No one's puppet
Author note: This was a dream I had already sometime ago and after I woke up, like in the middle of the night I just had to write it down so I wouldnt forget it. I turned it into a oneshot.
You're in a dark room.
How did you get there?
It's not like you really care.
The room isn't really big, yet it seems massive.
The walls are dark wood. The ceiling is painted dark red.
The room is illuminated with only one old lamp hanging from the middle of the ceiling, still it gives the room enough light to see around.
You notice there in an old armchair in the middle of the room. Straight from the time of Late Baroque in 18th century, that too is made of dark wood.
What wood is it? Mahogany?
The cushions are matching darker red with golden old looking patterns all around them just like in the late 16th century.
You walk to the chair and sit down.
Only then do you realize there is someone sitting on the floor in the corner of the room.
Who is that person?
You get up and go closer to that person.
It's a man.
You ask him if he is okay.
He looks up at you.
His face is covered with make up. He looks like a puppet.
The puppet doesn't answer to your question, Only lets out a long sigh and goes back to looking at the floor, from time to time the wall.
You try asking again if he is okay, if he needs anything.
He only mumbles something to himself.
You drag the chair closer so you can sit down with the man.
He's sitting in the corner, hugging his legs, face now resting on his knees. Now that you look at him so close he seems like he is lost, disorientated and his eyes are empty from emotions.
You once again try asking the puppet if he is ok.
You see tears falling from his darkly make uped eyes, down the white cheeks to the black lines around his lips.
He's crying.
Why is he crying?
You beg him to tell you what's wrong. The tears just keep falling from those emotionless eyes, no sound leaving his lips.
You're lost of what to do.
The puppet begins to look more and more disorientated. You're starting to panic and then he just stops.
The tears stop falling.
The man mumbles something to himself once again.
What is he saying?
You want to know so for the last time you try asking if he needs anything.
This time the puppet answers.
His voice is smooth, not dark nor light, not deep nor high, just smooth and perfect. Even the way he says his words is smooth.
Being so engrossed by his voice you didn't hear what he actually said. You ask him to repeat his words.
Perfect excuse to hear his voice again.
”It was no use. I failed.”
What was he talking about?
What did he mean with that?
What had he done?
Where did he fail?
You ask him what he meant with it.
Long sigh and an empty look is all you get.
You feel sorry for the puppet.
Yes, you have decided he is a puppet.
Sad looking lost puppet.
You look at his clothes. Funny. Purple pants and white V lined t-shirt. Nothing special. You let out amused huff.
He looks at you.
You fall back to the chair.
His eyes. Deep brown. Deep and now full of emotions.
Hate, determination and bit of madness for sure.
Where did the lost puppet go?
You're shocked.
Just a moment ago the puppet was crying!
The puppet looks at you in the eyes and gives you a crooked smile.
You can't blink, you can't breath nor move your body. You can only look at him and his deep brown eyes.
Now he is sitting on the floor, legs crossed leaning to his hand so now he is even closer to you.
When did he have the time to do that?
You look at his eyes and notice his lips start to move. He's going to say something.
”But I no longer want to be anyones puppet.”
You're in a dark room.
How did you get there?
It's not like you really care.
The room isn't really big, yet it seems massive.
The walls are dark wood. The ceiling is painted dark red.
The room is illuminated with only one old lamp hanging from the middle of the ceiling, still it gives the room enough light to see around.
You notice there in an old armchair in the middle of the room. Straight from the time of Late Baroque in 18th century, that too is made of dark wood.
What wood is it? Mahogany?
The cushions are matching darker red with golden old looking patterns all around them just like in the late 16th century.
You walk to the chair and sit down.
Only then do you realize there is someone sitting on the floor in the corner of the room.
Who is that person?
You get up and go closer to that person.
It's a man.
You ask him if he is okay.
He looks up at you.
His face is covered with make up. He looks like a puppet.
The puppet doesn't answer to your question, Only lets out a long sigh and goes back to looking at the floor, from time to time the wall.
You try asking again if he is okay, if he needs anything.
He only mumbles something to himself.
You drag the chair closer so you can sit down with the man.
He's sitting in the corner, hugging his legs, face now resting on his knees. Now that you look at him so close he seems like he is lost, disorientated and his eyes are empty from emotions.
You once again try asking the puppet if he is ok.
You see tears falling from his darkly make uped eyes, down the white cheeks to the black lines around his lips.
He's crying.
Why is he crying?
You beg him to tell you what's wrong. The tears just keep falling from those emotionless eyes, no sound leaving his lips.
You're lost of what to do.
The puppet begins to look more and more disorientated. You're starting to panic and then he just stops.
The tears stop falling.
The man mumbles something to himself once again.
What is he saying?
You want to know so for the last time you try asking if he needs anything.
This time the puppet answers.
His voice is smooth, not dark nor light, not deep nor high, just smooth and perfect. Even the way he says his words is smooth.
Being so engrossed by his voice you didn't hear what he actually said. You ask him to repeat his words.
Perfect excuse to hear his voice again.
”It was no use. I failed.”
What was he talking about?
What did he mean with that?
What had he done?
Where did he fail?
You ask him what he meant with it.
Long sigh and an empty look is all you get.
You feel sorry for the puppet.
Yes, you have decided he is a puppet.
Sad looking lost puppet.
You look at his clothes. Funny. Purple pants and white V lined t-shirt. Nothing special. You let out amused huff.
He looks at you.
You fall back to the chair.
His eyes. Deep brown. Deep and now full of emotions.
Hate, determination and bit of madness for sure.
Where did the lost puppet go?
You're shocked.
Just a moment ago the puppet was crying!
The puppet looks at you in the eyes and gives you a crooked smile.
You can't blink, you can't breath nor move your body. You can only look at him and his deep brown eyes.
Now he is sitting on the floor, legs crossed leaning to his hand so now he is even closer to you.
When did he have the time to do that?
You look at his eyes and notice his lips start to move. He's going to say something.
”But I no longer want to be anyones puppet.”