(Tom's POV)

I had always taken care of both me and Tomee Bear, learning how to sew and repair for when the Toymaker gets particularly violent. Though he may be my guide, it did not necessarily mean that he was the one taking care of us. The pain in the part of my arm still intact had gone down a considerable amount, enough to replace it at the very least. Tomee watched me in slight interest and anticipation. I grasp my broken arm tightly, internally preparing for the slight pinch that would come my way. I inhale sharply, shutting my eye lids. I pull on the broken appendage with a strong tug, the limb coming out of its socket with a loud pop! Ignoring the soreness now sourcing from the empty socket, I let out the fake breath and drop the chunk of wood. It falls with a loud clunk and rolls around dully.

I motion for Tomee to grab a spare arm from the beaten cardboard box. He reaches in, feeling around and rattling all the spares. They clank together, the small stuffed arm disturbing their restful position. He reaches in further, now ducking his small head down into the tumbledown box. Using both arms to thoroughly search for the extra pre-created limb. Eventually, with a small 'Aha!', Tomee arises from the interior with a wooden right arm (bigger than his body, I might add) in a tight hug. He waddles over to me, placing the limb in my attached hand. I give him a nod of thanks before busying myself with replacing the arm.

First I place my arm down for a moment amidst the scattered tools thrown carelessly on the work bench, wood shavings carpeting the surface. I flicker my 'eyes' around, picking through my surroundings until it lands on a small spool of navy blue thread. I slide it closer to me, unraveling the thread slightly. I grab my new arm once more and hover it near my shoulder socket. With as much force as can muster, I jam the spherical shape at the end of the arm into the socket. I feel my shoulder area widen a bit before enclosing around the joint.

I am not finished yet. I simply had attached a limp piece of wood to my body. I now had to make it function. Properly, I might add.

I pick up the spool of thread once more, unraveling more of the string. I start to wrap it tightly around the gap between my shoulder and the limp limb. Tomee, in the meanwhile, had fetched a pair of scissors for me. I thank him with a small nod as I hold the thread in place with my mouth. Grasping the small scissors, I snip at the thin string and tie it together with a neat double knot. As I lay the scissors down, I feel the life come back into my arm.

Tomee admires the magic with amazement, his singular line eye seemingly sparkling. The gap between my new arm and my shoulder starts to close. The strings sink into my wood 'flesh', getting engulfed by liquid-like timber. Control creeps back into my arm, the empty numbness disappearing like a breeze; brushing away, but still lingering slightly. A few, glowing, bright blue strings whip out from within my arm, wrist, elbow, and shoulder. They ties themselves to my control bar with ease and fade into a navy blue. I shudder as a shiver climbs up my back, as per usual after a repair. I rub my shoulder with my left hand, a small scraping of wood against wood grating my ears. I test the new appendage by rising it a bit, bending the elbow slowly, and stretching out my digits.

A small smile forms onto my lips as I forget the incident that caused all my pain in the first place. A few moments of me getting used to the brand new limb pass with moonlight dripping in from the uncovered window. Tomee pokes my arm to catch my attention.
"Tom, we have to clean up downstairs." He says a bit emptily. A frown quickly tugs on my face, taking the place of my smile. I give a curt nod and scoop up Tomee with one arm. I place the scissors into the limb box alongside with the spool of the special thread. I push the box back into the dark and dusty corner, sliding it along the grainy floor.

Dusting off my hands, I walk back to Tomee. We both walk somberly out the door, dreading the mess we'll face once we return downstairs. A silence hangs between us, both of us too tense to try and break it. Not that I could anyway. We make it to the top of the staircase once more, already catching a glimpse of the large spill of splinters at the bottom. I pick up Tomee gingerly and quickly walk down, my control bar rattling and tumbling loudly. The strings were getting tangled again, but I couldn't care less. Jumping at the last step, Tomee hops out of my arms and slowly makes his way toward the disgusting remains of my old arm.

I stare at the mess, it looking worse than I had remembered. I felt nauseous inside the longer I watched. My old arm lay there, forgotten. The side in which it was split was horrifyingly compressed from Master's boot. Shards of wood sticking up unevenly, some even ingrained deeper into the appendage. I tear my vision away from the sight as I search for a broom to sweep this away. Sweep it away from my memory, perhaps. That would be a nice thought. Just being able to forget the more traumatizing moments of your life.

