A Puppet Show

(This story ended up sounding alot more angsty than intended/imagined. But I decided to share this one, publising my stories relieve me from a sense of inertia in general haha.

-Also note, the house was suppose to represent the Maslow's Heirarchy. Understand of that what you will.

Enjoy!).

I was sewn together by an amalgamate of threads. My stuffings are made of sentience. As a whole, the consensus could view me as another marionette. But what that consensus fails to see, is as a fragment, if you look very closely, I truly couldn’t have been made by anything other than a needle. My soul is a fabricate. Your consciousness is a deception.

No matter how I look, in my entirety, and no matter how intently I have tried to disregard it, It can’t be denied.

I'm one dimensional. Simplistic. I'm a fraudulent puppeteer,

In this very own puppet body, embroidered for my very own false existence.

...That’s just the truth.

My room in this dollhouse is the safest place I know. I can construct, destroy, and create here freely. But the outer world is erratic, neurotic, and uncontrollable.

And I want to get away from the marionettes. The facade on their faces and the way they move their strings. Unpredictable, suspicious, and oppressing. I cannot integrate with marionettes, lest I take on the habit of resewing my face, like they repaint their expressions. A deceit of what they truly feel. Injustices of their judging.

They are hazardous. But maybe, we're the same in the way we are different.

So, I sewed my own friends. Just like how I was, a thread at a time. With patience, I've created many puppets. They're just like me, a soul with no depth, meaning a materialization of boredom. We’re all alike, so now no one will judge us. The perfect accompaniment.

I finish my newest puppet, and cut the thread. Dark black dots for eyes. A stretching smile, and grey skin. Just like all the other ones, this is perfect.

“Welcome to my dollhouse.” I say it every time after completion.

“Thank you.”

“...”

It replied back. I didn’t know that could happen.

“How come you can talk?” I asked it, setting it down on my bed.

My bed, and walls are all my perfect shade of grey.

“I don’t know.” Says the puppet. “Who are you?”

“I'm you, don’t you see?” I tell the puppet, lifting it up to my face and aligning it with my eyes.

“...I understand. I see so many of us too.” The puppet says, turning its cotton woven neck at its surroundings.

On the floor, on the bed, on the shelves, on the desk. Everywhere. That's all I need.

“Yes. Do you want to be on a shelf?” I ask it, shuffling off of my bed.

“...I don’t want to.” Says the puppet.

“Okay. Do you want to stay on the bed?” I ask again.

“...I don’t want to.” Says the puppet.

“Okay. How about the floor?” I say.

“...I don't want to.” Repeated the puppet.

“That’s funny. What do you want then?”

“...” Says the puppet. Then, it slips out of my grasp onto the floor, and begins to move towards the door with its small legs.

I silently begin to follow it. Its limbs are oddly quick for such a soft puppet.

There are 5 layers of my house, each layer being smaller than the last, my room being the final layer (5th and the smallest) all the way to the right, and the 1st layer all the way to the left . All connected by door to door. I set it out to be structured this way, it sounds like a linear hierarchy.

My room isn't only filled with puppets. As grey as it is, it's filled with intricate gems and art I've made, and things that are important to me. Or are they really important to me? I don’t know what I exactly value. At this point, I may as well call myself a Muppet.

I follow the puppet to the fourth layer, which holds clay statues and paintings of different things I've seen before in the outer world. Flowers, trees, depictions of interactions, I've even made some of course resembling the little thing I'm following. All mainly of a greyscale because it looks better. I don’t know why I made most of those anyway. I don't miss the outer world.

We continue on to the 3rd layer as the little thing nudges the door open. This layer, of course, is bigger than the last 2. It holds many mirrors, instead of portraits of others. This’ll do, because I've heard houses need portraits to feel like a home. However that's supposed to feel?

