THE REVENGE OF THE RAGDOLL

Remember that ball of hatred?

It grew.

Until now, I’ve only spoken about my life in a day—work, therapy session, home; work, therapy session, home; work, therapy session, home—a fucking annoying cycle that kept repeating... and would’ve kept repeating for the rest of my life.

Until tonight.

Tonight is when things begin to get real fucked up.

“Angel,” Richard’s voice came again. I exhaled, staring at him from across the room. I could feel the fragile lies I had told tonight crashing down around me like the ceramic dishes in my kitchen.

I felt the judgmental stares of everyone in the hall. The one thing I feared more than anything else in the world—eyes.

“I…” I turned back to Harold. His face was unsure, confused... and a little heartbroken. He was waiting—hoping—for confirmation from me before he said his next words.

“I’m… sorry.” I lowered my gaze shamefully. There was no point lying to him now.

Harold’s eyes grew glassy. He glanced at Richard, stared for a second, and then walked away without a single word. The clump of his shoes echoed behind me, fading into the silence he left.

And then came Richard’s laugh.

I turned back toward him, teary-eyed and ready to burst. He and Jennifer stood side by side, their lips stretched into gleeful grins. Jennifer lifted her hand fan to her mouth, but her eyes brimmed with disgust.

Here we were again. Just like four years ago. I was broken, and these two devils stood before me, smiling like they’d just won trophies for making my life miserable. The only difference now?

There were more eyes. More whispers. More judgment.

More people...

Including—

“Angel?!”

Another familiar voice called out. My eyes widened.

I slowly turned toward it, a tear trickling down my left cheek—and there she was.

My mother stood just a short distance from Richard and his wife.

But it wasn’t just her.

Oh no—the universe wasn’t done making shit worse.

My brother and sister stepped out of the crowd, and suddenly, the whispers erupted.

> “The banished daughter of the Ramirez family.”

“That slut.”

“The outcast.”

My breaths shortened. My heart pounded as I looked from face to face, panic blooming in my chest.

What the hell are they doing here?

I thought they and the Angelos were rivals…?

“What are you doing here, you traitor?” my brother mouthed, his face twisted in scorn.

“This slut can’t stop bouncing from one man to the next. And now she wants to settle? Not even decent enough to do it far away from her past,” my sister sneered.

“Why couldn’t you stay with your husband, support him, help him succeed? Instead, you turned the public against him and dragged him to court. Shameful,” my brother added.

“No… no, please,” I whispered, tears spilling as I pressed my palms to the sides of my head.

Then I looked up—and locked eyes with my mother.

“Where are your supporters now? Where are all those peasants you used to humiliate us?” she said coldly. “You’re nothing but a pest, Angel. You destroy everything you touch.”

She stepped forward.

“And I’m not going to let you touch this family. Not again.”

I clenched my teeth, grimacing. A headache pulsed behind my temples. That ball of hatred throbbed, alive.

Then suddenly, the voices in my head—silence.

A cracking sound followed.

The ball had split.

And the darkness was finally seeping out.

I drew my hands from my head and slowly lifted my face. Eyes closed. Breath steady. Broken.

I turned away from the crowd and walked toward one of the security guards as laughter erupted behind me.

“Excuse me,” I said quietly. “Where’s the restroom?”

“Right this way, ma’am,” the guard replied, his eyes wide with concern. “Umm… are you okay?”

I stared at him for a moment and smiled.

“Yes. Yes, I am. Thank you.”

He nodded, offering a nervous smile, then led me down the corridor to the restroom.

---

The restroom was quiet—a place to escape the noise and the venom.

I placed my palms on the white ceramic sink, panting lightly beneath the harsh lights of a wide mirror.

My fingers fumbled into my bag, retrieving my makeup kit. I opened it, preparing to repair what the tears had ruined.

But as I lifted my head toward the mirror, I froze.

My reflection was smiling.

Startled, I stepped back.

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised to see me,” my reflection said, her voice laced with mock sadness. “That’s a little heartbreaking.”

“What the fuck?” I muttered. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m you, Angel,” she replied coolly. “Only better.”

She moved—gliding out of the mirror and into the one beside it.

“I’ve been with you ever since the fire, Angel. Watching quietly as you tried, and tried again, to recover from PTSD. All those therapy sessions… they did something. I admit. You started smiling again. You made a friend. You even found love.”

She paused, her smile twisting.

“But all it took to destroy it all was one fucking lie.”

“Everything’s fine. Nothing’s changed,” I argued, glaring at her.

“No, no, no, sweetheart. Harold left you because you’re a lying bitch—he’s never coming back. Your friend Christine saw how abrasive you were at the boutique; she’s done with you. And now your own family has rejected you—again. And worse, they’ve sided with the people who’ve always hated you.”

“No. You’re wrong. And you’re not real!” I screamed, tears streaming as I slapped the sides of my head, trying to shake her away.

She didn’t move.

“I’m as real as I can fucking get,” she said, voice hardening. “I’m the you that wants to rip everything apart—to set the whole goddamn world ablaze for what it’s done to us. I’m the one who wants to make them suffer. To make them beg for mercy until their last breath.”

She stepped closer, her face now furious.

“I’m the fucking RAGDOLL.”

The mirror cracked across her face.

And she smiled.

“I know just who to begin with.”