I used to watch the world go by everyday, from my shelf. Well, Monday to Saturday, since on Sundays the environment around us hibernated. We would sleep our way through the day until 8.30 a.m. sharp the following morning. It had taken me ages to get used to the chime that Mr. Buzzlefair had placed over the door. The sound had been too startling. Listening to it each time a client came in had been far from my favourite past-time. I had overheard old Mr. Buzzlefair explain to his irritated wife, after she'd taken the chime down for the nth time (God bless her), that it was useful for them to be aware of clients coming and going.
Mr. Buzzlefair's little toyshop was not always a busy one and I did not like standing and staring all day on Mr. Buzzlefair's shelf. I had tried more than a few times to run away while Mr. Buzzlefair wouldn't be looking. THAT is the real reason why I hated the door chime so much. It was a threat to my freedom. As soon as I opened the door, Mr. Buzzlefair would come running and find me lying still on the floor, and then he would wonder for ages how on earth I had ended down there.
My friend Beatrice used to scold me frequently. She was a very obedient and quiet little doll. I loved Beatrice to bits, she'd always been the sweet one. I...I was the ambitious one. We used to spend hours chatting on our shelf side-by-side, until one day she was bought by a poor, shabby, little girl. It had been a nightmare for me. I still remember the way I had trembled in alarm and fear of being picked by that little brat. That wasn't the way I had planned for myself to end up. I had always dreamt of belonging to a nice, rich family who could take proper care of me. "Can I take this one please?" the girl had asked respectfully to her mother. Beatrice had been chosen. I wasn't surprised. Her sweet smile never left her cheeks. I still feel tears welling in my eyes when I recall her smiling, blowing me kisses from the counter and whispering goodbye, while the door chimed open & she was carried away.
My friend Beatrice used to scold me frequently. She was a very obedient and quiet little doll. I loved Beatrice to bits, she'd always been the sweet one. I...I was the ambitious one. We used to spend hours chatting on our shelf side-by-side, until one day she was bought by a poor, shabby, little girl. It had been a nightmare for me. I still remember the way I had trembled in alarm and fear of being picked by that little brat. That wasn't the way I had planned for myself to end up. I had always dreamt of belonging to a nice, rich family who could take proper care of me. "Can I take this one please?" the girl had asked respectfully to her mother. Beatrice had been chosen. I wasn't surprised. Her sweet smile never left her cheeks. I still feel tears welling in my eyes when I recall her smiling, blowing me kisses from the counter and whispering goodbye, while the door chimed open & she was carried away.
Now I was alone. I kept refusing to look charming to all the little girls who came in and I did my best to hide myself behind all the balls and the dirty boyish toytrucks, who were always calling me a stuck-up; anything as long as I wouldn't be bought. I had fancied no-one as the person who would play with me all their life.
One quiet day, while I was bored to death fumbling with the trimmings on my dress, I heard the bells chime. I looked up with disinterest and saw a very pretty girl, dressed stylishly despite her young age. I straightened up and gathered that her father had brought her to our toyshop to buy a nice gift for her birthday. For the first time in weeks I decided it was time for me to smile. I watched her studying all of us in a row, while I kept my fingers crossed behind my back.
The first few days as Casey's doll were a dream come true. I was treated with respect and my little mistress showered me with affection everyday, until one day I woke up to a huge row coming from downstairs. I heard Casey shouting at her mother and running up the stairs. She slammed the bedroom door open and started throwing all her other toys across the floor. "Thank God, she loves more more," I thought. Then, to my extreme surprise she grabbed me and pulled out my right hand. I felt myself being flung in the air and out the window! I fell for what seemed like ages and finally hit the ground with a thud. The world went black.
I dont know how many hours passed till I regained consciousness. I woke up, battered and bruised. It took me all effort to get up on my feet and start walking. I was never going back to Casey's again. Was this how wealthy girls took care of their dolls? I made my way through the wood and found myself by a river. As I was going to sit down and rest for a while, I spotted a little girl playing. She looked familiar.
I approached them curiously and when I was near enough I recognised them. There was Beatrice being pampered with plaits on her head that her mistress had just made. I was too embarassed to call out, but Beatrice spotted me and she jumped up. "Oh look another doll!" Mary told Beatrice. "Poor thing, look how dirty she is.. and she's got no arm!!" She lifted me up. "Let me take care of you sweet thing," she whispered in my ear as she kissed my face. "Mommy won't say no to you. We don't have any money to buy you new clothes, but you will be safe with me," she smiled.
Beatrice looked overjoyed. "This is where love and care come from," I could feel her teasing. Too bad my arm had to be pulled off before I could realise what should really mean to me. At least now I was safe, and more importantly, back with Beatrice. I wanted to tell her about all that had happened but Beatrice shushed me fondly. "You're tired. Just feel safe. We'll talk later." And I closed my eyes and let go of my thoughts as I concentrated on the sound of birds and the river and opened myself to a poor girl's love.
The first few days as Casey's doll were a dream come true. I was treated with respect and my little mistress showered me with affection everyday, until one day I woke up to a huge row coming from downstairs. I heard Casey shouting at her mother and running up the stairs. She slammed the bedroom door open and started throwing all her other toys across the floor. "Thank God, she loves more more," I thought. Then, to my extreme surprise she grabbed me and pulled out my right hand. I felt myself being flung in the air and out the window! I fell for what seemed like ages and finally hit the ground with a thud. The world went black.
I dont know how many hours passed till I regained consciousness. I woke up, battered and bruised. It took me all effort to get up on my feet and start walking. I was never going back to Casey's again. Was this how wealthy girls took care of their dolls? I made my way through the wood and found myself by a river. As I was going to sit down and rest for a while, I spotted a little girl playing. She looked familiar.
I approached them curiously and when I was near enough I recognised them. There was Beatrice being pampered with plaits on her head that her mistress had just made. I was too embarassed to call out, but Beatrice spotted me and she jumped up. "Oh look another doll!" Mary told Beatrice. "Poor thing, look how dirty she is.. and she's got no arm!!" She lifted me up. "Let me take care of you sweet thing," she whispered in my ear as she kissed my face. "Mommy won't say no to you. We don't have any money to buy you new clothes, but you will be safe with me," she smiled.
Beatrice looked overjoyed. "This is where love and care come from," I could feel her teasing. Too bad my arm had to be pulled off before I could realise what should really mean to me. At least now I was safe, and more importantly, back with Beatrice. I wanted to tell her about all that had happened but Beatrice shushed me fondly. "You're tired. Just feel safe. We'll talk later." And I closed my eyes and let go of my thoughts as I concentrated on the sound of birds and the river and opened myself to a poor girl's love.
No comments:
Post a Comment