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I wrote a flash fiction inspired in the song of Melanie Martinez, Dollhouse.
The incident that ruined my life and family flashed through my mind as I closed my eyes.
"Take a picture of me, Jocas!"
I photographed my older sister. I cast a glance at my sister's picture. My heart sank with a blink, and I couldn't move. I noticed a young girl standing next to my sister. She's smiling, blood appears to be dripping from her lips, her dark eyes and rotting face, and her hands are entwined in my sister's neck.
I told my sister, but she refused to listen.
The image continues to bother me. I'm struggling to sleep.
My sister died two days later. I'm convinced it was made by the girl in the picture. She murdered my sister. Now I have to tell our older brother about it. I'm confident he'll help me. I told my brother about it, and he didn't believe me. He shoved me and told me I was insane.
My brother died two days later. I'm not sure what's going on. It must have been the girl in the picture. She killed my brother, and I must stop her!
When I told my Dad about it, he almost slap me. He told me I was insane, just like what my brother did. Another day has passed, and two days have passed. My father passed away. I can't stand it any longer! And I still believe it was the fault of the girl in the picture. I've got to get rid of her before she takes Mom or me.
"Mom, take a look at this. Believe me when I say that the girl in the picture is the one who murdered them!"
I'm sobbing, pleading with Mom to believe me.
"All right, if I see it, I'll believe you; if I don't, you must stop your ridiculousness."
We take a look at the image.
"Mom, take a closer look."
And my eyes nearly popped out. My heart stops beating as the girl in the picture moves closer to us. With her bloody fiendish, victorious face, her hands vanished from the picture.
And, much to my surprise, she's strangling my mother. I'm at a loss for what to do. I'm at a loss. I just keep crying as I take my mother away from that monster.
"Jo..cas.. Please stop..."
And with those words from my mother, I stopped. I let my mother go. It's like a tangled mess of memories colliding. I burst into tears. I still can't believe it.
"No.. no." I'm sobbing.
I didn't do it. I didn't murder them. I didn't want to kill my family. But I awoke in reality.
Yes, it was me, not the girl. I kill them because they don't believe me. Because I see things that nobody else see.