The Dollhouse

Across the Endless sea

Everything inside the house is an exact replica of a real mansion that still exists somewhere in the world; probably inhabited by kings and queens and little princesses just like me and my sisters.

I sit in the library leafing through the pages of another book on philosophy. By now, I've practically memorized all the books. My favorites are the mysteries. I love the drama and intensity; the way the secret is always uncovered in the end. Maybe I'm the secret. I need uncovering now or I just might spontaneously combust.

I place the book on the desk next to me and rise. Out the window is a sky of light pink wallpaper with little glow in the dark stars speckled across.

My new house outside my house is very large. And my new master is also very large. He has mountains of fat swinging from his almost nonexistent neck and small beady black eyes like a Hawks. When I first saw him I was just glad to be off the ship. For over a few months, me and my sisters had been at sea, our senses flooded with the salty breeze and endless bright water. I felt so sick at first I could barely stand. I guess dolls get seasick too. I'd lie in bed for days straight staring at the ceiling and wishing for the torture to end.
       
My sisters on the other hand were filled with joy at finally getting a permanent home, one in America where all dreams could apparently come true. They didn't see the ocean as a prison and begged me to get up and enjoy the fresh scenery. The thing is, none of it was really new; only the landscape outside the house which was untouchable like a painting or sculpture in a museum. 
      
When we finally arrived I felt happy for the first time, not because of the adventure or new home but to be off the death ship. We were loaded into a truck and driven to a large mansion in the country side. My sisters squealed in delight. Why couldn't I be like them? Thoughtless, carefree, and happy. The fat man named Mr. Burns picked us up at the house and brought us inside humming happily to himself a song I'd never heard before. He set us on a table and in minutes we were being smothered in crinkly pink paper. It was everywhere. The whole house was pitch black and my sisters wailed in fear. We stayed that way for days until finally we felt ourselves being lifted up and then dropped. We heard voices and then tearing and then a large brown eye was staring into the window. A little girl.

"Really? For me?" She glowed with sheer excitement and wouldn't stop staring at us until her father finally agreed to set us up in her room.

"Let's have a tea party," she giggled when she was finally alone. And just one like that I was lifted out and plopped into the cold wood floor. And with that we once again switched keepers and I had a feeling this one wasn't going to go anytime soon.

Now I still state out the window. Even though we got off the boat months ago I still feel like I'm in the endless sea. One of which I can't escape.