+Doll - GL+

She was the perfect doll.

It’s soft cloth skin looked almost like porcelain, it was the perfect shade of marble white. A small mouth with painted red lips. Large, polished brown eyes that twinkled with recreated life. Long, brunette curls that tumbled down its the tiny shoulders. It was clothed in the simplest, but most pleasant, of clothes. It wore a white and navy blue stripped sweater with a navy blue jumper overtop. Its long legs were in black and light purple tights. And around it’s tiny neck was a rosary. Even the crucified Jesus on the tiny cross was detailed, right down to the curled fingers and the shaggy hair.

It was the perfect doll, for the perfect girl.

The little girl loved this doll more than anything in the world. From the moment she had untied the ribbon to her birthday gift and the sparkled paper wrapper fell from it’s protecting cocoon, she had adored it completely. Its false hair was so soft, tickling against her blushing skin. Its white body was comforting and soft to hug and cuddle. And it’s eyes! So lifelike. The girl knew that it was a doll, just a lifeless imitation of life. But those eyes! They seemed to gather every speck of light in the room, for they glimmered so delightfully with what the girl wished were consciousness.

But it was a doll. Just a doll.

The girl played with this doll everyday. From the moment she woke up to when she was put to bed, the doll was always in her arms. Gossiping about the rowdy boys in the schoolyard. Wearing matching dresses and shoes. Drinking apple juice that to them was the sweetest of teas from across the sea. Hiding with her from the gloomy and sinister ghouls that hid in the shadowy corners of night, and smiling in delight when the sun awoke in the early morning and brought a new and pleasing day.

When they swung on the giant black tire swing her father had tied to the tree out in the back yard, they both shared that delightful experience of their feet flying off the ground, the wind caressing their faces and their hair with a maternal and gentle love.

When her mother played the piano after dinner and sang songs that the girl knew by heart, she would sing along and dance around and around in circles, the doll in her arms, spinning with her. And when her large and trusting blue eyes finally closed to go to sleep, the doll was right there beside her, staring up at the ceiling. It’s small and dark lips smiling endlessly as it remembered the way the girl had whispered, “I love you”, and kissed her on the cheek before falling sleep.

And just when the girl had drifted off into a deep slumber, tiny white fingers would brush back her long strawberry blonde hair across the girls tanned skin, the doll completely content in just being there.

A long time passed like this. Life was bliss, frosted with sugar and happiness.

Until one day there was another sparkly gift sat on the dinner table, awaiting the girl.

The girl stared at the present, completely consumed by the burning desire to see, to know, what was inside such glittering wrapping paper. It was so big! So sparkly…! When the present reached the girls hands, she dropped her doll to the floor and ripped apart the present, greed hungrily guiding her clawed fingers as they reached their final destination. Another beautiful doll, with long curly blonde hair and almost feline, hazel eyes. Her skin wasn’t as pale as the other doll. No, this doll had a reddish hue to the body that made it look even more like a little girl. Its lips were wide with a flawless grin, with even darker red lips. And the dress was extremely elaborate. Detailed right down to every inch of it—from the collar to the hem. A breath-taking shade of blue, with dress shoes to match.

This doll was perfect.

For the first time ever, the previous doll was left all to itself for the entire day. It was left on the floor as the girl ran off with the new doll to show to the household. The doll lay on the floor, staring blankly at the dusty and neglected floor underneath the dinner table. It waited, and waited, and waited. Ever hopeful that the girl was coming back to get her. Time passed, and the doll still waited. When it heard footsteps thumping along the wood floor, the doll’s hope reached an all time high as it waited for the anticipated moment when it would feel the girl’s soft and loving arms again. Instead, it was someone else. The mother came by while cleaning and picked up the doll, briefly looking it over before shrugging. She carried it by the doll’s arms upstairs, to the bedrooms. The doll wondered if the mother was taking it to the girl. Maybe the girl had temporarily forgotten about her? Yes, that had to be it, the doll decided. The mother was bringing her to the girl to remind her of her existence.