As the puppet scurries on to the 2nd, this place is where I keep other things I've sewn or knitted. I have seen in children's books, a few teddy bears and fuzzy looking blankets. They don't sustain the idea of comfort to me, so I made more plushes of puppets that built up dust, but that's fine.

We arrived, at last, the 1st layer. I still do not understand where it's trying to go. Maybe it's hungry because this layer is where I keep my sewing needles and snacks that I make. They're both definitely a necessity. Well maybe my snacks don’t taste so great, but still, yum.

The puppet continued to walk forward, and stopped at the gate that leads outside, out of my dollhouse.

“...Why did you lead me here?” I ask it, looking down skeptically.

“Why don’t we find more friends?” Ask the puppet, trying to push the gate open.

“What do you mean more? We have so many of us. If you want, I can make some more. Actually, I was just about to do so.” I say, just about to turn around and head back.

“No. I mean different friends. Friends from out there. Why don't we-”

“No.” I say sternly, turning around. “Marionettes cannot be trusted. This is why we live in solitude.”

“But, don’t you want to even a little bit? How long has it been since you’ve spoken to one? Oh please give it a chance!”

“You don't understand.” I say calmly. “Everything here is way better. The outer world is mischievous. If you poke your thread out, you’ll be completely unraveled before you know..That’s just what happens.” I turn around again and head away from the gate. “Now let's go, oka-”

KNOCK KNOCK.

“..It's someone outside!” The puppet jumps.

“...’ I stay silent. Rarely anyone has ever knocked upon my door. When someone had, I had only ignored it.

KNOCK KNOCK.

Again.

“-Hello? Is anyone home? Can you help me please?” Says the voice from the other side of the gate.

“They need help. Please, let's open the door and hear them out, atleast!” Squeals the puppet

“...” I stay silent.

“Look.. if anything bad happens, i'll never mention the outer world again. Okay?” It promises, staring up at me with its black beady eyes.

“...Okay then. Fine… it seems you need to understand the world anyway.” I mutter, grabbing the handle of my gate. “Go and watch from afar. Don’t speak to them.”

I don’t want to do this. I really don’t. But it must be necessary for my puppet to learn.

So I guess I will.

…You see, this gate hasn't been opened in a while.

With a sigh, I push the gate open, it isn’t very heavy.

Slowly, it creaked wider, and wider.

The radiance of sunlight poured in. It's too warm.

The smell of trees and dirt flooded my scent. I don’t like it.

And the appearance of a male marionette in front of me.

…

“Ah- well hello!” Says the marionette.

“...”

“Uh, well- I fear I've lost my way and ended up here. I'm quite tired from being on this trail haha. Can I.. come in and rest for a bit please?” The marionette then tips his hat.

His attire seemed dusty and moderately worn.

“...”

I finally speak.

“..Okay. Follow me.” I say blankly, leading him through the gate and shutting it behind him.

“Thank you! What a nice place you have!” He says. His face displayed a painted grin.

Gross.

“Okay. Anyway, sit here. I'll bring you some water.” I say, guiding him to a chair, and walking to grab a cup.

“Thanks.” He takes a seat, his gaze drifting around his surroundings. “What is that door for, down there?” He points to the door leading to the 4th layer.

“That’s just.. Another room.” I say, walking back to him and handing him his cup of water.

“I see! This place already seems so big, crazy there's more, haha!” He says, accepting the cup, then gets up and walks down towards the door.

As he was doing so, drops of water from the cup he's holding dripped onto the floor.

“Hey, you're spilling water on the grou-”

Before I could finish my sentence, he slipped on his own puddle, falling down with a thud, and glass shattering and water splattered everywhere.

“OH! OW- I'm so sorry! I'll help you clean this!” Says the marionette, grabbing the elbow he fell on and slowly moving up.

The glass bits had gotten onto some of the snacks and a bowl of water on a nearby table.

…You cannot be serious.

“...It's..okay. I will clean that up later.” I mumble, attempting to hide my frustration.

