7Special thanks to:
Teacher Ian, for supporting my writings and teaching me how to draw better! XD This one was finished quickly because of your encouragement!
The Lunatic a.k.a. Katastrophe, for taking time to edit this and for being a great friend. Were even, I say! XD
It isn't much, but this one's for you.
The Doll Abysmal
Written by: S'cyre Lecareixz
Edited by: The Lunatic
A wind blew silently, strolling down the moonlit streets, greeting the trees with a brief hello. And the leaves rustled; their reply to the wind.
Inside a house, a black cat stood in front of the bookcase in the dusty and seemingly timeless attic, looking up to where a doll sat on the topmost shelf, leaning on the mirror.
If you had stopped there, dead still and silent, you would surely hear the doll speaking. It would seem that the cat was listening to the doll as it did…
"It's lonely here, in this place. I have been sitting on top of this bookshelf for a long time now. It is almost as if I have already been swallowed by oblivion itself.
"I have none a companion, for the other toys have been taken somewhere else as the little girl who owned me is gone. There are oceans of boxes of course, but I know almost all of them contain books, though some are miscellaneous items, they are only broken things, lifeless.
"The little girl who owned me was intelligent, I remember, and also slightly strange. Indeed there were times when she was like any other youngster- curious, playful and unruly, often amusing herself with her plastic dolls and stuffed animals. Yet there were times when she would become silent and suddenly retreat to the company of books, many of which belonged to her father who was a professor in a certain university.
"During her fifth birthday, the little girl's father gave her a present. It was very special, wrapped in white and purple tied with pink lace ribbons. The quiet little girl smiled at her father and opened the box unlike other five year olds would. She was patient enough to untie the ribbon and tear the wrapping paper almost politely. Finally she got to the box, but like any other child, she was delighted at the gift her daddy gave her. It was a doll. It was me.
"Oh how I remembered those joyous days when the little girl and I would play together. She seemed as though she had some sort of ability to animate inanimate objects such as myself. Every time she would pick me up, she cried out my given name excitedly.
"'Dolly! Dolly!' she'd call as she danced with me, holding my two arms, moving to an imaginary beat as she laughed happily as she saw me begin to take life.
"I remembered taking a step to the left first, and then to the right, and pretty soon I was laughing along with the girl. She seemed as if she knew perfectly well that I was, in a sense, alive.
"'Hello dolly!' She'd cry happily, taking me into her arms for a hug, 'Your name is Dolly from now on! Don't forget alright?'
"All I could do was nod slowly, trying to seem as happy as my unmoving features would permit me. But somehow, I knew the little girlfelt the way I did as she smiled as joyfully as I should have been. It was strange, the way we seemed connected… It was as if she shared a part of her soul with me.
"And we danced and played, the little girl's laughter ceaseless until her father would find it too noisy and knock at the door of his daughter's bedroom.
"No matter how many times in the night or day the little girl was loud, her father would never be the slightest angered. It seemed as though he came to check, rather than to chastise her.
"They were truly a strange family; it seemed they were the only ones in it too. I think the little girl had neither a mother nor any siblings, nevertheless both of them were happy and content even then, so I suppose I shouldn't feel sorry.
"Feel, I wonder again why a doll like me could ever do so; I have seen her countless toys scattered in her bedroom and there were none who were alive like me.
"I asked the girl with my high-pitched voice, 'Why am I the only one moving?'
"And she smiled and embraced me, 'It's because if I made all my toys alive I would be the one who'll be not moving!' she said, laughing,
"I looked at her and titled my head to the side, indicating a question.
"And she smiled and embraced me, saying, 'It's because if I made all my toys alive I would be the one who would not be moving!'
"Only then did I realize that the little girl did share a little piece of herself with me. The feeling was ineffable in a sense. It felt like I was really her and not just a doll. I could feel her energy, her liveliness, making me almost, just almost, human. And for that, I was thankful.
"For two years I lived happily with the little girl, waiting eagerly for her return from school. But one day she never came home. I had sensed something pierce through me and felt my neck split in two. I knew she had died then, yet somehow I hadn't.
""Who knows how long I had stayed there, lying on the wooden floor staring emptily at the ceiling, searching for the little girl's presence. I never found her, but somehow she found me. It was a vague memory; I was drifting away slowly but I felt myself being revived and before I knew it I was standing already!
"I thought the little girl was alive again and I was so happy I began to pace around the room. The gaiety was short-lived though, as I went in front of those things called a mirror. I knew the little girl couldn't possibly be alive because I knew I wasn't anymore.
"I was hideous; my clothes were ripped and dirtied beyond recognition, what was once flesh turned into paper white stained with brown, my neck had been sewn back crudely with black thread as were my right eye and my cheeks. For a brief moment I saw the girl standing behind me through the mirror. She looked exactly like how I did and I saw her pick me up, but I never felt my feet leave the ground for a second. I saw her embrace me, but I didn't see arms circle my cloth-like body.
"She put me down and gave a small smile, mouthing the words, "I will come back for you soon." And she was gone. It has been fifty years since then.
"And here I am, in the attic where her father put me just a few days after the little girl said she would come back for me. He looked at me with a very melancholic expression and set me on the top of this bookshelf, placing the mirror beside me.
"I still wonder why it's there, as I never see the little girl in it anymore. But I'll keep on waiting. Maybe her murder was only some sick nightmare that is coming to an end at last …"
The doll's voice seemed to fade and the cat stepped backwards, trying to see what had happened to it. The black feline noticed the doll sitting perfectly still. It then mewed, as if calling the doll, but the doll did not respond. Perhaps, the cat thought, that it was tired. It had been a long tale to tell.
It stood from its sitting position and stretched, clawing on the worn wooden boards of the floor before casually made it's way out the window, onto the roof and down into the garden.
It then ran to a nearby willow tree, where a little girl stood wearing only a plain white nightgown, tainted with crimson and dirt. She was deathly pale, almost white as paper with a hint of gray. Her neck appeared to be sewn together, almost crudely. Her right eye had been sewn shut. But she smiled and picked up the black cat as it reached her feet.
And she asked it, "How's Dolly…?"
Authoress' Notes... Babble:
A simple thing stuck in my head. This little girl and her dolls might finally get a rest for awhile. xD The little girl and the cat have names by the way xD I just thought it wouldn't fit right with Dolly telling the story.
Comments and suggestions are appreciated greatly. XD It's always a treat to hear what people think.
Oh, and it's one shot and this particular decision is final. XD There might be another short story concerning the little girl and her doll, but I have no inspiration as of yet.