In Sweden, Christine only had her father, mother, and a vast collection of porcelain dolls. Her mother never left the house due to certain... circumstances, and her dear father only came home to tell Christine about the Fantastiska Opera which he played at. Her father was fiercely protective of her mother, even when concerning his own daughter. Therefore, the two ladies never spoke to one another.
This left Christine with her dolls.
Christine had a name for every doll, and sought to make all her children feel more loved the Christine could ever hope to feel. She took them to the snow to teach them about France and the world beyond the miles of bleak, bitter white snow. She kept her dolls in perfect condition, making sure none of them were to break. Ever. Her dolls each carried a piece of her heart, a piece she would never be able to recover without them.
On the day of the midnight sun, she read to her dolls for hours, cherishing the precious light in order to play with them longer. Her mother was smiling down at her, dusting the shelf where they all sat. A careless mistake was made by her mother, an unforgivable mistake.
In slow motion, the blunt handle of the duster nudged the dolls arm, managing to create a small crack on the previously unblemished doll arm. A small clink resulted from this action, drawing a resounding scream from Christine's lips. She ran to the doll, shoving her own mother aside to tend to Charlotte.
nonononononononononononononoNONONONONONONONONONONONONO NO! NO! NOOOO!
Tears flowed freely from Christine's eyes, running down her cheeks and splashing onto Charlotte's injured arm. Christine slowly turned her head upwards to face her mother's tearful visage.
"Why?" Christine choked out, unable to think clearly.
YOU FAILED HER. YOU FAILED HER. YOU FAILED HER.
She could feel her mother's hand running up and down her back in a feeble attempt to comfort the young girl.
NO, IT'S ALL HER FAULT. ALL HER FAULT. ALL HER FAULT. ALL HER FAULT. Don't allow this WENCH to touch you. Christine! CHRISTINE!
"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Screamed Christine, desperately trying to quiet the echoing voices. At this, her mother pulled away, dumbfounded.
Christine, however, couldn't have cared less about her mother at the moment, instead fully focused on the doll.
"Oh Charlotte..." She had felt so ashamed; she failed her child...
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN 'SHE SHOVED YOU" Her father was home. Soon she heard the stomping of his feet, which gradually grew louder until it stopped right at the doll shelf. Then, without warning, he seized poor Charlotte and threw her at the wall.
"NO!" He threw another doll.
"KAJSA!" Then another. And Another.
"LYNNA! ROSE!" She could feel her heart shattering as the doll did.
"PLEASE!" He continued to rant and throw, but it fell unto deaf ears.
The next doll flew right at her face, knocking out 3 baby teeth and cutting her white skin. Christine feel unconscious before she even scream.
Christine groaned as she awoke, looking in the mirror to find dried blood caked all over her face, leaving a hideous brown crust going down her mouth, and rust colored lines along her cheeks.
Blood.
Christine had never seen blood before, but she hated the old, muddy color. It was then that her dormant nosebleed started up again, allowing a ruby red stream to flow down her face.
Blood...
It was beautiful, vibrant, and oh so full of life. The taste was awful, but the sight was awe-inspiring.
HIS blood...
His blood would be beautiful too, dripping down his throat...
Yes...
No! She couldn't... Christine began to search through the porcelain shards, hoping to find a doll unscathed, then she found a particularly sharp shard.
Take his life! Bathe in his blood!
"Shut up!" She said aloud, oops.
KILL HIM! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT! DO IT!
Christine grabbed the shard and stood, appeasing the voices.
YES!YES!YES!
She slowly creeped into her father's room, pausing only to shut the door behind her.
Then she broke out of the trance with a gasp, running far away into her room. Once there, she grabbed her piggy bank, her cloak, a brush, and her favorite blue dress. She had to go to where she couldn't hurt anybody. She had to go to France.