Is this really a life? A life I had never asked for, as it may be. Maybe if my life were that of a human, it would be more...lively. But who am I to say? I am just a mere puppet held together with strings. A feeble attempt at mimicking human life. Alive, yes. But flawless? Of course not. I cannot speak. I have no eyes. I can't even please my creator, the sole reason for my existence! Why even exist if I don't fulfill the role I was meant to play? I have no basics of a human. No skin, no bones, no heart, no brain, the list goes on. Nothing that is that of a human. Ironic as it is, I feel as lifeless as a puppet. Constantly waiting on commands for others, never making my own decisions. The only way I could truly be alive is if I were scrapped and put into a human body!

Oh.

I found the broom. My grip tightens on the handle as I make my way out the corner of the shop and back to Tomee. He had picked up the severed arm and was now examining it. He gives a small sigh before leaving to toss it out like the garbage it came from. I walk slowly to the carnage of fiber and start to sweep slowly. Truly cruel, is it not? Ordering one to clean their own blood and flesh after forcing them to repair themselves. Making them relive the horrifying events that caused the scene. Cruel indeed.

I feel plush arms wrap around my calf, a cushioned head rubbing against it. Looking down, there is a Tomee Bear attempting to comfort me. It works. Just slightly though.
"Stop those thoughts. He cares about us, you know that."
But—
"No, please stop," he begs quietly. I let out a silent sigh, one of my favorite things to do lately. I give a gentle smile and continue to sweep. He gives a final squeeze before dashing off to find the dust pan. I brush the wood chips slowly, compiling them into a mound. I notice Tomee with a glance, holding the small pan. He holds it in front of the splinter pile I created. I gently push the wood into the pan, getting as much as possible into it.

Once all the wood chips were pushed into the pan, Tomee dashed off once more to throw them out. I lay the broom against the wall and rest for a bit. I sit myself down onto the splinter-free hardwood floor and am- once again, left alone with my thoughts.
Is there a life better than this for a small puppet outside? The place Master forbids me to leave for? I wonder. Perhaps I could live a new life, one free of pain. And of course I'll do it all with Tomee. We'd face the world together, as always.

I find myself smiling at the thought. Being free? Having my own choices? It's nice to think about, but the thought overwhelms me. I've known nothing more than the life within these walls. What if outside is nothing like how the old books in the study make it out to be? What if people are no better than Master?

Of course there is the chance that my master is the kindest and I'm just taking it for granted like the spoiled marionette I am.

"Tom?" Tomee pulls me out of my whirlpool of thoughts once more. "Can we...really leave?"
I tilt my head at the small plush toy. What did he mean?
"I-I mean, could we leave Master and go o-outside?" He stutters out, trying to find words that matched his thoughts. My eyes widen at him. Just a moment ago he was telling of how Master 'cared' for us, now he wants to leave?
"I know what I said! I just wanted to make you feel better!" Tomee whines, pouting. I giggle breathlessly and bend down to pick him up.

Quickly trotting up the stairs and into the record room, I place him down and head for the familiar ottoman against the wall. I lift up the lid and start to pull out the many records. Placing them on the ground carefully, I search through the box and find what I am looking for. Underneath all the records, carefully tucked away, is my old midnight blue cloak. Master made it for me when he actually cared. He gifted it to me when I came to life. I pull it out, careful not to let it catch on any nails or screws from the ottoman. The fabric is a bit thick and has designs lining the edge of the cloak, embroidered with baby blue thread. The large hood attached had fluffy cotton coating the inside. A metal button is placed on the left side of the opening of the cloak, with looped navy rope on the other side. The rope wound around the stitching that connected the hood to the rest of the cloak.

After admiring the nostalgic clothing, I decide to try it on. I wrap it around my small frame, letting it rest on my shoulders. I push the button through the rope to keep it in place and let the cloak fit snuggly. Feels just a comfortable as when I first wore it.
Leaving it on, I rifle through the ottoman once more. I pull out a large leather bag I made myself. It had one broad leather strap that is supposed to rest over my shoulder. The stitch work on it was a bit sporadic, for it had been the first time I had sewn leather. I still love it.

I slip the bag on and turn my body around to face Tomee. I give him all angles of my body, asking him 'How does it look?'. He giggles and responds with:
"It looks great, Tom."
Perfect for adventure. Perfect for exploring the endless wonders the world has yet to show me. I smile to myself before placing the items away neatly, back into their dusty habitat. Maybe one day we could leave. Soon preferably.

But that leaves one question on my mind.

Should we?

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a/n:

that's all for now. these were pre-made chapters. I was planning on typing 5 chapters, but motivation decided to yeet itself off a cliff. I'll try updating this story- if at all, if I somehow write more chapters like this.
thanks for reading so far.