Power comes in all forms. There is simple, ordinary power that people have such as deciding when to wake up or what to have for breakfast. There is power one receives from a high-ranking position, such as being able to make important decisions that will influence others. There is the power to exert it onto others, to threaten their own power, and show your own. Such powers show up at least once, even daily, in a person's lifetime.

And yet she had never had any of that sort of power. When she woke up was strictly regulated and enforced, her breakfast the same everyday with not even a slight deviation in taste. She had never been in a high-ranking position, always led in the directions of all others who were above her without even a glance in her direction. Exerting power over others? Her body was not strong enough nor big enough to intimidate, her appearance and persuasion not enough to beguile, and her respectability was practically nonexistent, to the point that her name was never said by anyone, always 'Girl', 'Young Miss', 'Puppet'.

Yes, Puppet was perhaps the best way to describe her. Unable to move without a master pulling her strings, helpless, pathetic, powerless. No desires of her own, although if there were any they had long fizzled out in order to keep herself sane. When her strings could no longer be replaced and her stuffing fell out, she'd be disposed of.

Perhaps it was that apathy that had brought her to where she was now, married to a man she did not choose to marry, trapped within a house that was not home, and faced with a butler kneeling before her with a tray. 

"Was this sent by the Master?" Her voice was cold and emotionless, eyes blank and somewhat unseeing as she gazed at the tray before her. Placed upon the metal tray was a glass of water and a white powder, a length of rope, and a bullet. An unusual gathering of items to be presented by a butler to their master, but then again this was not a butler of this household but one sent by the person who had made her this way. His eyes were just as blank as hers.

The butler nodded and lowered his head, still presenting the metal tray. "The Master sends his regards and a message. 'You've finished your task, your escape is allowed.'" The butler's reply sent a wave of shock through her before she relaxed again. She had been expecting this to happen, just not as soon. Had the Master already consumed her husband's company? There should've been at least a couple more months left. Then again, she wasn't meant to be good at calculations anyway. Being trapped in this mansion was getting tiring anyway, the beatings didn't hurt as much anymore but they still left scars. A damaged puppet was of no use to the Master anyway.

It was strange though, making a choice for the first time in her twenty-five years of life and that choice being how she would die. How kind of the Master.

"... The poison, please."

"Yes, Young Miss. It will make you sleepy and cause no pain."

"Tell the Master I thank him for his kindness and pity for this useless one."

"Of course, Young Miss."

The butler stepped away and she watched as he poured the white powder into the glass of water and mixed it in with a silver spoon, the clear substance becoming cloudy and opaque. Once thoroughly mixed in, the butler offered her the glass cylinder and she took it gingerly, swirling the liquid around in the glass for a short time as she became buried in thought. Unbeknownst to her, her hand was tightly gripping the table next to her, fingers digging into the high-quality wood and leaving scratches behind. 

So this was it.

"Butler?"

"Yes, Young Miss?"

"Was I a good puppet, at the very least?"

The butler assumed a kneeling position on the floor and lowered his head before meeting her eyes head-on, the look within the previously blank orbs now sincere and respectful. 

"One of the best, Young Miss. Rest easy."

With that said, her grip on the table relaxed as she threw back her head and gulped down the glass until not even a drop was left behind. The butler retrieved the glass from her and placed it back onto the tray, bowing as he left the room to leave her to her final hours, maybe even minutes of life.

This life of mine, was never really mine, was it? 

Already she could feel the poison kicking in as her eyes grew heavy and body relaxed. There really was no pain, although it was much slower than the bullet would've been. More peaceful as well, in a way.

I'm pathetic. I didn't even get to wear a wedding dress I picked or have the cake flavor I wanted for birthday parties. I have not ever made a single decision for myself, have I?

As her eyes came to a close and her breathing slowed, her thoughts similarly began to come to a lull. There was not much that could be left to be said.

If I had... another chance... I'd never... let anyone decide for me... I would... become the puppetmaster instead... no matter how ridiculous it may sound. I.....

I want power.

And with that final thought, the puppet whose name few remembered passed away, sat in a chair as pretty as the doll she was meant to be, and without anyone to care she was gone. A pitiful and forgotten life. A life that had not even been properly lived.

" How touching. I've been looking for something new to watch. I'll grant this little wish of yours, puppet, as long as you give me a show. Don't disappoint me, fufufu."

countess_c

Hello, readers! I hope you enjoyed my first story on here and leave some comments. I'd love to see what you all think of this first chapter.