“Okay.. I deeply apologize, seriously. I can help you clean it, but first uh.. do you have a bandage?” He looks down at his injured elbow engulfed in his other hand.

“Yeah. Actually, right this way.” I guided him to the 4th layer door, the place he seemed to want to go to sooo badly, and pushed it open.

He follows me inside, his mouth slightly widening. “This place looks very comforting!”

He says, looking around and picking up one of the scarves I had knitted to feel.

“Remember to put it back where you found it!” I snapped, unintentionally.

“... Just wait here. I'll find you a bandage.”

From the corner of my eyes I see the puppet, hiding behind one of my massive plushies, observing.

I grabbed a bandage and returned to the man. He was walking around, seemingly wanting to poke things.Unpredictable and too nosy, just what I had imagined.

“Here. Wrap it around your arm.”

“Ah, thank you!” He exclaims, wrapping it hurriedly around his elbow.

“These are very impressive, did you make it yourself?” He asked.

“Yeah.” I answered, neatening some things on a shelf.

Besides the shelf was a big piece I had made, 2 giant puppet plushes, hugging eachother in an embrace. I think it's pretty fine work.

“This is really adorable!” He said, feeling the puppet's material and tugging its arm.

He spotted a little loose string on one side of them. “Is this a tag?” He asked.

Befor I could even take a look at it, he tugged it.

The puppet's began unravelling, loop by loop and the white cotton stuffing had started to pour out of them.

“Ah-! Hey what!” I exclaimed, not knowing what to do or say at that moment. Defenselessness in the face of this destruction.

The marionette tried to put the unraveling to a halt by pinching the thread, but it solved nothing.

Now the puppets were gone, a mash of thread was lying on the ground, with fluffy cotton

Sitting on top of it.

“Why would you do that!” I yelled, glaring at the marionette, who seemed to be standing in shock.

“I..I'm so sorry i didn't know that would…” He then looked down.

“All I've done so far was trouble you, haven't I? Please forgive me, I'll go sit in silence.”

“No. You're sitting somewhere else in fact. And this place is suited for someone as clumsy and ignorant as you. And you’re going to leave shortly, so rest well!” I stomped angrily and pushed the door to the 3rd layer, which had already seemed to be slightly open.. He heeded my words and quickly went in.

He walked in with silence and confusion.

“You can reflect on yourself here. And these mirrors can’t break easily either.” I glared at him one more time, and left towards the 4th layer, shutting the door behind me.

I sighed, squeezing my hands together. Then I felt something tugging below me.

The puppet, with an eternal smile plastered on its face.

“So, you see? They're just.. Unpredictable. All of that actually could've been planned too.” I mutter, crossing my arms.

“They were accidents!” Exclaims the puppet. “Why don’t you calm down for a bit here, you can start a new painting.”

I look around the room. There's still many spaces for a hung up canvas.

“Sure. Why not? I'll check up on that burden in a while then.” I walk towards a few blank canvases leaning on the bottom of a wall.

“For now, I need you to make sure he's not doing anything bad.”

“Okay!” Says the puppet, and watches him from a peep under the door.

A few minutes later, it squeezes under the door. “I'll be right back!”

“Sure.” I mumble, focused intently on my ongoing artwork.

…Okay. Time to drop the paint brush. On the canvas, I decided to repaint the puppet's who were once intertwined. This time at least they’ll be in each other's embrace eternally.

Hm. But wait a second. That puppet hasn’t been back for a while..

I get up moving towards the door, turn the doorknob and peer into the 3rd layer.

He's gone.

Where did he go? Didn’t I give specific orders for him to stay there?

I walk intently into the 2nd layer. The cotton and string of the earlier incident were all in separate piles on a shelf, the strings had already been rolled up into a yarn, and the cotton in a few spare bags.

Did the puppet do this?

I continued on to the 1st layer, and was taken aback from what I saw.

