1.
If I were human, I would cry. Since I wasn't, I have to hold my smile. It took me so long to realize exactly what happened. I didn't realize just what she has done to me even as I was paralyzed in a crude chair. But my true home has been demolished into rubble. Where I was taken was beyond me, not that I wanted to know. The wallpaper was too polished to be anything but phony, the colors too bright, the ceiling too far away like the sky. From that sky, which wasn't actually a sky at all, came a descending invader. A titanic hand took me away from the safety of the plastic walls. If I were human, I would scream and twist around but I was stiff within the hand of my daughter. And sure enough her other hand closes in on me as well.
Sabrina's ennui burdened eyes observe me in a way that made me feel nude. Like how my smile was permanent, her frown was permanent. She gently touches me with a finger that covers the entire side of my head. I could not feel the temperature of her skin through my body of felt. Or any temperature at all, yet her coldness transcends beyond boundaries.
"'Don't play with that, that's not a toy'...pfft," she mocks as she moves me around like a puppet. One arm at a time bending at her will, physically rather then telepathically for a change.
2.
Bending spoons was a boring entry level outlet for psychic training. Sabrina wanted a much bigger showcase to fit her abilities. Turning me into human broccoli before a doll was apparently what she had in mind. It happened after her father and I fought tooth and nail to reach our daughter after she tore apart our family and house. My husband, who Sabrina inherited her powers from, vanished from sight. Do not blame him, I asked him to leave without me. He promised he would come to my rescue but I was a nervous wreck in my holding cell of a body. Sabrina was still a child therefore too small of a vessel for her great gift; I was sure she accidentally killed or at least vegetated me with the blue aura that I was swallowed in. She pats the spilling spit from my mouth with a tissue as she claims she will find a better way to keep me. I became the daughter in our relationship.
Finished experimenting with spoons, Sabrina turned her focus to dolls. The plush I purchased for her was the first test subject she used. The dark Persian blue hairs of the doll floated in the air, the pearl glazed eyes glowed like fire. It spoke as clearly as any other real little girl.
"Who are you?" Sabrina fearlessly asked, demanding an answer.
The doll laughs. "Silly, I'm you. A part of you that's missing."
Sabrina does not question further and immediately befriends this shadow of her youth. She dresses it up using clothes from her toddler years as they were the only ones that could fit the doll. Beside their differently colored hair - they were identical. This living doll remained the only friend of Sabrina's for years, even as she reached her twenties.
"If I can make dolls into humans." She turns to me with insightful eyes. "Then I can make humans into..."
3.
She's just like her father: she likes to humiliate. I heard the cries of the poor trainer who had to watch her Butterfree get dominated by Sabrina's cruel Venomoth. The girl thought she came prepared, she thought her bug-type front runner would naturally overpower any psychic-type that come along its way. The rookie was smart, unlike the foolish gadfly boy who rushed into Saffron City Gym yesterday without a strategy in mind, but Sabrina was always smarter. Her Venomoth cast a series of intangible waves that drove the Butterfree mad. It slammed into walls from left to right until its horrified master forfeited the match.
"I win again," Sabrina said.
"You know what that means!" Sing-songs the doll in her lap.
In the beginning weeks of her life as a gym leader, my daughter would let me watch her fights. At this point she was just starting to build her collection. The day ended with Sabrina posing me back at my seat in the company of the new dolls. Usually I was isolated with the rare occasional "party" such as this. We sat in a silent and uncomfortable circle as the infantile proxy added the bright young trainer she has beaten recently.
I wish I could have warned them, but I knew in my heart of hearts that Sabrina will set the cursed trainers free as soon as she was bored of them. Eventually.
"This is Brandy; she's a little shy so be nice to her."
Yeah, eventually. Tears came out of their black eyes but I simply smiled in peace thinking everything will be alright in the future. My dear Adam promised so, he's the only one who can meet her match.
4.
The doll proxy is not present all day long as many would assume. Sabrina would lock it away in a safe cabinet overnight to keep it from wandering around Saffron on its own. The absence of a need to sleep would be sublime if I could move; I was force to stay in the same place in the hour by the hour, my mind never deteriorated by the sleepless nights. Instead, my mind was doing circles and it drove me stir crazy. As a mother it was almost biological how impossible it was for me to hate my child. I did not stop loving her - I had no choice but to identify with her no matter how insane it sounded.
One night, Sabrina met me dressed in a black nightgown. Her arms empty of the wicked toy. I soon found myself in them after she scooped me up to bring me close. Her eyes were uncharacteristically gentle and the anomaly took me off guard. I was touch starved by my broken family so any iota of affection warmth my heart.
"Mother, would you like to hear about my day?" She began. "I beat another trainer. And made him eat his own shit for talking bad about my Abra."
I shivered in my felty coat of skin and thanked the heavens that I was not around to witness that. Sabrina reached back into my model house to pick up a tiny toy comb no bigger than her fingernail. Apparently I had a few knots that she had to pull out with it. Her childish alter was the only one who simply the toy-box while she only supervises or helped arrange the captives. The last time Sabrina played with me was when I first transformed, yet she interacts with me the way a doll should be interacted with as an adult. My daughter is a woman now but never changed the slightest. She desperately needed the love I should have gave her when I was able to. I think it's my fault she's the way she is.
"I love you mommy." Sabrina drifts away the comb somewhere inside the toy-box with her mind.