The World Inside My Head

It was created from hatred, and misery. It thrives from distress, and suffering. This thing has no soul, or shred of humanity. Torture and pain make it grow, until it consumes the life force of its victim. Throbs and pangs of its body parts cause con-vulsions and discomfort to its sufferer, until they die or become incapacitated. Noth-ing good can come from its hands, which are stained with innocent’s blood. Only when eyes clouded with hate are cleared will the nightmare end. Kindness is its weakness, and with it the cure will be lifted.

The voodoo doll knew nothing, but distress and torture from its master. Day in and day out mistress Holly would create more and more dolls, and give them away to people who had a vengeful streak in their hearts. Some days the voodoo doll would wonder what life held besides pain and hatred. Other days, it would be fine with watching its master craft evil, and watching people suffer.

The day the girl with the short, bright red bob of hair came to the store, was the day the voodoo doll’s fate changed. It began to see life in a completely different way. This girl did not come seeking a doll of destruction and pure turmoil. No, in-stead she came seeking help. Its master’s eyes widened at her request. Her friend was being tortured by one of her dolls. This should have tugged at its master’s heart, but she shrugged it off, like one might a coat on a hot day, and said it wasn’t her problem. The girl’s chin began to quiver and she clenched her teeth. The voodoo doll didn’t recognize the emotion, but it was interested. What would happen?

The girl’s hands hung limply by her body and she shouted in a firm voice, “How can you do nothing? You created that, that abomination! You have to help me! My friend is hurt-ing every day. How can you turn your back on this?”

Its mistress let out a cruel laugh, “My dear you do not understand. Once those dolls are out of my hands there is nothing I can do. You are on your own. There is no cure.”

At this the girl let out a shrill cry. “How dare you? You are responsible for the pain they cause. You must know a cure!”

The master shook her head, “I can’t. Why don’t you take one of my voodoo dolls though. You can inflict pain on your friend’s enemy.”

She reached for the voodoo doll, handed it to the girl and nodded. The girl merely made a sputtering noise though. “What? You give me this infernal thing? You have to know a solution!”

“I don’t,” its mistress said and pushed the girl out of the store. The girl stood outside of the establishment then, baffled. She let out a sigh and looked down at the voodoo doll.

“Perhaps I can find a cure,” she muttered.

Once in the safety of the girl’s room, the voodoo doll was put on a nearby desk. It sat there, watching its new master’s interactions with the world. She would pick up her phone, look at it, smash her fingers on its keyboard and put it down. The same process repeated itself for several hours. The voodoo doll knew nothing of her world or her tribulations, yet there was a part of it that wanted to know. Something fascinated it about the girl. She was a curious specimen to observe. She was jovial in a quiet, reserved way. The voodoo doll wondered if this girl could really lift its curse of being only diabolical and evil. It wanted to hope, but knew little of the emotion.

The girl saw her friend slowly debilitate, as more days passed. Who owned the evil voodoo doll, and what could be done to fix the situation? She had so many ques-tions, and no answers for them. The witch who had created the voodoo doll, had been no help. She was evil incarnate, just like the dolls she crafted. Perhaps the girl was being pessimistic, but how could she see the dolls as anything but evil? They were killing her friend slowly, but surely. Her friend would show up to school with new bruises and scars. It was sickening, and her heart wrenched at the sight of her friend in such a pitiful state. All the girl knew was if she didn't do something soon, the doll’s master would surely kill her friend. The question was why? What had Lainey ever done to the doll’s master? It made no sense. Lainey was kind, shy, and could never hurt a fly. There had to be a logical reason, and the girl would find out what it was.

The day the girl found her friend’s torturer, was the day all of the puzzle piec-es clicked in. The voodoo doll’s master was Earl, the boy Lainey had politely turned down after he had basically asked for a one night stand. It all made sense now. How could she have been so blind? Boys like Earl were never satisfied with the answer no. They would try to get whatever it was they wanted, no matter the consequences. The only reason the girl figured out it was Earl was because the dummy had the doll out, and was sticking pins into its skull. At that moment, the girl’s friend let out a groan and clutched her head. That was when it became blatantly clear that Earl was the culprit.

The girl went up to Earl and demanded he stop hurting her friend, and that he was acting petty for a rejection. Earl snickered, “Yeah right. I paid good money for this doll, and I’m going to make your friend pay for turning me down.”

This created an unpleasant reaction from the girl. She yelled at Earl, refusing to back down, after she had come so far. “You. Will. Throw. That. Doll. Away,” she said anger seeping from her words.

“What if I don’t?” Earl asked, cocky as always.

The girl did something reckless then, she grabbed the doll and ran away. Her footsteps resounded throughout the cafeteria, and her heart beat loudly in her ear drums. She was terrified. Was this the day she would be beaten up? Luckily for the girl, Earl hadn’t followed her. She let out a deep sigh, and for the moment thought she wouldn't have to pay repercussions. However, nothing in this world comes with-out a price.

