Moon Wish-Doll Chapter 03
Derek saw my smile too.
He slapped me straight across the face.
“Claire Caldwell, now you’re using Mom’s tricks to scare people? What’s next–you’re going to say you can’t control your expression because you’re becoming a Moonbound Doll?”
Snickers spread across the living room. One guy
taunted, “C’mon, turn into a doll right here. What’re you waiting for? You liar!”
I shook my head stiffly. “I’m not a liar. I’m not a liar…”
I held up my injured arm so they could see the cotton exposed inside.
“Look. Only a Moonbound Doll’s body has cotton inside. I really am becoming one. I’m not lying.”
Only one of them didn’t laugh.
Only one of them held back his laughter. Lucas Vale, Derek’s Beta packmate, furrowed his brow deep in thought. “That arm of Claire’s doesn’t look like a cheap fake to me.”
His mother’s side had a trace of forest witch blood.
He seemed to catch the fading wolf scent on me.
He started to step closer for a better look, but Nora’s sobbing interrupted.
“Please don’t be mad at Claire. It’s my fault for being sick. She only put on this whole act just to hog all your attention. If it weren’t for me, she wouldn’t have glued all that fluff to her skin and pretended to be a doll. It’s all my fault.”
Her sobs devolved into harsh wheezing as she fought to catch her breath.
Derek instantly remembered her chronic breathing illness and pulled her tight to his chest.
Derek remembered her breathing condition and pulled her into his arms.
“This isn’t your fault. How could it be? Claire
Caldwell, can you ever stop? Do you get some sick joy
out of making your sister cry until she can barely draw breath?”
Then he shouted at his friends, “If you’re really my brothers, grab her. Nora doesn’t want to see that
cotton. Rip it all off.”
Panic crashed over me. I stumbled two steps
backward and tried to bolt, but my limbs felt heavy and slow.
His friends were too tall.
I hadn’t taken two steps before they caught me.
They grabbed my wounded arm and started pulling out the cotton.
It felt like they were ripping my actual flesh apart. The agony burned through every inch of me, sharp and unrelenting.
But they just laughed. “That doll arm of Claire’s looks freakishly real. You reckon she stuffed a prosthetic under her skin?”
“It’s not fake. It’s real.”
Tears streamed down my face as I tried to explain,
but the more I explained, the faster they moved.
Soon I understood. They didn’t want an explanation.
They wanted me to admit I was wrong.
“Nora, Derek–Claire knows she was wrong. Claire
isn’t a doll. Claire won’t turn into a doll. Claire won’t
My arm caved in, deflating little by little.
They stopped.
They gathered around Nora instead.
I sat on the floor and used my good arm to scoop the cotton back into my lap.
Derek told me to go back to the kitchen.
“A hundred bowls. If you’re not done, no sleep tonight.”
He and Dad took their friends out to dinner.
I went back to the kitchen and tried to stuff the cotton back into my arm.
I stuffed the cotton back far too hastily; chunks bulged out in lumps while other spots sank hollow. It
looked hideous.
I didn’t have time to fix it properly, so I just taped it
down with some packing tape.
The Moon–Wish Doll’s voice came again:
“Moonbound countdown: seven hours remaining.”
I pressed my lips together–half laughing, half crying.
I’d be a doll soon enough. Once I fully turned, surely they wouldn’t stay angry with me… right?
When I finally finished all hundred bowls, Dad and Derek came home.
They saw the table lined with oatmeal and their faces twisted.
“You actually made all this?”
I nodded timidly. “It tastes good this time. I followed every step perfectly. Dad, Derek, is my punishment over now? I’m so hungry. I didn’t dare eat even one bowl.”
I was used to hunger anyway. When they weren’t
home, meals were spotty.
Mrs. Anderson fed me when she could. The other
housekeeper, Mrs. Robinson–who was Nora’s
distant relative–made sure I didn’t eat at all. The
food she gave me was always spoiled.
Mom said spoiled food makes you sick.
So I never ate it.
Yet going without food left me constantly starving, so
I gorged whenever Mrs. Anderson was working.
“Dad, Derek. I won’t make you or Nora angry anymore. I will be good from now on.”
A flicker of softness crossed Dad’s face. He reached
out like he was going to pat my head.
I closed my eyes.
But the hand never landed.
A shrill scream echoed down from the second floor-
straight from Nora’s bedroom.