by: Gabby Manotoc

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The average heart rate of a human is seventy beats per minute.


But your heart has always been much slower. Very much slower. Fifty-six beats per minute � that�s how it�s always been, and will always be. Well, at least it should be.


You wake up to find the covers kicked off the bed. Shivering, you struggle to open your eyes as your muscles seem to be moving ten times slower because of the continuously decreasing temperature.


Rain slams against the window panes of your tiny little bedroom. You manage to crawl out of bed and walk towards the windows � the only view of the outside world in your life. Looking beyond, you see the people down below. They seem so miniature and insignificant, hardly important as individuals.


Well, that�s what you�ve been taught by the master.


Ah yes, the master. He should be coming soon.


It is always at this time of day, around noon, that he comes to visit you. Without him you would be dead, but with him life is... well you wouldn�t really know. He never told you. Nonetheless, you have slowly gotten used to everyday being nothing more than a puppet or a doll that he plays with.


That�s your life, and you�ve accepted that you can never change it.


The clock on the far wall ticks. 12:01 it says, the master is late. Strange, very strange indeed, the master is never late.


It is then that you realize that if the master doesn�t come... if he doesn�t come... what then?


You will be at a loss with how to speak, to think, to breathe, to live. Silently you pray that there will only be a few minutes delay.


An hour passes and the more frightened you become. You carefully place your hand over your chest and begin counting your heart beats. Fifty-six beats per minute. Good, that must mean that nothing is wrong.


You lose track of time. Yet every once in a while you count your heart beats, just like the master taught you; your heart rate is normal. He told you that as long as it beats normally there is no reason to panic. But then why are you getting impatient? And why is it all of a sudden very cold in the room?


Then you are consumed with a sudden desire to rush to the door and escape. If the master does not come, you will come to him. Then again, it is the outside... You have never been outside. What if it is truly the way the master says it is like � dangerous, painful, evil? Will it be worth it?


Looking around the room you notice her, the doll that the master had given you when you were little. He told you that she would always be your companion and friend, because he could be neither.


�Hi dolly...� you say in barely louder than a whisper. She does not respond, but in your world she can say anything she wants.


�Good day to you too. Such a dreary day isn�t it?� you smile as her coal eyes sparkle. Again, she says nothing.


�Oh, yes, I know that it is quite cold. But don�t worry; we�ll keep each other warm.� You reach over to her and cuddle her close. As if by magic, it feels as if there is true warmth emanating from her core.


You hold her in silence for what seems like decades, and then a thud comes from beyond the door, from beyond the only means of escape. �What do you think that was dolly? The master perhaps?�


You run towards the door, but stop yourself once your fingers come in contact with the freezing door knob. You cannot run out, you would surely die. At least in this place you had a chance of being safe... there was still hope.


But what is hope really? The master had said that hope did not exist and believing in something that you could not touch was a mere waste of time. He had never explained and you had never asked him to � you were never to speak to the master unless he asked you to.


Another thud, and this time you can feel it through the door. Someone, or something is trying to enter. You scream and with your eyes shut, run and hide beneath the bed.


Your doll is now on the floor and it faces you as you hide. Her eyes pierce into yours as you try not to make a sound. �Sssh! Dolly, you must not say anything. Now come under the bed with me, we must hide.� You beckon towards her in the lowest voice you could possibly muster. She refuses to listen and is still lying on the floor, not beneath the bed but in plain sight.


You try to grab her, but it is too late. You hear the door creak open, and you shut your eyes. Placing your hand upon your chest, you count your heart rate again. Fifty-five... fifty-six... fifty-seven...


Silence.

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