But the next thing it knew, it was tossed carelessly into the corner of the little girl’s room.

The doll was shocked! It had never been treated so carelessly before. Not once in it’s life had it ever been thrown, much less forgotten!

The doll waited and waited, hoping that this was some bad dream. That this was all an illusion, a trickery of the mind just to scare the poor little thing.

When the girl returned at night, already asleep in her father’s arms when he went to tuck her into bed, something inside the doll died inside when it saw the girl holding the new doll close to her heart.

The heart that it used to be held against.

The doll watched the girl blankly, as it had done every night before, while the girl slept peacefully with the new doll. When the doll looked over at the new doll, a bitter feeling overtook it. A strong resentment that she could feel eating itself from the inside out. A rotting, ugly feeling. That doll was in her place! She was the one who slept with the girl, not this new doll! It was her place. Hers!

But despite that, things didn’t change. Dust began to gather on the doll as it watched; the days and nights passing with a miserable sadness. The girl became attached to this new doll. It was now the new doll that slept and awoke with her. It was the new doll that the girl wore matching dresses with. It was the new doll that swung with her on the tire swing, and danced with her to the sweet melodies of the piano.

The doll came to a bitter realization that nearly crushed it’s non-existent heart.

She had been replaced.

And so it lay there in the corner, covered by more than just dust now, as other toys were left in that corner. The doll had never realized just how many things had been left here, neglected and forgotten. She had always been too busy being with the girl to take much notice to anything irrelevant to its owner.

But now…

There was so many…!

She vaguely remembered some of them. Stuffed teddy bears and lions that were even older than her, filled with stitches and open holes that leaked out fluffy white stuffing, and even tinier dolls than herself that seemed beyond repair.

This only fueled the doll’s bitter resentment of the new doll. She had been replaced and now she was going to be completely forgotten, just like these other toys! She was worth much more than that. She had been made stitch by stitch for this girl. She was meant to be with the girl, just like the girl was meant to be with her.

One day, the girl was forced to clean her room by strict orders of her mother. The doll distinctly heard the mother say to the girl that she was to give her anything she didn’t want anymore, so that she could throw them way for good.

The doll was frightened, but determined to resist fate. It wasn’t going to get thrown out like those other toys. No, she had a plan. And it was going to work, and life would go back to the way it was again.

So, while the girl was too preoccupied to notice anything, the doll climbed up a giant bookshelf, filled with neglected books that were never read. The doll’s jumper and it’s own limbs had caught the wood a couple of times, ripping open the flesh and pulling out it’s stuffing. But the doll didn’t give up. It almost slipped, almost lost its grip and fell. But it held on, and with its hard work and endurance it soon reached the top triumphantly.

There was only one thing left to do.

With one last look from above at the new doll, the doll stretched its arms out and jumped off from the top of the shelf. Flying overhead, then suddenly falling. Nothing left to hold it back; the room sweeping past her in a horrendous blur as she reached out for its owner with all her might.

But the girl was too busy to notice any such thing, and the doll fell in strife, staring sadly at the back of the girl of whom she had loved so devotedly. The doll didn’t grab the girls attention. It didn’t reach her and remind her how soft and cuddly she was, way back when.

It had failed.

When the girl turned back around, preparing to pick up more toys that she didn’t want, she noticed a strange sight laying at her. An odd doll that she faintly recognized. But it’s pale skin had turned a sickish yellowish. Its curly hair was an absolute mess, as well as its clothes. The large, brown eyes no longer held any sort of gleam. They were dull and bleak, utterly lifeless, even for a doll. And it’s poor body. Ripped almost to shreds.

It was a ruined doll.

Without a second thought the girl picked it up and threw it into the very same pile that she’d give to her mother to throw out for good.

The doll lay amongst the ruined, the forgotten. No longer loved, no longer cherished.

Just another broken, ruined doll.

Too imperfect for the perfect girl.


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The End