There, sweeping, was the marionette, putting the glass shards into a dustpan, and the snacks on the table were cleared.

He walked over towards a trashcan and dumped it inside.

“There we go…” He muttered, setting down utensils, then finally turned his head to see me standing.

“Ah! You’re here! I hope I made this up to you!” The marionette said, his strings attached to his limbs moving him forward towards me.

“..So you did all of this huh…” I said, crossing my arms again. “Well, good…”

“Yes, haha, again I apologize.” He scratched at his head.

“...Okay. Well, I guess I apologize too, for calling you ignorant. Even though you were.” I say, turning back towards the door of the 2nd layer.

“Well thanks anyway.” Says the marionette, standing in his place.

I walked into the 2nd layer, and looked back.

“Aren’t you following?” I asked, gesturing to him to follow.

“Ah! Okay!” He exclaims, hurrying along towards me.

We walked through the 3rd layer, and into the 4th.

“Okay, this time, do not touch anything.” I say, leading him into the middle of the room.

Shifting his wooden head from left to right, he took in the sight of everything, practically marvelling. The aroma of the essence, the sculptures, the paintings on the wall, my collection of paintbrushes.

“Are you good at painting?” I ask the marionette, picking up my paint brush again.

“Oh, not very good, but I have before!” He says, clasping his hand behind his back, as if promising to not meddle with anything.

“Look, you can paint here, but if you somehow accidentally mess with something again though, you will leave immediately, okay? Take this as my proper hospitality to you.” I handed him a spare paintbrush and a paint tray.

“I promise I won’t this time!” He receives the items.

“Okay well then, I want to see your experience.”

And that he shows me. A decent artist, in fact.

We chatted for a while, as we were creating a landscape.

It was similar to the view outside of my dollhouse. The one I rarely see, but in the portrait, as I was working on the frame of my dollhouse, right below the gate were flowers.

There, a contrast between the dull colors of the house and bright colors beneath.

The marionette drew those. I don’t remember seeing those there though, what an inaccurate depiction.

We moved on to sculpting, and I set out the clay.

The marionette trailed after me, sitting down beside me.

“What do you want to make?” I ask the marionette as I place the clay on the pottery wheel.

“Well, you choose. It's your stuff?” He says, raising an eyebrow at me.

“I asked you first.” I sigh, glaring at him.

He giggles, then places his hand on his chin.

“How about.. Something simple. Like a lantern? This room is a little dark, haha.”

“Not a bad idea, though I disagree with this room’s lighting. You get used to it when you don't indulge in sunlight.” I say, turning the pottery wheel on.

“Are you a vampire or something?” He asks, beginning to cup the clay around his hand.

“No? I'm a puppet.”

…

“Atlast, it's completed!” I say, admiring our work. This had been going on for about half an hour.

“Amazing! We just need a candle now.” The marionette cheers. “For now, I'll go wash my hands quickly.”

“Okay.”

Is a real candle necessary right now? I think I have a prop instead, I don't need an actual lantern.

I turn to the door of the 5th layer, and head inside searching for the prop.

A moment later, I hear clunking on the floor nearby.

“What are you doing?” He asks, peeping into my room.

“I'm finding a prop candle instead. I think I've crocheted one previously.”

“Okay, I'll wait here then.” He said, then turning back.

After 5 minutes or so, I found it. I truly do have many random things, for I had the eternity to learn these skills.

As I turn around, I see the marionette holding an illuminating object in his hand. Seeming to be enticed by its flame.

“Why are you holding my essence? We won't use that.” I say, eyeing the male sternly. “Put that down.”

“...” He spoke no words.

“Do you not hear me? Put that down before you create another predicament.”

“...” He spoke no words again.

“Hello?!-”

“Thank you for hosting me.” He says, finally looking up at me.

“...?” I stared at him, crossing my arms. “So you do hear me.”

“You don’t leave this place often you claim. Why don’t you?” He begins.

