But Gav didn’t want any of those dolls. They were plastic. They weren’t real.
Gav’s father didn’t let him play with dolls. After Gav’s mother’s death, his father brought him to his knees and told him he’d now take his mother’s duties.
Gav’s father hit him and touched him. Gav’s father took his virginity when he was nine because he had the right to before anyone else. He made him, so he got to own every part of him.
Gav’s father was depraved.
Gav became insane.
He didn’t know it, though. Gav is like Antoine Roquentin from Nausea. Antoine didn’t know he had an existential crisis, and Gav didn’t know he was insane.
Criminally. Psychologically.
Gav hid his favourite doll under his pillow and kept looking at it while his father fucked him, pushing his head against the pillow to muffle the sound so no one in the house could hear.
The doll had long blonde hair and bright blue eyes.
The doll smiled at him every night his father came for him.
The doll kept him sane.
The doll made him feel safe.
He became her Doll Master because that was the only thing in his life he had control over.
Gav’s father fucked him until he was eighteen. Every night. No exceptions. He told Gav he loved him and he couldn’t live without him, as he bled him. He told Gav he was his one and only as he whipped his back.
Gav just looked at his doll. Even when he grew older. Even when everyone at school called him a nerd, and the most popular girl told him to watch it when he tripped into her.
Gav promised to ruin that girl’s life.
Then Gav’s father died in an accident. Gav was no longer tormented, but he cried that night. He cut himself to feel the blood his father used to extract out of him.
He cried when no one hit him and fucked him.
Gav masturbated with his doll, but he wasn’t satisfied anymore.
So Gav decided to find a replacement for his father. He married an abusive woman who spoke like his father did and raped him in the same way.
Gav got his father back. He got his balance back.
And every night, when his wife was asleep, Gav stared at that doll. He’d smile and tell her, “Your master is here, so you can sleep, Doll.”
She didn’t listen to him sometimes, so he placed her between his legs and punished her.
Gav had a daughter, but she wasn’t a doll. She was just an extension of him. He didn’t love her like he loved his doll.
His daughter was a reminder of his cruel wife, too. She looked so much like her, and every time he saw her, he wanted to push her away so that his wife would only beat him.
Gav knew he had to act normal. He was good at acting normal. No one suspected him — not even in his father’s mansion. His wife didn’t suspect him either.
Gav was a good boy.
He raised his daughter to be a good girl. He knew when to cry and how. Gav practised smiles and tears every day. He practised people, too.
He watched them and knew how to get to them — how to make them like him. The more people liked him in parties, the harder his wife raped him. So Gav made himself more likeable until his wife nearly killed him with her beatings.
Gav smiled when he fell asleep hugging his doll.