Trapped

Gayathri Achar posted under Flash Fiction QuinTale-33 on 2021-09-21



‘Whoosh.’ The wind howled and Lucy could feel a shiver run down her spine as it blew fiercely. Lucy, who had decided to explore the woods behind her house, now found herself lost. Suddenly, she felt something wet on her head. She looked up and was greeted by a drop of water on her face. Within a few minutes, it started to rain. Lucy looked up and saw some light in a tree. She could make out a treehouse amongst the branches. A rope ladder emerged from the branches as if beckoning her to take shelter in the treehouse. Lucy caught hold of the ladder and started climbing up. She could feel the wind picking up, and the rain intensifying. She gripped the ladder firmly and tried to climb as fast as she could. As soon as she reached the entrance, she stepped inside and was surprised to find the treehouse empty. The door suddenly closed behind her and it became quiet. Lucy was surprised by the sudden change of atmosphere. From outside, the treehouse had looked as if it were nothing but a few pieces of wood stuck together. But inside, it was a neat little room. There was a table with cups and plates spread out as if somebody was having a tea party. “Hello?” said Lucy, as she cautiously looked around to see if anyone was there. She suddenly noticed a few china dolls sitting on the chairs spread around the table. “Weird,” she thought. “I didn’t notice them before.” “Probably a little girl’s treehouse,” she thought, trying to comfort herself, though she felt shaken up by then. Lucy stayed glued to her spot, unsure of whether to stay in or go back outside. “Lucy,” said a voice in a high-pitched, sing-song tone. Lucy was sure that it was not a part of her imagination. She saw the door to her left and dashed towards it. As she was about to open the door, she felt a cold hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry Lucy, but you’re not going anywhere,” said the same voice, after which it let out a shrill laugh. Lucy turned back and stared in horror at one of the dolls, which was clinging onto her back. “Get off me,” she screamed. The other dolls, which were sitting on the chairs, slowly walked towards Lucy and stood around her in a circle. “Lucy,” all of them said together, in the same sing-song tone. “Let me go,” she screamed. One of the dolls tilted its head to the side and gave Lucy an intense stare. Suddenly, Lucy felt the treehouse becoming bigger. The dolls around her also seemed to be growing in size. The doll that had tilted its head said, “You are victim number 13.” “What?” Lucy said. Her voice felt different. She looked down and gasped in horror as she saw her hands, legs, all made of china. She would be trapped as a doll…forever.   Penmancy gets a small share of every purchase you make through these links, and every little helps us continue bringing you the reads you love!