The Puppet Master

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"Walk the tipe rope," the Puppet Master cooed. Obediantly, I sat up and began walking. It wast not me walking though,it was the Puppet Master controlling me in its play, for without him what am I? What is the Puppet with its' Puppet Master? Wood.

I climed the latter, each step taking me to another level, another step, closer to obeying. The puppet must alway obey, but
what if it didn't want to? Easy. It kept quiet.

The tipe rope lay infront of me now. Just as the Puppet Master commanded, I step forward. It's not so bad, I've learned
to live with things I don't want to do. But then, as always, the most simple question, that can ruin me, comes to mind, "What if?" Heartstopping.

What if, while controlling me, something were to happen to the Puppet Master? It's the most selfisn and unselfish thought. You may deeply care for the Puppet Master, but no matter how much, or little, you do care for them, you can't help but wonder what would become of you if something were to happen to the Master. The thought frightens me.

Another, is that if something were to happen, you wouldn't really know what it was. They may say that they got hit by a car, or had a heart attack, or even committed suicide, but no one really know what caused the death, what caused your strings to be cut. You could only know if you were them, and I really hope you aren't or wont ever be that person.

So the Puppet Master will continue to controll me as a Puppet Master is supposidly meant to do. I walk the fine line, more dangerous without its net, wanting to break free, impossible. Though it may be, I can't help but eye the scissors.





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