Artistic Reality And Dolls

Sohee's cheek turns to crimson and her mouth blurts out something. She is saying something with her eyes shut. She's saying something embarrassing. Then her face of denial, shaking about as she swallows her lips.

Her eyes glance at me.

And lock on me.

She blinks faster than normal and looks around.. Her white palm waving up and down my eyes as she wryly smiles.

She tilts her head and makes eyes of concern. She tries again, showing me off her tempting palm. She tugs my sleeve. Tug and tug until she gets up and studies my face in panic.

Her shoulder trembling.

Her arm in pain.

She put a hand over my shoulder.

She thinks something is wrong.

Something is wrong.

Her mouth moves again, calling, trying to get me back. Sun-Bae, the lips and tongue move with. Sun-Bae.

And something inside my head wiggled.

A memory of someone.

Who gets his eyes pluck out.

And another who murders his wife.

His daughter. Daughters.

Many memories find themselves inside me.

*-*-*-

It works, it works! A perfection! Oh let me tell you about it, from the very beginning.

I'm an artist--well, I call myself one and others have a different opinion about me. But who cares about other's opinions, right? This artistic tingling started when I was seventeen years old, right when I saw a woman with a pretty face without legs. She pulls wheelchairs around yet more graceful than other women with high heels.

I came into her life and stayed for a few years--let me tell you, it's a lot more easy to capture someone without legs, haha. When I was twenty three years old I decided and proposed to her. She accepted with a smile and tears.

We have a daughters. We had them.

Then I say, "I want a twin."

She accepted it with a smile.

We have a twin--but they were boys.

"Let's do it until we have a twin," I say gently.

She nodded, now without a smile or tear. Maybe she didn't eat enough that day. I almost went mad, all she has to do is to give me a female twin. I did everything else, makes money, cooks, and take care of her.

I loved her and that's enough to suppress my anger.

Few years later, she did it. She gave birth to two daughters at the same time.

I was overjoyed and hugged the wheelchair women with all my might.

But she has a different life than me so I decide to leave her.

"Will I see them again?" she says as her teary eyes glance at the two daughters in my arms.

I nod, "it's your child, too. No matter you go, these two will always look for you."

And just like that I left.

This is the half of my artistic plan. Now I have to grow my twin with affection. I named them Liva and Dea. I want them to group up to be a good person so every night I would choose a bedtime story on Google, mainly focusing on helping other.

"Dad," Liva says underneath her blanket, "why do we have to help others?"

"That my sweetheart, is to repay what the world has done to you."

Dea sits up, "what have they done to us?"

I touch her forehead, "they let you have life. And legs."

I almost scared to release them when they at the age to go to school. But giving children education is within the law and I don't want to have the police attention. But there's an alternative way for them. School is just too far away from me, anything can happen to my daughters if not within my sight. So I hired a tutor--a smart one--a praised one.

He has a name but the kids love to call him fishysmart, so I stuck with that.

Liva and Dea liked him at the point I heard they were whispering about him in the bathroom.

"I want to marry fishysmart when I grow up," Liva says.

Dea hiccupped, "no, don't."

"Why?"

"Because we will left dad by himself."

"Haaah? We? You can stay with dad."

"No, I want to marry him, too!"

My blood boils. That man almost ruined my whole life plan--my artistic plan. So I had to do what other dads would do. I called him and told him to fuck off.

The next day, the girls are studying without a proper tutor. I am enough for them.

"Where is fishysmart, dad?"

"He married and decided to live with his wife forever,"

Liva and Dea cried that night and I let them squeeze out all of their sadness. It's only fair. They were strong enough.

I went to my room and decided it's time to move on with my plan.

I sit on my bed and take a lot of breaths. I need a lot of oxygen to store.

I imagined their mother, tears and smile. I wonder what she's doing now. She's a little crazy, that maybe have got her into a hospital ward. Or maybe she had hung herself.

The next day, Liva and Dea cry beside my bed. I felt my head dizzy…It was fine. It was morning, and I always started my day with headaches anyway.

"Dad, are--are you okay?" Liva touched me with full of hope. Her hand is warmer than a stove.

"Of course he's not okay! Let's call the ambulance!"

It was a bumpy road for them but finally got the right number for the emergency call.

"How can I help you?"

"Help! Our dad's's legs got stolen by the goblins!"

"I'm sorry but…can you get me your guardian?"

"Our dad is cold! He's colder than an ice cream."

The man behind the call chuckles, "Look, maybe your parents told you about this. Only call this number if something so…so important happened okay?"

The phone hanged up.

Liva cried, 'why don't they help us!"

"I don't know!"

"Let's help dad, let's carry him together!"

"To where!"

"To anywhere, to anyone! To anything that can save him!"

They didn't know anything but they at least did what I had taught them. Be good.

