “Why?” The Doll found herself asking The Strings.
The Strings tightened its hold on The Doll and responded as if it knew what The Doll was asking without the need for clarification. “Because I can't love myself.” It still cried those same soft tears as it said this. As if it actually meant that.
The Doll felt her frustration grow more when she said this. Why did The Strings continue to talk like it and The Doll were one and the same? “Stop doing that.” The Doll suddenly proclaimed in a voice louder than intended. “Stop pretending that you're me or that you care about me and tell me what you really are.” The Dolls kept her tone purposefully sharp as if she wanted The Strings to dislike her or wanted a reason to dislike it.
In response The Strings tightened its grip and wept louder, “I already told myself what I am.” The Strings said its voice was somehow clear in The Dolls mind despite its intensified crying that now bordered on sobbing.
This only made The Doll grow more frustrated from The Strings spewing the same thing. The Doll wanted to scream at it, to yell at it, to prove that it wasn't her. But that's not what The Doll came here for; that's not why The Doll decided to meet The Strings. The Doll needed to calm down and ask The Strings about that power it offered her.
Taking a deep breath to calm herself The Doll shifted the topic of conversation. “If you are me, like you claim to be, then why can't I use that power you offered me yesterday?" The Doll felt sick even entertaining the notion that The Strings could be her but kept going. “Why would you deny yourself your own power?” The Doll hoped. The Strings wouldn't notice this clear attempt at goading for information.
The Strings quietly said, “I already told myself that I need to love both sides of me.” The Strings still effortlessly spoke through its tears.
The Doll only felt her suppressed frustration grow with this declaration. What The Strings said made no sense. The Doll couldn't love herself. How could she ever hope to love herself? She was a failed noble who couldn't even use magic anymore forced to reduce herself to speaking with a parasite for a shred of power.
The Doll was a failure.
Suppressing her frustration once again The Doll said, “What power are you even offering if I learn to love myself?" The Doll needed all the information she could get. Frustration would merely get in the way of this goal.
Its weeping subsides slightly. The Strings said, “The power that I was meant to have.” The vagueness of this answer was not lost on The Doll.
The Doll thought for a moment about what power The Strings could be referring to. It seemed obvious that The Strings must be talking about her lineage magic, but if that was the case, why would The Strings not simply say that?
With an involuntary sigh, The Doll asked for clarification, “And the power that I was meant to have is what exactly?” Despite herself The Doll noticed a twinge of frustration creep up into her voice.
Why was The Doll allowing her emotions to show at a time like this?
It was so unlike The Doll.
The Doll felt The Strings arms around her flinch slightly, a noticeable movement considering how stiff the creature typically was. “I can't tell myself that.” The Strings sounded almost hurt as it made this declaration.
With this The Doll felt her frustration finally boil over the edge The Doll wanted to tell herself it was because The Strings was hiding information from her. But The Doll knew that wasn't true; it was the hurt in The Strings voice when it made that declaration. Hearing this creature that claimed to be The Doll that spoke in her voice and wore her face speak as if it cared about her. The notion of it made The Doll far angrier than it should.
How could something that knew everything about The Doll care about The Doll? The notion was one that she found ridiculous. Not even The Doll's own Father could care for The Doll knowing everything about her, yet this creature seemed to.
The Strings had to be mocking her.
The only explanation of any logic The Doll could come up with was that The Strings had no logic. The Strings was a creature that took pleasure in upsetting The Doll not some parasite that wanted to control her.
Letting her rightful frustrations out on this malicious creature The Doll said, “If you can't tell me anything, then you're useless to me.” The Doll with great effort, moved the hand that still held the scissors in it slowly.
The Strings tightened its grip on The Doll burying its face into her back. "No, I shouldn't say that about myself.” Its voice sounded even more hurt than it had previously.
The Doll brought the scissors up even further, attempting to reach behind her, shocked at her ability to move so much in The Strings domain. “Stop mocking me. Stop pretending to be somebody like me.” As The Doll spoke, she noticed how strained her voice sounded from the effort it took to move the scissors towards The Strings.
Seeming to not notice The Doll’s movement The Strings only continued to tighten its grip as it said, “Stop it. I should love myself. I wish I could love myself. Stop it.” The Strings hurt voice morphed into one that sounded almost desprate the more it spoke.
As The Doll continued to bring the scissors up, she felt pressure upon them reaching the shoulder of The Strings. “JUST LEAVE ME ALONE!” The Doll shouted, finally driving the scissors into The Strings shoulder with great difficulty.
Immediately after stabbing The Strings the comforting darkness that surrounded The Doll was gone, and she was left standing before the bathroom mirror as if no time had passed. Looking into her reflection, she saw no sign of The Strings in the mirror.
Yet when she looked at the wrist that once held a jagged cut, in its place was a wound that had been stitched closed.
Stitched closed by dark strings.