Painting Fate

Sophie was in her studio when the doorbell rang. The sudden tear in silence startled Sophie, and she jumped. A large cup of green paint splattered across the sunset Sophie had been working on.

“Shit!”

In a rush, Sophie grabbed a paper towel to dab away the unwanted paint from her scene, but all she ended up doing was smearing it more.

The bell chimed again.

Sophie threw her towel and stomped towards the door. Instinct kicked in when she arrived, and instead of throwing it open, she peeked through the hole but could not see anyone. At her boiling point, Sophie throws the door open and bites her lip to stifle a scream. No one is out there, and the only culprit for ruining her art is a suspicious package wrapped in brown paper. She picks up the box and gives it a shake, which causes her to feel nauseous. Confused, she brings the box into her living room and sets it down on the coffee table while she grabs some scissors.

Blades in hand, Sophie slices through the brown paper and unwraps the strange gift.

Resting inside is a dollhouse. Sophie pulls the toy out of the box and discovers that it isn’t a dollhouse at all, but a small stage with a living room on top of it. Sitting on the brown leather couch is a wooden doll without a face or clothes. Sophie flips the stage over to try and find a manufacturing label or a note but finds neither. She looks back in the box it came from and sees a white envelope resting at the bottom. Curious, Sophie pulls the envelope out of the box and slides her finger through the sticky seal. Pulling the letter out, Sophie begins to read,

Hello, Sophie,

There are many questions you want to ask and not a lot of space to answer them. My name is Paul. I am a set engineer from the 2nd layer of existence. You, and the world around you, are part of the 1st layer. This may come as a shock, but everyone in your layer is controlled by people in mine through the doll set I have just sent you. If you move the doll, you will move too. If you speak to the wooden toy, you will repeat whatever is said to it. No one in your layer of existence knows that this is real, and if anyone were to get ahold of it, they could make you do anything. So make sure to keep it someplace safe.

I sent you this set to give you a chance to be free and to show my superiors that the people of your realm don’t need their lives to be written for them. Since you now have the power to choose, you get to decide if you want this power/knowledge. If you do, destroy the set to eliminate the doll's connection to my layer. Once the stage is destroyed, you can safely destroy the wooden toy without harming yourself. I repeat, destroy the stage first, then eliminate the doll. If, for some reason, you don’t want this gift. Leave both of these items under your bed when you go to sleep tonight. Once you are asleep, I will take the doll set back, and you will forget this day completely.

I wish you the best,

Paul

Sophie tears the letter up and throws the tiny slivers into the trash,

“What a freaking lunatic! Does this Paul fellow think I am some kind of fool? How did he get my address anyway?”

Sophie went back to the discarded brown paper and scanned it for a return address, but none was present. Even her address was missing. Meanwhile, the stage still sat on the coffee table, and Sophie couldn’t take her eyes off of it.

Upon closer inspection, Sophie could see that the miniature living room was an exact copy of her own. Same couch, same white walls, and same grey rug underneath the metal coffee table. Sophie picked up the wooden doll and moved it to the loveseat. When she finished setting the toy down, she found herself sitting on the same loveseat. She dropped the stage, and the whole house shook, sending Sophie to the floor. Once the tremors faded, Sophia scooped the doll set up and went into her art studio.

I don’t feel any different. Paul's letter said that I am now free to make my own decisions, but I felt like I had that power before. I’ll try painting something new and see how it goes.

Sophie removed her ruined sunset and placed a blank canvas onto her easel. She then picked up her brush and dunked it into the blue tub beside her. Hours pass, and when she is finished, she takes a step back to admire what she has done.

The distant stars grace her canvas’ background. In the middle of this cosmos is Sophie. She is wearing her favorite black hoodie with matching black torn jeans. The girl in the painting also has a pair of red converse and a matching scrunchy keeping her long black hair out of her eyes. This painted Sophie looks like she is falling. Above her are two hands holding marionette handles with strings attaching to each of Sophie’s limbs.

The real Sophie begins to cry,

Why do I feel more out of control now than I did before? I know, without a doubt, that I make my own decisions, but I’m afraid I will make the wrong one. How do I know if I will live out my life as I did before? I was never in control. Someone else was making all of the decisions for me. What happens if I try to live the life I think is right and fail? The people in control before were doing a pretty good job.

Sophie took the stage and went to her room. She slid the set underneath her bed and laid down. The time was 3:00 pm, Sophie had a whole day before her, but too many options to decide. Hours ticked by while she pondered her life. When night finally came, and Sophie fell asleep. Paul came and removed the stage from her world.

The next day, Sophie felt refreshed, she couldn’t remember why she was so upset yesterday, but whatever burden it had been was gone now. She went through her morning routine: breakfast, exercise, shower, and then off to the studio. Once inside, she gasped.

The painting that stood before her was a piece of art she did not remember making. It was her studio. Sophie was painting on a canvas, but inside that canvas was the exact same image. The closer she got, the more paintings within the painting she could see.

Without another thought, Sophie removed the painting. The strange piece of art left her feeling uneasy. When it was gone, Sophie picked up a new canvas and thought,

What should I paint today?

She raised her brush towards the sea of potential and said,

“I’ll just let fate decide.”