Contract (5)

The three days after I put on the dress before my father were the final stage in turning me into a doll.

One day, I practiced walking.

My newly reattached legs still felt unfamiliar, as though they belonged to someone else, and would not move as I wished.

The soles of my feet split open and I cried out from the pain, but I did not stop.

I could not even imagine what would happen if I fell during the ceremony.

One day, I practiced smiling.

Sitting before the mirror, I forcibly lifted the drooping corners of my mouth with my fingers.

I made my eyes curve and my cheeks flush.

Even if my reflection was crying, my mouth alone had to smile.

The more I repeated it—whether a thousand times or ten thousand—the more real my reflection began to look...