DOLL's✔

1...

Emily sat down on the flat parted grass. dressed daintily in a blue dress, a silky white bow holding up her long brown hair. Her maid, Malyia, watched her close from behind.

They went beyond the Erford Mansion and stuck themselves in the woods not far—not too close, to the bustling lakes filled with fish and vibrant greens alike, of Mount Augustus.

"Miss, you shall not go that far," Malyia hated to stop her from doing whatever she pleased, at her age though, the tender age of 14, how could it be so? She had to reign her in before she got too wild.

"Malyia," Emily said. She wandered closer to the big oak tree that she had sat next to for many years, it had grown old and weary. "Why do things grow old?"

Malyia's tense shoulders sunk back down in relief. "Miss, that is a question I am not capable of answering." she shook her head and with a calm expression brushed back Emily's tangled hair.

Emily frowned slightly, she had forgotten that her maid never forgone any lessons in Etiquette and Reading, Reciting the bible by heart was all her maid knew. "Very well then," Emily concluded her questioning by picking little daisies up from the ground; the brilliant glowing yellow colors begged her to show her father.

"Do you think my father would like this?" Emily turned towards Malyia with an almost anticipating look; Malyia though, hesitated.

"I'm sorry young miss, Master is entertaining the Brookley's this afternoon," Malyia petted her head to show comfort.

"Oh."

EMILY

I have to say I'm ashamed. I may be the only girl in the house, but I don't get the attention and love others speak of. a girl of my status should have.

Father's always entertaining guests—instead of me. Always looking out for others—while I can barely get the man to drop his loaded workplace. Never sparing me a glance ever since I killed my Mother—Amelia. A poor woman who had such a bastard as i. At least, that's what my father says. That I'm a bastard.

Ruthless she-devil.

Hell bent on taking the one thing that keeps him running circles around the estate; I took her.

I place the lifeless yellow flowers back onto the grass.

Emily...

The voice stirs something in me. Troubled, i turn towards Malyia with concern,

"Why are you whispering, take the shenanigans somewhere," Malyia bowed instantly responding, "Nothin' of it Miss. i would never talk, unless spoken too, especially by Miss."

Emily...

I squinted my eyes that looked dead-on at the beaming sun. "High time we go back in the house, Misses," Malyia advised. I sent her a quick nod, my skin crawling like ah thousand bugs made their way up my spine.

We gathered little to nothing and headed back inside, the Butler, Butler Ahn, had accompanied me through childhood—he had been both my hated and loved associate.

He takes the valuables from Malyia and sends them off with another servant.

"...Master is done entertaining," Malyia twisted her head to look at Butler Ahn,

I looked over at him.

Butler Ahn coughed, "He may be available to be seen."

Honest to goodness, I'd like to see Father. Truly and wholly. But I know the man, he doesn't have that kinda time for me. I smile at Butler ahn and tell him I would meet him in the dining hall, it wouldn't make any difference.

He smiled and bowed, excusing himself from my quarters.

"Really," Malyia huffed and walked around my tight corridors, "How could that Butler Ahn suggest you see Master? Is he nuts?" She stops to open my wayward cloth cabinet and take out my set of dinner clothes, propping herself below me. I subconsciously lifted my arms up—as it has been a practice since the day I first was changed by a servant.

"Malyia, hush," I silence her instantly. Silence took hold of the room; it's everything.

"Well," Malyia sighed. "Where done youn' Miss" She patted her sides.

I nodded to her. This is usually when Malyia leaves for her corridors. Remindin' me that i am forever,

Alon'.

The dinner with my father was lonesome. Really, and truly, lonesome. The silent clinking of our forks and knives were the only things talking in the dining hall. Someday's, I eat with Malyia just because she's more conversational.

I've been told not too. Just cause' i'm using her language. Or at least, pickin' it up. I said 'um' once to him and he had me kneeling in the foyer for an hour. I try to talk, honest to God I do, but every word I want to utter immediately dissipates under his crushing pressure; to just disappear.

"Father," the utensils stop moving.

"Hm." phew.

"It was a lovely day out," I played with the meat, even though I was told nobles need to take every meal seriously. "You shoulda'-you should've been there. Playing with me."

The man and i didn't say anything else for the entire meal. I excused myself quietly. He never looked at me, but stood up and left.

The quick and fleeting pang in my heart was one I was used to. I used to get that feeling when my father ignored me. Reminded me of my faults.

that I, Emily Erford, am a bastard. A no-good karma.

I leave through the doors and mumble goodnight to the passing servants, heading to my corridors.

Emily...

I look up and around my room...Emily...

I do nothing but hide underneath my covers, praying to God that the devils voice goes away, whateva the voice may be.

Emily...

Emily...

Emily...