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Chapter 1


The sun rose like a blossom opening, gifting its petals unto the world. It frustrated me that my father did not show up yet. What was more infuriated was that he never gives me reasons for his absence at night. Whenever I summoned him, he lied by telling me that he was with the ghosts. As if such a thing exist! Since my mother’s death, I became lonely: nobody spent time with me anymore.

Standing in the living room, I curled my fingers around my poker straight long black hair and gazed at the clock. Since 4 August 2016 (my mother’s cremation date), it became my routine to wait for my father. Wait, wait. Sound easy right? Full nonsense, Waiting is the most monotonous thing that ever exists. I felt like a buffoon to worry for him every day, but feelings are uncontrollable right? I kept on making the round of my sofa when the door flung opened making my heart pitter-patter. He came back home!

“Where were you, this time?” I asked sharply.

“OH! Good morning, darling. With ghosts,” he said.

Angered boiled my blood like hot magma. He made fun of my uneasiness. This pressure of fury would compel me to say words that I would not mean. Remaining there for one more second would explode my nerves with rage. I gave him a black glance, turned my back, and slapped the front door in his face. There was not even a goodbye kiss. I heard my dad screaming behind me, but I was awfully vexed to respond.

After 20 minutes of walking, I reached college. I was still in a dreadful frame of mind. Out of a sudden, I overheard someone screams my name; it was a voice that I could never get tired of hearing; the tone was low with a mild version of huskiness, and with a bit of higher prestige than the thinner body would suggest. It was Troy, my boyfriend.

“Hello love” he greeted me with a tender kiss on my lips

“Hi” I simply answered.

“Is my baby girl alright?” he asked amusingly.

“NO” I grumbled back

“Let me fix this for you,” he blinked at me.

“How?” I asked

“Let’s meet tonight for a party at my place. I will make sure that you get the most unforgettable night ever,” he stated with a flirtatious smirk.

His proposal exceedingly tempted me, but before saying yes, I thought about how mad father would be if I approved Troy’s offer. For an adolescent who would turn 17 years old in just one week, never did my strict father let me attend any party at night. Even though he is an absent father, my safety had always been on his top list. I was on the verge to turn down Troy’s proposition when I got a recollection about what took place this morning; revenge is a dish best served cold.

“Sure, but I will join you only at midnight not earlier. Is that ok?” I asked

“I will come to pick you up. ,” he said joyfully.

“Fine then, see you tonight,” he left with a kiss on my forehead.

Disobeying my father was not something I would feel proud. All I wanted was to teach him a lesson so that he could understand my pain. People never know how much they can hurt someone until the same thing happens to them. Not even a pinch of guilt took over my heart. Still, in my own reflection, a hand touched my should, and a female-voiced out to me.

“Hey, bitch!”

A girl with emerald green eyes, her golden hair was thick with just the appropriate hint of curls. The authentic Barbie stood in front of me with a huge smile revealing her flawless white teeth. She was Amanda, my childhood friend. Her parents left for Amsterdam last year, she refused to leave with them, as a result, she’s living alone.

“Hey,” I said

“Were you daydreaming?” she asked

“Oh! I was just thinking about my dad’s face after discovering my insolence,” I grinned.

“What are you plotting,“? She demanded.

“To attend a party at Troy’s place,” I replied.

“Listen, Lisa, it’s not that I dislike Troy, but you dated this guy like for only a few months. You don’t even know him properly. And, who the hell starts a party at midnight?” she inquired.

“To get even with my father,” I snapped back.

“Then why don’t you come to my place instead?” suggested Amanda

“No, I will be fine with Troy. I trust him,” I maintained.

Amanda crossed her arms, ready for an argument, but the ringing of the bell became my saviour (announcing the start of classes). Taking advantage of the situation, I kissed my doll on the cheek and ran to join my class. I pushed a sign of relief. The Barbie doll could have easily turned out to be a Chucky doll.

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