“Just relax. Breathe, Jack. It’s going to be okay,” whispers Gina in my ear, her arm around my shoulder to try to slow down my nervous shivering. I look down at myself, dressed in the tiny doll clothes formal wear set Julia gave to me to wear, and anxiously pluck at the edges of the shirt, trying to straighten them. As if that would make any difference.
“Just focus man, focus. This is the beginning. Of… everything. Of how we’re finally going to stop her. You’ve got this,” says Brian confidently, patting me on the back as I slowly walk toward the place in the plastic doll house where the elevator cup will be lowered by my giant date for the evening, waiting to raise me up to what will undoubtedly be one of the most nerve-wracking events of my life. As Brian said, this is, indeed, the beginning. And if I screw up that beginning tonight, and doom one or all of us as a result, I’ll get to go down with the knowledge that it was all my fault for not being strong enough or not doing what was necessary because of some lingering fears in my mind.
“Don’t worry. Don’t think too much. Just be you,” smiles Gina, as if she just read my mind. Gently, she pushes me forward, and I step closer just as the cup is lowered down, hitting the base of the plastic floor with a threateningly soft clack. I turn around sheepishly and look at my four best friends in the world, who all smile encouragingly at me. There’s nothing else that needs saying right now. I know that, right here and know, any fear I have I need to simply suck up and forget about it, for the sake of those four people behind me. I have to do this for them. Cautiously, I step into the cup and feel it being pulled up and out of this “safe” area.
My heart begins to pound harder in my chest as the sight of Julia fills my vision, the cup dangling from her fingers high above. She’s clearly been busy while I’ve been sweating out bullets down in the doll house waiting for her to come for me, like a death row prisoner patiently awaiting the executioner.
Her hair has been straightened with a flat iron, and the sheen of it is absolutely radiant. She grins, a glossy, sparkly light pink lipstick adorning her full lips. Her plumped lashes seem to bat more vigorously at me, and it’s so overwhelming a sight to take in I feel the adrenaline only getting worse. And, of course, the rest of her is clothed in what looks like a reasonably expensive prom dress with a deep blue rolling fabric and sequins, no-doubt something she got her parents to buy her for the upcoming event at the high school. It’s like having a model on a billboard suddenly stare straight at me in some deeply carnal fashion. Dangerous and beyond thrilling at the same time. I can hardly breathe.
“Hello, Jack,” she whispers slowly, the words almost slurring together as she hungrily utters them. It’s a far cry from what I normally hear from her. Tangentially, the thought occurs to me that Julia probably picked up this dress simply for this particular occasion right now, because I’d be willing to bet everything I have in the world that she hasn’t nor ever will want to have a boyfriend that she can’t pick up and keep in her pocket. The potential boy wouldn’t be able to stand Julia’s insane neuroses despite her alluring cuteness, and Julia wouldn’t be able to stand her inability to literally step on her would-be significant other.
“Hello… Julia,” I swallow hard, trying to remain calm and collected. She smirks, obviously aware of how striking she looks right now and intent on drinking in my powerlessly awed reaction to her. Slowly, her other hand comes up under the elevator, her palm cupped just below it. Gingerly, I step out and onto the flesh of her hand. Instantly I can detect a sweet, vanilla-like scent emanating from her skin; she probably lathered lotion over every inch of herself, not wanting to miss a single detail of this thing.
“You look very handsome in that outfit,” she comments smoothly, standing back up to her full height as I sprawl in her palm, awaiting her to level back out so I can stand up. I smile back as convincingly as I can.
“Thanks. And… you look nice, too,” I say, pausing slowly before the last phrase, knowing how important it will be for my new girlfriend/dastardly captor to hear and appreciate the significance of it. As I suspected, Julia smiles widely, her eyes lighting up like Christmas instantaneously with unkempt joy and desire that scares me for a moment, but it softens just as quickly as it comes. She shakes her head, batting her eyes more purposefully.
“Shall we go to dinner, Jack?” she inquires politely, as if there was a choice here. I nod and receive a warm smile back from Julia, who proceeds toward the door of her rather large bedroom, grasps the handle, and swings it open, sending a rush of air into my face that almost makes my eyes water as she begins trekking through the spiraling heights of the lavish hallway.
I have to admit, a trip out of Julia’s room is a treat in of itself, since it happens so very rarely, and most of my time otherwise is spent cooped up either in that doll house, on Julia’s desk, or in her lovingly tightened fist. Getting to see the hallways and rooms of the mansion, already huge in its own right, at a scale so incomprehensibly massive that all I can do is try unsuccessfully to drink it all in is something I look forward to. It’s not a particularly pleasant reminder of the fact that I’m totally helpless and devoid of escape possibilities while cupped in the palm of Julia’s hand, but it gets so tragically, skull-numbing monotonous in that bedroom, frankly, seeing anything else helps keep my mind engaged enough to not turn into oatmeal.
The journey becomes even more wild as we descend the staircase to the lower floor: something I haven’t done in two years, now that I think about it. The area seems dark around, with only a dim light coming from the next room. I squint, trying to make out the details of it as Julia calmly steps toward it, the heels she’s wearing clacking powerfully against the tile floor.
Finally, as Julia enters the kitchen, I can see it, and it’s impressive. A large crystal chandelier hangs over the table from the high ceilings, light dancing merrily in the ornaments from the flickering of four candle lights dotting the table, which is set for two, with fine china on one side, and in the center of the table, a tiny set-up with a toy doll’s table and Barbie utensils. The whole thing is undeniably impressive, and I can’t help but feel glee in my heart. More and more, I’m seeing just how possible all of this dreamland-esque escape plan stuff could become if I perform well tonight.
“So… what do you think?” asks Julia brightly, clearly trying to hide the nervousness in her voice, as if I wouldn’t like it all, as she comes to a stop in front of the table. I look up at her, smirking with as much delight as I can artificially conjure.
“It looks terrific,” I answer simply.
“Thank you,” she responds, looking relieved. “Normally, of course, a gentleman would pull out his date’s chair, but…” drawls Julia dreamily, pressing a finger to her chin as if debating whether or not to place me on the floor next to her heels and ask me to move a chair the size of a modest skyscraper. “…since our circumstances are a little, um…” she says delicately, as if afraid she’ll hurt my feelings. “…special, I suppose we’ll just have to make up our own rules, won’t we, Jack?”
“I guess so,” I shrug, trying to sound supportive. Slowly, Julia leans forward into the table and, pinching the tiny doll chair between her thumb and forefinger, plucks it out and raises it up to her other hand that’s still holding me steadily. She places it on her fingers and grins expectantly at me. Carefully, I take a seat in the chair, which Julia quickly closes around with her fingers to prevent me from falling and lowers it back to the table, gingerly placing me and my little plastic seat back in front of the table. Finally, Julia pulls her own massive chair out, takes a seat, and folds her hands in her lap, smiling magnanimously at me, a devious glimmer alighting in her oceanic irises.
Here we go…