I shouldn't be thinking this. It's just a dream. That was just a dream. The gears and the bolts and the wires and then my little girl, my perfect little girl. But it was just a dream, and I can't let it get to me. I am a sane, rational woman.
A sane, rational woman who couldn't keep her daughter in line.
But what if I could? What if my dream was prophecy? What if I could get my daughter back, my precious little girl, and undo whatever damage those people had done? What if I could fix this, make my daughter understand how much I just want her to be safe and have a good life? Would that be like giving up?
That's not the question. The question is what are these things I'm seeing in my head? Gears and springs, those I can comprehend. What were the other bits? There was also blood...so much blood. But what was it being mixed with? It has to be just some weird nightmare. But what if? What if I could fix all of it?
God help me, I think I can fix this.
Can't get the gear size pinned down. I've figured out how to make the basic structure. I shouldn't know how to do this. I took an auto-shop class in college. It didn't cover clockwork anything, let alone what I'm building.
Thirty two inches. How do I know that? Because I know her pants size. Of course I do. I took her to high class stores, I made sure she had designer clothes. And this is how she repays me for making certain she would always look like she deserved the best in life. That's alright. She'll be grateful again. All I have to do is wind the band around these gears which should work for the joints.
Why do I know how to do this?
*What follows are numerous sketches of gears and bands, springs and pullies, shaping to form various limbs*
I can not believe the guy down at the industrial manufacturing plant gave me so much shit. My money spends just like anyone elses'. Better than some, in fact. Jack knows better than to skip out on his child support and alimony payments. He remembers what happened last time he tried that.
One week. He said it would take a week to get the parts pressed. I suppose he can't manufacture parts any faster than it takes to manufacture them. I wish I could be part of it. It would be like raising her all over again. I could make up for all those times I had to work when she was at home. I could make up for all those Christmas' and birthdays that never went as well as I'd wanted. Maybe I could fix that, this time around. Maybe I invited the wrong children.
I can't understand why she never liked any of the birthdays I tried to put on for her. I did it perfectly. It was exactly how it was supposed to be. But she never liked it. Well, I would fix that this time around. This time around, she would like the parties. This time around, I would be a good mother, and she would be a good daughter. She would remember things like I wanted her to, appreciate them. Stop getting dangerous ideas into her head. She doesn't understand now, of course she doesn't. She's a child. But when she gets older, she'll understand. She'll understand how dangerous being a lesbian is, how dangerous being some kind of loud, obnoxious type. Leave that for the women with more tits than brains. My Katie will be safe, and live a good, productive life and be happy. She'll be happy, and she'll be safe.
I can't remember the last time I slept. That's alright. It's no different from when she was a baby. She would cry constantly, and I would stay up trying to nurse and then I would work the next day and I lived on a steady diet of coffee and stimulants.
There should have been a period in that sentence. I'm an educated woman, I should know better than that.
The frame is built, but there's no daughter. My little Kathryn is still a baby, and I was still staying up four days straight trying to make sure she was cared for. Johnathan never did it, and anyways he was always out with the boys. My mother offered to babysit so many times.
My mother will never come near my Katie. She tried one year, and that was one time too many. I'll fix that this time around, too. I'd have thought things like talking, memory, all the brain stuff would need some kind of actual programming. But that's not what I saw in my dream. That's not what I see in these sketches. Click, click, click, pluck the bands in different orders to make different songs. Like an old self-playing piano. And I could put in whatever song I wanted, like the song where her grandmother died in a car crash five years ago. Better to feel sorrow over a grandmother you never met than meet a grandmother who would immediately start telling you how you've done nothing with your life and screaming at you the second you didn't immediately jump to do what she said.
If she'd actually hit Katie like she had me all those years, I would not have kicked her out as politely as I had. Hardly matters. That memory won't be there, and it won't matter. My Katie, my good Katie, won't be hampered by her terrible father and terrible grandmother.
Though I do need to cover the springs with connecting blood. I'd been slowly drawing my own and saving it, but would anyone really miss her if she were gone?
I need to sleep. I'm not a murderer. I just want her back so much.
I've been crying more lately. I don't even notice I'm doing it any more, not until the tears start staining my work. Why did she have to hurt me this way? I did everything for her. I'm still doing everything for her. Well, maybe this one will appreciate it. Will appreciate that I had to track down her father again.
I couldn't help but remember the night we met. Mostly because I called him and set it up that way. Meet for coffee, so normal, so boring. Strong jaw, large shoulders, such a pretty man who would surely be such a good provider. I should have known better. I should have known the second he started talking to me like I was some kind of servant. The moment he started talking like my primary purpose was to put out for him. That's alright, he gave me what I wanted. A ring, a daughter, a normal, safe, stable life.
Until he fucked it up, like he fucked up so many things. That's alright, he gave me what I wanted this time, too. Still following his dick to wherever it can get wet. Well, good thing. I was getting tired of jabbing that needle into my arm.
I'm so close. She's almost here. But things are getting weird. She's all gears and springs, but the casing. The casing can't just be plastic or rubber or metal. How would she feel it when I hugged her? I need to...what did it say in the dream? Transfer the mystical properties? I didn't understand it, but I know how to do it.
I haven't understood anything, but I'm so close to having her back.
Transfer the mystical properties. It was something similar to why the springs needed to be coated in blood. I'm just not sure where I can get that. The police have already been by asking if I'd heard from Jack lately. Told them the truth, met him for coffee, left by myself later. They don't need to know about the hotel room. They didn't smell the lye, which surprised me. I've been smelling nothing but lye since it happened.
Where can I get skin? Do I need all of it? Need to get a book on that. Can I just get pieces? If I can get pieces, this should be easy. Katie lived here for most of her life, there are pieces of her. If I need enough skin to cover the whole of her, then what? I suppose there's always mother. I've skinned rabbits and such. Can't be that different.
SHE'S MOVING! She's not saying much, and she still seems not entirely certain of herself in her own body. She's also not saying much, but I'm not sure I have all the music right. I can get it done, it's just going to take a little time.
Oh, but my little girl! I can get it right this time. I can keep her safe this time. She'll listen to me when I try to protect her. She has to. I've done so much for her, even more than I did for the first ungrateful one. This one will understand. She'll understand, and she'll love me, and I'll love her and we'll be a family again. She'll love her mother, and it will all work out.
Please, God, let her love me this time.