She had always loved dolls, from the day her mother had given her her first toy when she was only four years old. It was a doll almost as big as her, with long dark hair and a smile constantly etched on her face. She was the first thing – or rather person as she thought herself – she had loved, so she had decided to call her Sarang. She used to wander around the house with Sarang all the time, holding her in her arms, talking, laughing and playing with her from the moment she woke up to the moment she fell asleep. Life as a child was great for her, even as she started going to school and the other children did not want to play with her and only talked to her to call her weird. Who cares when your true friend waits for you to come back home? She did not. Her love for dolls grew bigger as she herself got older. She got a new one each year for her birthday and took great care of them. They were her treasure, her family. From Sarang, her first doll, to Maggie, the doll she had gotten from her father when she was six and Chunhwa, the doll who could talk – she always asked to be hugged. Only dolls were able to know how she felt. Only dolls were there for her when she felt down. Only dolls listened to her without asking questions or calling her a creep. Her own parents had stopped talking to her when she was a teenager; they thought she was not like the other kids and wanted her to see a psychologist. But she would not go so they just rented a room for her in a big city far enough from home so she would not be able to visit them often. They even decided to pay for the room so that they were sure money would not be an obstacle to their plan. So she went to Seoul and started living alone. Coming from the countryside, she should have had a hard time adjusting to her new life. But she had not. In fact, she was so used to living alone and to people not noticing her that she almost instantly felt at ease in the streets of this new city. People were always busy and had no time to look at others, everyone was a stranger in a crowd full of strangers and she liked it. Plus, she had all she needed: a roof above her head, food, and her parents made sure she had enough money to live - they did not want her dead after all. And she had her dolls, whom she considered as her family. She was happy living like that. In fact, in her little room in a big city, she felt at home for the first time in a long time.

 

Then, she found him on a cold winter night. She was walking home from the convenience store where she worked a few evenings a week. She had soon realized after some time living in Seoul that the money her parents sent her would not be enough to live decently and she did not want to beg them to give her more; it was hard enough to know they did not want to see her, at least she would show them she was fully able to take care of herself. So she had soon started working after school to earn extra money. Her parents had finally stopped sending her money when she was 16, and on a particularly hard day, she had tried to contact them. She did not want to beg but she needed money to pay her rent. However, she could never hear her parents’ voices for they had moved out in another village without telling anybody their new address. That day, she felt like an orphan for the first time. It was difficult knowing your parents did not want you near them, it was worse when you realized they had totally erased you from their life. For a few days, she had wanted to die. She had stopped eating, drinking, even getting up from her bed. But then, on the third day after she had discovered the truth, she had come to the conclusion that her death would only make her parents happy, or at least relieved. So she had gotten up from her bed, showered, eaten the last piece of bread she had and finally headed out to find a new job. And she had found one. Now, she was 22 years old – she had finished high school a couple of years ago – and she still needed money to live. That is why she had four different jobs. She alternated between being a maid, a waitress at a café opened all night long, a dishwasher at a seafood restaurant and a clerk at the convenience store near her room. That is where she was coming from when she found him. The most beautiful doll she had seen in her life – a male one. He was lying on the street, his face lightened by the lamppost. She came closer to the doll and could not help the gasp that left her lips when she realized that he seemed hurt. The doll was full of dirt – and was this thick liquid blood? – and his skin seemed to be broken on some parts. Even in his state, she could tell the doll was beautiful. His skin looked like porcelain and she was surprised to feel its warmth under her hand when she carefully touched the doll’s cheek. She wasted no time and carefully lifted the quite heavy body off the ground – hours of lifting boxes for one of her previous jobs had made her strong despite what her small build implied – and carried it to her room. When she arrived home, she slowly laid the doll on her bed before entering the bathroom to get a damp cloth. She then carefully washed the doll before getting changed herself and going to sleep. The next morning had her waking up to an unusual sound, like a painful sigh. She rubbed at her eyes and took a look at her bed where the doll was still lying, exactly like when she had gotten to sleep. His eyes were now open. It did not scare her – dolls were now able to do much more things than when she was a little girl. In fact, she was quite happy to see that the doll seemed to be a little better. She rose to her feet and approached the doll slowly. His eyes were confused and he started to open his mouth as if he wanted to say something. But she was faster; she put a finger on his lips and told him she was there for him.

 

From that day on, she took care of her new doll. After some thoughts, she decided to name him Cheonsa. He was like an angel to her; his skin regained its original beauty as she was taking care of it – white, warm and smooth to the touch, his hair was black and soft, and he was only a little taller than her so she could easily hug him if she wanted. His face was also like an angel’s should be according to her: pale skin, big round eyes – as her mother had always told her, “Angels have big eyes for they need to see everywhere” – topped with thick brows, plump lips shaped like a heart. Even the way he came into her life felt like destiny. She found him when she needed him the most, when she was starting to feel useless once again and she needed something to distract her. She had long ago stopped trying to make friends as everyone seemed to think she was strange and no one wanted to befriend her. But she had her dolls and now she had Cheonsa. As days passed by, she realized Cheonsa was getting better and better. As she was trying to feed him some noodles one day – dolls these days sure seemed like human beings – he looked at her and was about to say something but she cut him off, telling him to be careful because the food was hot. “You might burn your tongue Cheonsa” she said with a smile.

