Rebecca Howards sat cleaning the upstairs bathroom as her drunk father chortled down in the living room watching television, she stood finally finished. Unfortunately as she stood to leave she missed a small puddle of water that had accumulated on the floor as she was cleaning. She slipped. A loud crash was heard throughout the house as her body hit the cleaning supplies covering her as she screamed because it burnt her skin turning it bright red. Her father stormed up the stairs. "Becca, you little bitch! What did you do now!?" He crashed through the door bottle in hand and she scrambled back huddling against the back wall. " What the fuck is this", He growled, "Can't you do a damn THING without fucking it up!" Becca shook as he advanced on her scared for what would come next. Her father roared as he threw the bottle and crashed it over her head. He started to beat her.
After he was finished he proceeded to urinate on her battered and trembling body and left. She coughed as the ammonia in the urine mixed with the bleach on her skin and the floor and burning her throat. She scrambled up and out of the room and down the stairs coughing, her father sat on the couch smoking and looked up as she stumbled into the room "The fuck do you think you're doing?" he asked angrily as he stood. She coughed and gasped as he pushed her down, and in his drunken state didn't realize the fact that she was flammable as the cigarette in his mouth tumbled down and on to her setting her skin ablaze. He stumbled back as she screamed a scream that could be heard for miles, he panicked and tried to put her out. "Help!" he yelled. Rebecca idly wondered why he was so concerned now, as her consciousness slipped away.
When Becca woke again she couldn't see and silently wondered if she was dead. She twitched as she heard shuffling next to her and a muffled voice spoke to her through the bandages " Ah Rebecca Howards, you're finally up. I hope you're not in any pain we had to remove glass shards, your father told us about your little fall, poor little thing. We'll remove the bandages as soon as your father gets here later, exiting yes? The chemicals didn't affect your skin too harshly in the fire…However, there is a large chance that the scarring will not go away and pixilation of the skin has been…removed." He Stated calmly yet Hesitantly.
Later that day her father came into the hospital finally and spoke with the doctors for a short while before agreeing that it was time to remove the bandages after months of them being on while she was in a coma. As they slowly unwrapped more and more of her vision cleared and she could see the horrified and disgusted look on her fathers face and the uneasy one on her doctors. She had a confused look on her face before one of the nurses handed her a small mirror. She looked blankly at it, her face was grey… sickley with white in spots and black char marks. Luckily her eyes weren't damaged in the fire and were left an odd hazel with an eerie gold in the middle and red brown fading to a bright green almost glowing as she stared at her face, unmoving. The nurse slid the item from her hand as the conversations around the room buzzed through her ears.
Becca woke with a start as her father slapped her. "Get the fuck out of my car!" She tumbled out of the seat and staggered up to her room on weak legs. Her father slammed the door to his fell asleep as sweet 16 year old Rebecca Howards watched her sanity slip away. Becca stood in front of the bathroom mirror mumbling to herself. "Too much. Too much…white. It's too. Pure." She ripped apart her fathers razor cutting her fingers pulling the blade out, and looked in the mirror cutting her mouth out into a perfect smile for an inch before going and cutting downwards so it looked like a puppet or a dolls mouth. She giggled as she sliced her skin open all over her body in small patches, different shapes sometimes little designs, giggles turning to cackles louder and louder waking up her father. He stomped up the stairs and stopped as he saw her. "What the fuck is wrong with you!" he yelled as she slowly turned towards him not making a sound he grabbed her wrist and tugged her out to the car "Jesus it's not worth it, all I want is the fucking money from taking care of you, you little shit!" he half yelled half mumbled in his sleep deprived state, driving her back to the hospital he had taken her from earlier that day. As they arrived the doctors started running and as they put her in a room attempted to drug her to numb the pain but she refused and watched as they stitched up her skin leaving a patchwork design dancing around her body giggling quietly. "I believe not only is it the medication for her burns but probably because of the traumatic experience she went through, sometimes patients have relived the experience mentally or have recreated it to the best of their ability, thus the reason she cut herself causing a kind of burning sensation.." She stopped listening as the doctor droned on… "liar" she mumbled.
After another week in the hospital and physical therapy she was sent home. Her father sent her to school again even though she was supposed to stay home recovering. People stared as the normally quiet yet happy girl walked about in a black sweater covering most of her face except for her mouth and black skinny jeans. Mumble sand whispers of " What the hell happened to her" or " I never knew she was such a freak" or "I knew she was a psycho" floated past her as she glided from class to class. She didn't even make a sound as someone pushed her into a wall "What happened freak? Finally snap?" the queen b of the school Samantha Tori asked nasally giggling with her posse. Becca stood from the floor. "What's wrong. Cat got your tongue ,you mute?" Becca turned slowly smiling giddily at the blond teen. "hehehe. You'd make a good doll….Poppet. " she giggled in a slightly crazed way, her voice no longer the same sweet voice everyone had grown used to hearing, but slightly rough and raspy . Samantha just looked at her disgustedly and walked away with a "Whatever, freak!" When she returned home she went straight to her room picking out her new favorite outfit which she actually had shoplifted from a Hot Topic she had gone to when she went to her grandmas before she had passed away on a dare. She put on black and white knee high socks, one horizontally, striped the other vertically, a tutu with a black top while the under layer was purple, and shorts leading up to a long sleeved black shirt with an oval collar and a purple waist coat and black leather gloves, before rolling up the sleeves on her shirt and putting her long black hair in pigtails and smiled at her reflection, "perfect, it's perfect. Don't you know that? Don't you? No. No. No. Shut up it's perfect!" she whispered hurriedly to herself as she put make up on so she had black lips while the rest of her make up was doll like making her large eyes stand out from her ash like complexion.
She quietly put on some black steel toed boots and walked silent, a kind of silent you learn from years of having to be quiet to survive… she grabbed rope from the hall closet and a knife from her fathers hunting room before quietly drifting to her fathers room. Standing over his bedside watching him sleep she sat on the bedside smiling gently as she whispered "a good little puppet, poppet, puppet. Yes, yes, yes. Good." before she rose and slid the knife quickly across his throat. She grabbed his wrists roughly, dragging him up the stairs and to the bathroom shower slowly before posing him in an almost comical yet somehow typical "showering" pose the soap in one hand and cut his shirt open before carefully cutting straight down the middle of his abdomen humming quietly to a song she had heard from a movie once "come little children, I'll take thee away…into a land of enchantment.." she giggled "how is my garden of shadows daddy.. isn't it pretty?" she asked his corpse while tugging his heart out and looking at it and laughing hysterically "Never knew you actually had one of these!" she set it in the sink before turning and dipping her fingers into the now empty cavity in her fathers stomach and started writting on the wall, when she finished she stepped back and admired her work licking her fingers clean. It was a poem that read
' DaDdY iS bAd,
DaDdY iS mAd,
CaUsInG a RuCkUs,
BeInG a BaD PUPPET,
aNd ThE SiGhT DiSgUsTeD mE,
iT DiD nOt MaKe Me HaPpY,
NONONO iT mAdE mE qUiTe SnApPy,
It MaDe Me WaNt To TeAr My EyE fRoM iTs SoCkEt,
So I FIXED hIm,
BeCaUsE iM tHe PATCHWORK POPPET
~ PP'
Over the next week the police found five students, Samantha Tori, Casey Windberge, Noah Parkinson, Jason Kindel, Jessica Smith, and their families, along with Mr. David Howards dead in different poses with their intestines ripped out, hearts missing and poems written in their blood each signed by this supposed Patchwork Poppet. Rebecca Howards was pronounced missing later that day.