In the mirror I saw two twin with legs, using their tiny shoulder, carrying a legless man brushing out dark blood on the wooden floor.

It works--my artistic plan. True art costs the artist's life.

And this is what the world needs…

The door bangs open…and the good eyes of fishysmart are here.

It was the last thing I saw.

Am I an artist, gods?

*-*-*-

Fuck??????Shit. How did I get here?

Something wiggles. Inside me.

What happened. plEAse fucKing

remembeRRRRRRrrrrrrr

Oh, I jump off the building.

Oh, gods gave me a group of girls for me to watch how they live and die. Not just 'watch' but guide. Because I'm perfect.

Perfect.

completed.

Where am I? What am I doing?

Oh, I jump off the building.

Oh, the negative girls are for me to teach, how to live and die.

An apple pie appears.

Brown lips emereged on it body.

It says a pun I don't quite what is it saying, I don't understand an apple pie like anyone else does. But one line catch me.

And my stomach cries LOL.

HAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA, a pal die!

Lmao.

What time is it? Who am I?

Oh, I'm Sunbae. But not Sunbae. I am no one.

What do I want the most? What keeps me alive? What makes me walk?

Oh. Please, just kill me now. Let me die. Let me be with death.

"Hello, there."

I watch a white naked woman twisting her hips. She appears like a spring, inhuman. I don't think she has a bone. And I don't think she's even a 'she' but a 'it.' She's a goddam monster.

But how can I think that a she early?

Oh now I see it...

She's smiling.

That's only we can do...

Maybe she's not too different than me. But then again, who is me?

"Don't be scared," the she it says.

I want to reply but it appears my mouth is nowhere to be find. I have no mouth.

So instead I reply her with my mind

I'm not, you're a monster.

"I'm not," she says. I'm glad she can read my mind. We can have sexy conversation like this. She continues closing to me and say, "I'm just like you."

But your body tells me otherwise, I tell her.

Chuckles.

"It's your vision that has a trouble.'

She flicks a finger. And then my vision puts the blurry picture together. My vision and taste return, but not me.

I stare at a white dressed woman with long white hair. Smiling like she's in the middle of sunflower. But there's no sunflower here but a blank space.

"You seem lonely."

"Do you want a friend?"

The woman flicks her finger again and, from thin air forms a girl, sitting down like a puppet. She is naked.

"Hm," the woman frowns, "you don't like her. Why?"

The puppet girl falls on the ground.

The puppet girl is not like us.

"Maybe she doesn't have this 'us?'" she shrugs, she chuckles, she gaggles, cries, snorts. She did everything and say, "if you can call anything inside there 'human.'"

"Other than you and her and me."

She flicks.

The puppet girl is alive!

The puppet girl uses her legs to hold her body up, showing me everything--parts of her body that I like…but what are those? The two soft balls with a cherry on top. I don't know what it's called. Or the peachy fissure between her legs. I like it. But what is it?

The puppet girl heaves in air and

She screammmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

The woman flicks.

The girl explodes, sprawling wet red everywhere. What is it? This red water? I know there's a word for it. A sad true word. I forgot.

There is no more scream. I like screaming.

"You must be confused."

Put me back in. I want to die.

"Don't worry, I will get you back in there."

She comes closer to me and pecks my cheek with her soft lips. I like lips. I am here. But not entirely.

"I just have to see you again.

"I miss your touch."

The woman kneels down. Take my hands and start to eat my nails. She gulps down the sharp material made by flesh.

She flicks. But this time it was not her finger. She flicks (breaks) my fingers.

And from the blank ground, emerge eight girls. I know five of them. One has a green eyes that I very much want to steal. Can I pluck it out? I can donate it to sad little child who lost their eyes or parents. I can be good.

"Before you go down there, I have to give you a gift."

She takes out a scissor.

And put it in between my fingers, which are now all right. I guess she didn't try to break it. She tries to heal it. My fingers are evil. She had also cleaned the blood stuck under my nail, concealing it inside her stomach.

Who did I kill?

Who am I?

???

?????

??????????????

I'm so confused.

I stand up, with the scissor in my hand. Oh I know what to do.

The woman whispers, her cold breath freezes my ear. I can't hear anything. Oh, but I know what to do!

I rush forward toward the green.

And let the scissor deal with the two emeralds.

Mom, we can eat. We can eat meat!

Snap.

Pain.

Heat on my cheek.

Ah, I am real. I am human. Humans feel pain and we don't like it.

I think I'm going to cry. But maybe not. My tear well is empty. Someone had sucked all of it and left me nothing but dried feeling.

In front of me is the green eyes sister, slowly pulling her palm off from me.

"I don't know," she says, "sorry for slapping you."

My lips tremble. Not of mad. But for a question that wants to jump out. And let this world hear.