Love Doll

She sat, glaring into the mirror at the beastly reflection that evokes her husband’s criticisms. The rolls of fat sitting atop her ribcage, protruding over her belt loop caused many arguments over her eating habits. Her hair was slowly balding, becoming less of the luxurious mane she was praised for in her 20’s. Wrinkles overwhelmed her face, declining its years well beyond her own. She had become a shell of her former self, and her husband was no longer interested in her.
She herself felt her appearance had become a burden. Once taking so much pride in her maintenance, it slowly fading once the depression set in. She no longer took pleasure in keeping up what her husband so proudly worshiped, arrogantly showing her off like the proud owner of a new Ferrari. Exercising seemed too tedious and plastic surgery was too expensive; there weren’t too many options available.
She was just about to give up, cash in her ticket to those pearly gates in the sky, when the discovery of her husband’s long-term infidelity finally pushed her over the edge. She wanted revenge, wanted to show him she was still that vibrant, gorgeous woman he fell in love with. Wanted to show him that underneath the mask of flab and matted hair lied the beautiful being she used to be. The Internet offered no solutions of a quick fix, just a bunch of empty lies and deceptive gimmicks. Not even the deepest part of the World Wide Web could give any alleviation to her desperation. As she inched the cursor towards the red x in the corner, a pop up revealed itself on screen.
“Do you want back the body you had in your 20’s? Missing the fire and passion in your marriage? Click here for the solution that will change your life!”
It was too good to be true. Had the man that claimed their creation finally decide to alleviate her misery? She spared no second in clicking the suspicious message. An order box appeared listing the price of the unnamed Holy Grail she’d been looking for. $120.95. How could something that promised so much be so cheap? She quickly entered her credit information, then clicked submit. Heaving a sigh of relief, she sat down her laptop and leaned back against the couch. Soon, all of the sarcastic remarks and dirty looks would soon disappear.
After waiting for weeks, the quick fix she’d been waiting for had finally arrived. She grabbed the box, sprinting to the basement, trying to conceal it from her husband’s wondering eyes. Shaking hands gripped the sides of the box, ripping it open, unable to contain the excitement that brewed inside of her. What was inside conjured more questions than answers. Sitting inside the box, were plastic, life sized doll parts.
She was flabbergasted. Was this a joke? Had she been duped out of her money? As she was just beginning to feel the blow of vulnerability, she noticed a note underneath one of the arms.
“Separate from the old, replace with the new.”
It was clear what she had to do. She locked the basement door and grabbed the electric saw.
She heaved a sigh of anticipation for the pain she was sure to endure, reluctantly resting her arm upon the table, the blade of the saw hovering above her shoulder. She tightly shut her eyes, fruitlessly preparing herself before cutting into her flesh. She screamed in horror as the muscle was torn to shreds, blood splattering across her face and clothing, the snapping of bone almost making her nauseous. The disorienting deed left her with a mouth full of gurgling blood and less energy than crashing from a sugar high. The pain was worse than childbirth; but she couldn’t quit, she’d come too far. Stumbling her way to the cabinets, she clumsily searched for a needle and thread. Staggering to a chair nearby, she grabbed the right arm from the box, balancing it under the remains of her shoulder. She weaved in the needle, connecting her tattered flesh to the plastic until it was perfectly fused to her body. Somehow, she was able to gain complete control over its mobility, clenching and reopening her fist with ease.
It was beautiful; slim and smooth, a small reminiscent of her youth. Any doubt she had in continuing drifted away; she craved more. She began cutting off more parts: left arm, right leg, left leg, replacing it all with the new synthetic ones. The screams she produced had finally reached her husband’s ears, he raced to the basement door, pounding on it like a savaged beast trying to reach its prey; she ignored him. The torso was tricky; it was to be stitched from the front and wrapped around her existing frame. She started up the saw once more, slicing away bits of flesh and muscle from her sagging build, her husband yelling for her to stop her heinous act, persistently trying to break down the door.
There was only one thing left to replace, the face. She sluggishly plucked the mask from the box and held it up to her face, it would do nicely. The saw was much too powerful for such a delicate removal; a knife would be its replacement. She dug a knife into her skin, ripping it away from the muscle, her shrieks intertwined with her husband’s pleas. She pealed the slivers of leftover skin off and began stitching the mask onto her exposed tissue. Her eyes beamed brightly from the site of her new physique. She looked as though she returned to her old self; the money was well worth the result.
Her husband, eventually successful in barging through the door, froze from the site of the monstrosity that stood in front of him. Blood trickled from the mask and stitch wounds, parts connected in a haunting manner, twisted and contorted in opposite directions. She limbed closer to her estranged husband, keeping her eyes fixed upon his horrified expression. “Do you, love me now?” Her face crackled as she began to smile, taking several deep breathes before falling to the cold, hard ground.