“…Soo” came the whispered reply. She looked at him startled – he had after all never talked to her before – and asked him to repeat his words. “My name is Kyungsoo” the doll told her with a small, unused voice.

“That’s a beautiful name!” she exclaimed and smiled at him once again before feeding him more noodles.

From that day on, she was even happier than before. Kyungsoo was no longer hurt and she enjoyed talking to him, feeding him, or just laying on her bed next to him and listening to the way he breathed calmly, his eyes closed. But even the best things come to an end. One morning, when she came back from work, exhausted and her only wish being to go to sleep, she saw that someone had tried to break the window of her room. Fortunately for her, the glass was not easily breakable so no big damage had been done. She should have been afraid; what if someone wanted to come to rob the few things she had, or even worse to her. But she was not scared. In fact, she was rather angry. She knew who the culprit was. A look at Kyungsoo’s face had told her all she needed to know. His eyes were less confused, but there was a hint of something new in them. Something she knew very well but had never seen in his eyes before. Fear. From that day on, she made sure to lock the door and the window every time she went out, but she also started to handcuff Kyungsoo to the bedpost each time, just to make sure he would not try to do something stupid. She soon realized it was not enough. A few days after the incident, she saw her landlord as she was going grocery shopping. He asked her if she had gotten a cat or another animal. Confused, she denied; of course she did not have an animal, she knew very well she wasn’t allowed to. The landlord then explained that he had heard strange noises coming from her room when he had passed it one morning. “I must have forgotten to turn the radio off” she said after a moment. “Sorry, I’ll make sure to do it from now on” she then added with a small, polite smile. The landlord nodded before going back to his apartment. He was convinced the noises he had heard that day were not from the radio, but he had a soft spot for this young girl. He knew her story – what kind of parent sends their child away all alone when the poor soul is only 12 years old – and he had always tried to look after her. So he acted like nothing had happened. But she knew she had to be more careful. Kyungsoo had now to be not only handcuffed, but also gagged with one of her scarves. She did not like doing things like that but she had no choice. “You know I can’t let you make any noise when I’m not here” she told the doll, looking at him apologetically as she tied the scarf around his head. “Please be a nice doll” she then pleaded. His eyes were glassy but he slowly nodded his head. She smiled, ruffled his hair affectionately and got up to leave the room.

 

Things were better for a little while but it did not last long. Kyungsoo was a nice doll and she loved him a lot but she knew he was afraid of her. She could not stand it. The way his eyes were filled with fear whenever she came close to him. Of course he still tried to act the same; she still could feed him, talk to him, and even hug him, but she felt the way his body trembled slightly whenever she touched him. And she knew she would not be able to stand it eternally. She finally lost it a few weeks later. The day had started great; she had come to work five minutes earlier and her boss had told her she would be able to leave early for once. Plus, she had gotten a big tip from a client. So she came home feeling happy and eager to see her Kyungsoo. But she knew something was wrong from the moment she laid a foot in her room. Kyungsoo was not on her bed. In fact, she could see the scarf on the ground beside it. Then she heard it, the sound of something knocking against glass. She ran to the bathroom and found him there. Kyungsoo was holding a pan in his hand, savagely hitting the window with it. He turned around when he heard her footsteps, fear clearly written on his face. Before she realized what she was doing, she strolled across the room and put a hand in his hair. Then, she pulled harshly at it. The doll cried in pain – do dolls feel pain?, she asked herself. She then forcefully brought him back to her room and threw him on the bed. She attached both his arms to the bedpost and put the scarf back in his mouth. Kyungsoo did not resist. He just lay there, whimpering softly. “You know you gave me no other choice” she told him sadly. Then, she left the room. She needed some fresh air or she might do something she would regret later. She slowly walked around the city, thinking about Kyungsoo, about her, about them. She knew her doll was not happy – if dolls could feel emotions, but she was sure they did – but she did not want to let him go. I don’t want to lose him, she thought selfishly. I don’t want anyone else to talk to him, to laugh with him, to hug him, to be with him, to have him. She calmed down with each step and after half an hour, she came to a decision. There was only one thing she could do. She walked back home, stopping by the convenience store on her way. She opened the door slowly upon her arrival and entered the room on her tiptoes. She did not want to scare her beloved doll after all. Kyungsoo looked her way instantly. The sight broke her heart. His eyes were even bigger than usual, and redder. Much redder. His cheeks seemed damp and his body was shaking. “I won’t do any harm to you” she whispered, trying to make her voice sound as soothing as possible. It seemed to work as the doll straightened his back a little and tried to speak. She took off her shoes in an instant and got to the bed to remove the scarf in the doll’s mouth.

