“Oh mother dearest. Did you really think you could get away with what you did to me? Treating me like your little puppet” I put emphasis on the last word. Tears were no running down her cheek, this made me chuckle once more. “You cry now, when I'm in control. But I will be nice where you would be mean. I will allow you to cry when I could not” I mused, continuing my work. “You loved to pull at my strings as if you were a puppet master. Was that why you named me Antoinette? Because it sounds so much like marionette?” Yes of course it was, why else would she call me such a name, then control me all of my life. I hear her try to say something, but she had to wait, her time to speak was not yet here.
This was a nice change from her always talking, for both her and myself. When ever I tried to talk to others, she would cut me off and put words into my mouth. Oh how I hated that! Hated how I could never speak my mind. Did she not know how frustrating it was when she did that!
For hours I continued to turn her into a puppet, so I could show her what it was like for me. The table had a few drops of blood from where the needle had pieced her skin, but she hadn't lost enough to die, this pleased me. It was getting late, and I was almost done. All that was left was to sow her mouth up. But I would let her have one last word. “I should never have made you!” She screamed at me once I had removed the tape. “I should have taken you apart, the moment you started to move on your own!” I smirked at this. She had made me 3 years ago. Hours she would spend making each part of me, from the threading blond strands of hair into my hair, to placing the glass ice blue eyes into my head so I could see, then finished me off by dressing me in a blue dress.
I clamped her lips closes with my fingers and sew them close. Of course she should have taken me apart.... But yet here I am. The puppet, becoming the puppet master.