Dolls

Chapter 2: Charlotte Elise Verchio

               I blinked, my vision blurry and unclear. I blinked again, some of the images around me clearing up. I was in a dark room, small dust flurries slipping through the air all around me. Old metal piping lined the ceiling and there were sagging wooden stairs to one side, leading up to the ground above. I was in a basement. There was a sharp, high pitched ringing in my ears as I began to hear. The ring faded to the sound of a joyous laughter, almost mad. The voice was deep and grainy. It was cracked, as if the voice had seen years of use. A tuft of white hair flowed into my vision and out of it again as the soft vibration of feet hitting a concrete floor reached my ears. Somebody was in the room with me.

            I felt a tingling in my numb fingers as I gained feeling for the first time. I gently moved my skinny fingers along the table I was laying on. There were little bumps and scratches covering the entire surface. It must have been used a lot. Suddenly, a warmth covered my fingers as the face of the white haired man came into my view.

           "You're moving!" he exclaimed before shooting his head upwards and looking over to the wall next to the stairwell, "Annie! She's moving, I did it!" He cried.

           I was confused. Who was he talking to? Who was Annie? I didn't have a chance though, because his attention shot back towards me. I gazed at the man's face, taking in his features, as he gazed at mine. His face was creased with smile lines and his white hair fell over his face, shadowing his features slightly. Although, I could tell that his eyes were a bright green and that his lips were pale and chapped. This old man, had he created me?

        My lips started to move had a mind of their own, forming a simple question that rested on the edge of my lips. The man suddenly smiled brightly when he say my attempt to speak. Had he gone mad from his success?

         "Shh, dear. There's no need for you to speak," he instructed me, "If I'm correct it'll take you a bit longer to learn to speak than it did to see, hear, and feel. It's a bit odd, but it all works out in the end," he explained cheerfully. I still didn't know who the man was, but he must have read the expression on my face. "I'm Jasper Felix Verchio, your creator, but you should call me Father," he told me.

         I nodded. Now, the next question was, who am I? I opened my mouth once again, ignoring his previous instructions not to try speaking. This time however, I managed it.

       Soft words spilled out from my lips, fluttering like butterflied in the air, "W-who am I then?"

        With this the man beamed once again. "You my dear, you're very special to me and my dear Annie. So, that means you get to be someone with a beautiful name. Your name is Charlotte Elise Verchio," he declared, "Consider yourself my daughter."

        "A-and who is Annie...Father?" I asked, trying out the term. It felt slightly strange to my tongue, but it seemed to be that way with all words at the moment. I was sure my tongue would get used to speaking soon.

      Father seemed overjoyed that I had called him so, so much that he almost forgot to answer my question. He hesitated for a moment, his wrinkled face blank.

      "Oh, right! Annie here is your mother," he told me, gesturing to the picture covered in dust on the wall. The woman was so young, though! She couldn't really be that age, could she? However, her thoughts were soon interrupted by Father's grainy voice, "Well now Charlotte, enough dilly-dallying. I want to test out your functions and make sure you're working correctly," He said.

     I nodded from my spot on the table and listened obediently to his simple instructions. "I've already seen that you can move your fingers nicely, so why don't you try and sit up for me?"