He then asked in a small, hopeful voice: “You’re not mad at me?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry I got angry earlier. I know it’s hard for you here. You’re alone for hours and you must be bored.” She showed him the bag she had placed at her feet. “I got you something to eat. Aren’t you hungry?” The doll nodded his head eagerly. “I knew you would be,” she exclaimed with a big smile on her face. “I just need to get the chopsticks,” she added and went to one corner of the room to get them. She got the plate out of the bag, placed the bag down, making sure the boxes it contained would not come out, and then opened the plate. The smell of chicken curry invaded the room. “You love chicken, don’t you?” she said with a knowing smile. Once again, the doll nodded his head. She started to feed him before stopping. “Wait!” She put the plate aside and removed the cuffs around his wrists. “Here,” she then said, giving him the chopsticks. “I’m sure you prefer eating yourself.” He looked at her puzzled, but took them anyway and went on eating. Not long after, he started to look dazed. “Are you not feeling well?” she asked him, voice full of concern. He did not answer but closed his eyes, before opening them again slowly. It was as if he had a hard time keeping his eyes open. She took the plate from his hands, putting it carelessly on the floor before she gently led his head on the bed, whispering comforting words. He soon drifted into unconsciousness. She his head for a moment, then got up from the bed and pressed a pillow on his head. The plate of food lay forgotten on the floor next to a couple of empty pill boxes.

 

They came to her a few days later, as she was at the convenience store for her late night shift. They politely asked her to follow them and brought her inside a foreign building and to an empty room where only a table and two chairs could be seen. She sat on one of the chairs for a long moment before a man entered the room. He sat in front of her and put some papers on the table. “Miss Kim, I have some questions to ask you,” he started, not even caring to introduce himself. “Do you know this person?” he then asked her, showing a picture.

She instantly recognized him. The big eyes, the heart-shaped smile. “Yes. It’s Kyungsoo” she said. My doll, she added in her mind. 

The man seemed confused, as if he wanted her to say she did not know who the person was. “And do you recognize him here?” he asked, showing her a second picture.

She looked at it intently. In this picture, Kyungsoo seemed… strange. His skin was much whiter than usual, and his eyes… His eyes were fully open, little red streaks apparent in the white of his eyes. He looks like a dead person.

“That’s because he is dead, Miss Kim,” the man exclaimed and she realized she had talked out loud. “And do you know where we found him?” he added, even though he was sure they both knew the answer already. She mumbled incoherent words. “Huh?”

She cleared , then said: “In my room.”

Once again, the man looked puzzled. “Exactly,” he said nonetheless. “How do you explain that we found a dead body in your room?” he asked rather vehemently.

“He’s my doll,” she answered.

The man realized two things at that moment: first, she was talking as if this young man, Kyungsoo, was still alive. Secondly, she had to be crazy to say things like that. He took his phone out of his pocket and sent a quick message before diverting his attention back to the woman sitting in front of him.

“Your doll?” he asked nonchalantly. She only nodded her head. “I assume you like dolls,” the man went on, as if he was having a nice chat with a friend rather than talking about dead people with a crazy woman.

She seemed to light up at the mention of dolls. “Oh yes! I love them!” she said, nodding her head eagerly at the same time. 

“When did you… get… Kyungsoo?” the man then asked, rather uncomfortable.

“Oh…” she seemed to think about it for a few seconds, then exclaimed: “I found him a few months ago.”

He looked at his papers, then inquired: “Seven months?”

It was her turn to look puzzled. “How do you know this?”

He took a deep breath. “Miss Kim, seven months ago, a young man went missing. One of his friends had last seen him as he was being beaten by some drunk guys on a street and when he came back from the police station nearby, the boy wasn’t there anymore. Do you know his name?”

“How would I know it?” she deadpanned.

“His name was Do Kyungsoo”, the man said. As she was keeping a blank face, he exploded: “This is Do Kyungsoo!”, throwing a new picture at her face.

She looked at the picture, her blank gaze slowly turning into one of total confusion. “H-How is that possible?” The young man on the picture was his Kyungsoo. “You’re lying!” she spat, full of anger.

“You are the lying one!” he retorted. “How can you say he was a doll? Are you blind?” She tried to get up but the man was faster and blocked her on the chair. “Listen to me carefully,” he said, grabbing her face to look in her eyes. “Your so-called doll had a family and friends who loved him. He had a life he cherished and you took it all away from him.”

She tried to back down. “I-I didn…”

“Yes you did!” he went on. “Look at what you did!” he exclaimed, taking pictures of the crime scene to show them to her. “Look!”

And she did. She looked at pictures of his dead body, too white and that surely felt cold to the touch. She looked at pictures of his wrists, the skin bloated, red and damaged from the handcuffs. She looked at pictures of his eyes, which were always so beautiful and now looked empty. Dead. The word echoed in her head, until she had no choice but to believe it. He was dead. She started to cry, tears running down her cheeks freely.

“Do you understand now?” the man asked her, his voice somewhat less harsh.

She said no word, but she cried even harder. Then she started muttering some incoherent words. She said the same words until doctors came to take her to a psychiatric hospital. When she had left, the man got out of the room, taking a cigarette out of his pocket. He needed it. He was about to reach the back door when one of his colleagues stopped him.

“What was she muttering?” he asked curiously.

The police officer sighed before answering: “I only wanted to set him free.”

 

A/N: Thank you for reading my story. I usually rather write cheesy romance stories but I wanted to try something different. I hope you liked it. =)