The Doll's House

32

The sharp pain had subsided, to be replaced by a dull ache. Ruby lay on the bed, cradling her defiled shoulder, wishing the whole thing would just go away. After he had finished tattooing her, he had seemed quite emotional. Tears hugged the corners of his eyes as he leant forwards and kissed her gently on the head. He left soon after, as if not trusting his composure to hold.

Ruby’s despair was total, her mood black – those early hopes that she might bargain with him, bribe him, were now in tatters. She had cried and cried, the pain of her recent tattoo amplified by her feelings of hopelessness. She realized now that she was his toy. She was his plaything in this doll’s house where everything that looked real was fake.

She had examined every inch of her surroundings now. There was little else to do in the long hours alone and she had spent the time hunting for anything that could be used as a weapon, should the need arise. Though she tried to deny it, she had seen the intense emotion that gripped him when he looked at her, had felt his eyes crawl over her body. If he did force himself on her, how would she fight him off?

There was a kettle on the rickety sideboard, but that was made of plastic and would be cumbersome to wield. There were other strange additions to the room – framed pictures on the walls, a calendar from 2013 and hooks on the walls on which to hang a hat or coat – but nothing of any use. She had tried to rip the hooks off the wall, but they were sealed in concrete and impossible to budge. Why were they there in the first place? It wasn’t as if anyone was going to visit. So why? Why go to such trouble to create a picture-perfect room that was just for show? Ruby buried her face in the sheets, trying to stem a rising wave of nausea.

Try and stay calm. Don’t give in. Ruby forced herself to think of happier things once more. She had only been here a couple of days, but already her anxiety about going mad in this hole was real. Total despair would lead to insanity, Ruby felt sure of that, so she once more turned her thoughts to her family. It was Sunday – what would they be doing? The washing-up from Sunday lunch would have eventually been done by Conor and Cassie – begrudgingly, as always – and Mum and Dad would have taken Max out for a walk -

It hit Ruby like a train, suddenly and without mercy. Her mum. It was her mum’s birthday in two days’ time. She would miss her mum’s birthday…

What would she go through this year? Ruby could picture the stifling mood of anxiety and distress, the total absence of presents or cards, the paralysing awfulness of a birthday spent missing a daughter who wasn’t there to give her a birthday hug. The horror of it took Ruby’s breath away. This was real. This was happening. She had been ripped from the heart of a family who loved her far more than she deserved and would probably never see them again.

Swallowing down her tears, Ruby tried to conjure up their familiar faces again. To relive those moments of family happiness that already seemed a lifetime ago. It was desperate stuff – her family existing only in these pointless imaginings – but this was her lot now. Retreating inside her memory, Ruby felt empty but oddly comforted. This would be her cocoon now.