Cecil was made from fine cloth and someone else’s hair. Koda, his maker, didn’t know he could talk, or think, for Koda only concerned himself with hurting Dobri.
Dobri was a vicious boy. He was wealthy and spoiled rotten. Koda had yet to learn that you cannot kill people simply for being unpleasant, so to take Dobri’s life, Koda made Cecil.
Cecil burned for Dobri, felt his pain, bore deep gauges for him, knowing all the while he was killing him slowly and bearing the painful burden of it.
When Koda couldn’t stand to leave Dobri alive any longer, he heaved Cecil into his pack, folding and stuffing him until he fit. Koda left Cecil and slashed Dobri, tearing through Cecil as his knife dragged upward. Cecil felt the searing pain but couldn’t scream or cry out.
Dobri writhed in pain, calling for his mum, his family, everyone who coddled him. But they watched. They watched as he sputtered out.
Cecil’s heart broke for Dobri and soon, he found himself rolling from the pack, moving his legs on his own and walking curious steps to Dobri. He heard gasps as he stepped, felt stares as he bent down to embrace Dobri as his heart labored to push his blood through his body.
Cecil held him as he died, stroked his mess of black hair. He cried while he pondered why he got to live while Dobri died.
He pressed a kiss into Dobri’s head and jolted when a hand touched the hairs on Cecil’s head. Dobri yanked the hairs from his head, breaking the link between the real boy and the mammet man, so they each could find their peace.
-Mammet Man ©Aubrey “Meeks” Brown 2015