The girl’s friend got better in the next week. Her scars and bruises went away, as if they were never there in the first place. The girl afraid of the voodoo doll put it away in a locked box. There was the matter of the other doll though. The doll the witch had given her. What would she do with it?

What happened next could only be described as something out of a fairy tale. Some how the girl began to grow fond of the voodoo doll and would take it everywhere with her. She would bring it in her purse for good luck. It was funny, be-cause the voodoo doll was not used to being seen as a lucky charm. Slowly by slowly the voodoo doll began to love the girl as well. It didn’t happen overnight of course, more over the course of several months. A true act of kindness would break the voo-doo doll’s curse, but while the girl was very kind to it, there was not any one act that was defined as true kindness. The voodoo doll had given up on hope a while ago, so when the true act happened, it took the doll by shock.

The girl was being harassed, a couple of bullies were making fun of her oddly colored hair, and making fun of the way she dressed. The girl took the insults, refus-ing to be pushed into a fight. Not fighting though, made it that much worse. The bul-lies snatched her purse and dug the voodoo doll out. They made fun of her even more, saying she was a witch, because why would she carry such a doll otherwise? The leader was about to break one of the voodoo doll’s limbs, when the girl screamed. Something had snapped and she was pissed. She told the leader to give the doll back. The leader snickered and refused to give it back. This infuriated the girl even more. She reared her fist back and slammed it into the side of the leader’s face. He let out a loud scream, dropping the doll, as if it were on fire. The leader snarled at the girl, but the girl was in her own world. She grabbed the doll and clutched it to her chest.

The leader said, “You’ll pay.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, afraid of the answer.

The leader growled, “You stole Earl’s only source of amusement.”

So they were with Earl? That was just great the girl thought. The girl wasn’t afraid at this point though. She was merely angry. She glared at the bullies and was ready to fight for her life. In deciding that, she had just fulfilled a true act of kindness. The voodoo doll began to glow and she heard an eerie voice emit from it, saying to put it down. The girl obeyed and the voodoo doll grew in size. Its wrinkled, leather skin opened, and the bullies stared at it, dumbfounded. The doll shed its skin, and out stepped a black being. It shouted in a loud, commanding voice. It told the bullies to leave the girl alone. The impact it had on the bullies was great. They shuddered and ran away. The girl gazed at what the voodoo doll had become. She asked why had it helped her. The being told her it was because she had always been kind to it, even when the entire world had been against it. She smiled and understanding crossed her features. She told the being that she had been taught by her parents to treat all creatures with kindness. The be-ing answered her, saying her parents were very wise.

The girl grinned telling the being her name. It was Misa. The being liked her name and it said just that. She thanked the being and the two of them walked to-wards her house. The girl asked how would the being stay with her now that it was so large. The being chuckled, went back into the shaded skin and resumed its original form.

The girl’s eyes widened, “I didn’t know you could do that.”

This caused the doll to laugh, “Misa, you should know by now that anything is possible.”

Misa giggled, “You are right. I just witnessed the unthinkable. My friends will never believe me!”

The doll looked at her seriously then, “You can’t tell anyone about what has happened.”

“Why?” She questioned.

“Why because then the magic will be gone. Promise me you won’t tell.”

She nodded and from that point on the voodoo doll was no longer a tool used for harboring evil. Instead it helped Misa, its master, and used its powers for good. Nothing could change the doll back to what it had been. The blood that used to cover its hands was cleansed, the hatred morphed into kindness, and the fear turned to con-fidence.

Misa even took the other voodoo doll out of the locked box, and began to talk to it. The voodoo doll answered her almost immediately. It wept when Misa told it of the pain it had caused her friend.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your friend. I was created for evil, and no one has ever bothered to get to know me, or help our kind.”

Misa nodded, “It’s okay. I understand.”

The corners of the voodoo doll’s mouth quirked upwards, and it almost had a smile on its face. The girl understood why it was so hard for it to smile, it had known only hatred.

“From now on, you two will be my friends. You will not be used for evil anymore. I will help you two become good.”

“Thank you master,” both of the dolls said.

Misa crinkled her nose, “Call me Misa, please.”

“Yes mistress Misa,” both of them said.

Misa laughed, “Close enough.”

“I think I’ll name you two,” the girl said.

This caused astonishment in the dolls. No one had ever thought of naming them, or giving them something so personal. It was a strange phenomenon.

Misa pointed to the doll, who had been locked in the box. “You will be named Geoffrey.”

To the doll who had helped her, she said, “As for you, your name will be Richie.”

Both of the dolls smiled, and they were genuine smiles. The dolls were learning.

Before Richie knew what was happening, it fell in love irrevocably with Misa, and they became a couple. How? Well, that’s another story completely.