[read the interactive version of this story]
it’s too crowded in there. when you step outside you’re confronted by a hole in the middle of your vision. your eyes bounce off of it, there’s a void. your mind tries to fill it with background noise.
next to this void, holding hands with this void, is the spouse of the witch you offended and you realize it’s her. the witch you’re no longer allowed to perceive is here before you for the first time since she’s laid this spell. at least the first time you noticed. how many times by now have your eyes bounced off of her, blissfully unaware?
looking from the void, to the spouse, all you can muster is an empty “hello”. is the witch mortified, you wonder, that she accidentally walked right into the center of your field of vision? she probably wasn’t expecting to see you here, after the spell that destroyed you. you had hoped to mend yourself more for the next time she saw you. impress her, even. but progress is incremental. and to keep making progress the next step is to go out in the world, meet the witches, dolls, moths, angels that could give you relief. help mend this huge crack in your heart. there’s only so much a half-doll can do on its own.
like a good doll, you stare at your toes and hold the door open for the void and its spouse. they hesitate and you peek up. the spouse stares, like you’re some ghost. the void you can only imagine. it probably looks beautiful. resplendent. you are so small and miserable. why did you come. your friend is inside, in the crowd. why did you leave them. you can’t be alone. but now the void and its spouse have gone inside so if you want to find your friend you’ll have to follow them back in.
you collect yourself outside for a few moments, giving them time to find a place to loom, and then venture back into the party.