“What are you talking about? I'm not intereste-”

He interrupts me with a sigh.

"I don't understand. The colors of this world is umbiquitous, yet you only know of the shade grey? And your needles solely ever create one thing?" He continues, the flame in his hands swayed placidly.

"I don't know what you're on about. Now don't try and start causing another proble.."

"Why do you contrict yourself? Is it from fear? Is it really hatred?" The marrionate slowly begins to back away.

"Well then, worry! Because I'm going to burn this place down.” The marionette says sternly, holding the enlightened candle in the palm of his wooden hand. “From the outside in.”

And with a swift push on the ground, runs off, through the doors.

“Wha..What? What are you saying?!” I shout.

All that rambling and then..this? This is what happens when you trust those things!

I trailed after him, moving as fast as I could. The marionette is quick, already several feet ahead of me, pushing through door to door until finally, at the first layer, in front of the gate.

“Stop that.. right now! What are you doing?!”

The marionette doesn’t look back and instead starts pulling on the door, the candle still ignited, in hand, directed in my direction, as if to signal for me to stay back.

I stop in my tracks. Yelling at him wasn’t doing anything. I began to panic, looking around my surrounding area in hopes for something to stop him with.

Right there, on one of the counter’s, I spotted a sharp sewing needle.

As the door of the gate began to sway open, I instinctively grabbed the needle.

At that moment, I threw the needle as fast as I could, at the string which attached the marionette’s head to its body.

Finally pushing the gate open, the marionette turned its head, but ultimately couldn’t move in time. No, he couldn’t even realize what had happened.

THUD.

The body of the marionette collapsed, its head crashing on the floor, and the candle snuffed out, its wax fragmented.

The puppet, who finally caught up, witnessed the scene before us.

…

“I had to.” I finally began, walking up to the stringless marionette, looking down at its corpse. “He threatened us.. It was needed.”

“But look! Outside there!” Squealed the puppet, pointing to the now opened frame of the gate, running towards it.

“Wait a minute, don’t go out there. Why don’t you listen to me!” I huffed.

Hesitantly, though I have to, I run after the rebellious thing.

“My point has been proven already… you have to understand now!”

I stop barely an inch beyond the front of my gate, the blinding sunlight hitting my eyes, and the odor of the outdoor’s hitting me once again. I blink again, and again.

“Puppet! Return here, it’s dangerous..” I repeat in a frantic voice.

…

My eyes finally adjusted to the light, and the sight in front of me.

There in my view, similar to the view of the illustration the marionette and I were creating. The scene of flowers of different colors, odd petals I've never seen before. Embedded in the dirt, and all embracing the sun’s warmth.

There are numerous trees that have always slept in my garden, but I never took the time to look up at their leaves, which displayed an ombre of different green’s, a tiny chrysalis swaying gracefully with the rhythm of the soft wind.

And a tiny puppet, who was enlightened by this sight, standing there in pure awe.

...

I return with the puppet in the clutches of my hand, in the enclosure of my room.

“Too much has happened right now. You must be tired, no? Let me find a shelf to put you on.” I say, measuring the puppet up to one.

“Hm.. where do you want to go? If I put you too far left here I wouldn't be able to tell you apart from that puppet... but too far right here and you’ll be all alone.” I say, shifting it left to right indecisively.

“To be fair, I couldn’t tell you which I made first and last soon, anyway.”

I think I'll decide later. For now, I have an idea. Something new to make.

From the string that was previously pierced, with that needle, I want to learn how to sew a marionette.

If only he told me what he was plotting.

“I was right about everything I said, you see. Erratic, unpredictable…” I mumbled, and placed the puppet on the floor.

The puppet only looked up at me, with the same eternal smile stitched on its face.

I'm one dimensional. Simplistic. I'm a fraudulent puppeteer,

In this very own puppet body, embroidered for my very own false existence.

And maybe the layout of my dollhouse is completely wrong.

…The curtains close!