The laboriously handcrafted beauty was an ideal replica of Shae; short brown hair, freckles, green eyes. Soft as the pin cushion she had based the doll on, the idol sat on Em's bedside table. Em chuckled softly as she created a shrine around the doll; strands of hair, fingernail clippings and a piece of clothing. The tough part had been getting hold of these items. Em had snuck into the back window of Shae's house one day when nobody was home. The rest had been as easy as a clean sweep of dust bunnies.
Em sat on the bed with her black sewing kit, its red velvet lining opened like a mouth hungering for redemption. Needles engorged in the pillow-soft tongue were formed into the shape of a heart; perfect for her evil intentions.
Em carefully placed the doll in her left hand and pulled the first needle out of the kit with her right hand. Reminiscence of their times together brought tears to her eyes as she raised her trembling hand over her head. Here's to the memories, she cried. Then she began chanting:
Memories, dimories, schlemories galore! Curse this woman down to the floor!
Em took each needle and stabbed it into the black Sharpie-drawn heart on the effigy. All reality puffed away as Em furiously retaliated. Sympathetic pain invaded Em's soul before she fell to her death. Shae removed the dagger and left the witch drowning in a pool of blood. Yes, revenge is sweet.
submitted at 6:42pm
30 January 2011
Laurie Kolp's web: