Story #1: Control

She was an enigma. No one really understood her. In fact, she didn't really understand herself either. Her only friend was her father, who was much too busy to spend time with her anymore after being appointed as Lead Surgeon. She came from a long line of wealthy and successful families. However, her father loved her and would do anything for her. He bought her dresses, make up, dolls and gadgets; literally given anything she ever wanted since birth. He also named her Darla; a shortened name for Darling. All her father asked of Darla is to be good and never leave him. He always emphasized on 'not leaving him' sternly so much so that Darla found it to be quite eerie at times.

As she grew older, Darla grew tired of restrictions. She became a rebel and hated being held back. Her behavior and attitude was looked down upon by other members of her family as it was not a 'prestigious' person's way. Being a teenager, Darla suffered numerous heartbreaks as many were scared of her family and the fact her father never approved of any relationship, made her become a strong misanthropist. She looked down at her pale white hands; fingers bony and long. She has done nothing in life. Nothing compared to her family's achievements. She felt useless, different, unwanted and insecure. Her silk-like blonde hair blew across her face as she looked down from the ledge of her school's rooftop. With her almond shaped eyes closed, she jumped off.

Bright lights stung her eyes. She thought she was supposed to be dead. She began thinking whether she was in heaven or hell. Slowly opening her eyes, it became clear she was back in her room. But why was she still alive? Why doesn't she feel any pain? These thoughts ran laps in her mind while she was staring into the air.

"Awake?', her father's voice echoed. But her father wasn't in the room. Suddenly she felt strong tugs at her limbs. Confused, she looked down at her body. Much to her horror, she noticed her body did not look the same anymore. Her joints are now made of screws and her skin resembled patchwork quilts, but only made of different skins stitched together. Her eyes teared up and she yelled "What did you do to me?!". The putrid smell of rotten and old skin on her own body engulfed her senses. Her uniform was drenched in blood and bits of unknown substances clinged onto the fabric.

"Didn't I tell you not to leave me?", her father replied and appeared behind her holding metallic threads attached to Darla's joints.

"Now you definitely won't be leaving me anymore."