I first saw it on my way home from school one day, in the window of my local second hand store. Her blue eyes glistened in the sunlight, her blonde curly hair was carefully placed on her shoulders, her lavender dress covered her feet.. She was the perfect little victorian doll, and it would fit perfectly with my collection. I clung to the window and watched it as if the doll was going to move. But then the store clerk appeared by the window with a look that made me feel unwelcome to look at the doll, so I went on my way.
The next day after school, I passed by the second hand store again and saw the doll sitting the same it was the day before, with a pleasant smile on her cute little face. I wanted that doll, no. I needed that doll. So I decided that day, I would ask the clerk how much it was.
As I stepped into the store the bell calmly clinged and chimed. The store smelled of musk, dust, and old memories. I looked around the shop to find the clerk. He was helping a woman among the vast racks of barely used jeans. I slowly made my way towards him, looking at items that I had no interest in. I waited for him to stop talking to the woman, because I felt it was rude to just butt in. So I waited. And waited. And waited. Even though it might have been five minutes, it felt like an hour. I needed to have that doll. I needed it now. After what felt like an eternity, the woman finally thanked him and went on browsing the store, and the clerk went to the front counter. I took the opportunity to talk to him, so i sped the the front counter soon after. His aged, worn out face studied mine. He furrowed his brows and asked in an annoyed tone, “Can I help you?” He must have recognized me from the other day because of his tone of voice. “Uhhh…” I paused. “I wanted to know,” I stuttered, “how much the doll in the window was.” The clerk seemed to smirk as I brought up the doll. “That doll’s not for sale.”
“But,” I stopped myself.
“I don’t think a girl like you can afford such a doll.”
“But sir, money’s not a problem for me.” I said with confidence.
“No.” He said in a firm voice.
I stared at him in shock. He was breathing heavily and I figured I had upset him, so I turned around and ran. The embarrassment rushed in as I thought of what just happened. I kept replaying how i kept pushing it, and I imagined how his face could have gotten more and more red with anger. I must have seemed like an arrogant little girl who has no business in that store. But still, that burning desire for the doll was still inside me, eating me up inside. I was going to get that doll somehow, and at the moment I came up with a plan that was extremely stupid, but I was desperate.
The next day, after school I entered the store with a pair of sunglasses on, as if the store clerk was going to kick me out the moment he saw me. I made my way to the old shirts resting on their hangers, and I looked around the room to see if anyone was paying attention to me. My heart was beating so fast that someone standing next to me could hear it. My head was getting light, and my mouth was getting dry. I was shaking uncontrollably and I couldn’t see straight. I looked around to stake out the workers, there were a total of 5 workers today. One young male worker was sitting next to the changing rooms reading a magazine, two female workers were chatting up a storm one was older than the other. Another male worker was walking around pretending to do something, and the same old man from the other day was at the cash register, watching the people in the store like a vulture as they browsed the store.
I had my whole scheme planned out. Just a quick diversion so that I can grab the doll and run. It was the first time that I was trying to resort to stealing, but it was also the first time I was denied buying one. So after standing in the same spot for what felt like half an hour, I grabbed the top of the rack of shirts, closed my eyes tightly, and pushed.
What I didn’t see was a woman on the other side of the racks carrying an old crystal vase. The rack took her down with it along with the vase, which shattered into a million pieces in front of the working who was sitting in front of the changing rooms. Some pieces of the vase flew up into his face. He jumped up into a shelf that was above him with a loud thud. I hope he didn’t get a concussion. As quickly as it happened, the two female workers rushed to get the rack off of the poor woman, and the worker who was previously roaming the store ran to his fellow worker who was now on the floor, not moving. What did I do?
I ran to the front of the store and grabbed the doll. I was in front of the door when I heard the old man yell from the other side of the room, “Don’t you dare take that doll! You won’t be able to handle it!” I looked down at the doll, who was returning it’s glare back at me with it’s beautiful blue eyes looking back at mine. I looked at the store clerk and angrily said, “F you” and then I left.
I did it! I wrecked a store in the process, but I managed to get the doll! And the store clerk’s face was priceless! I’ve never done anything this wild before! I quickly walked home so that if any police was hot in pursuit for me. After all, I may have seriously injured two people.
I made it home without being caught, and I quickly ran to my room. I heard my mom call my name but I ignored her. I slammed the door behind me and looked down at my new doll, my new baby. I cradled it carefully in my arms. Most people think that high schoolers should have different interests, like what’s happening on facebook, or where the coolest party is going to be, or the latest tweet. But I don’t need any of that. I have friends, but they don’t know about my dolls. I have twenty five different dolls, now twenty six. Each one with their own styles, their own personalities. I don’t see them as toys, I see them as small petrified people. They’re always there to listen to you, and they’re very understanding. They are the bestest friends I could ever need.
And like that everything changed, I started bleeding heavily from my neck. I dropped the doll and applied pressure to the wound. I tripped on the edge of my bed and sat there, panicking. I started choking on my blood. I didn’t know what was happening. I slid off my bed and put my back against my bed. Everything was fading to black. Then I saw something move in the corner of my eye. I don’t know if it was from the lack of blood, but I saw the doll get up. It smoothed her dress, and wiped her blood covered lips. She stared at me with a pitiful look in her eyes. She looked my room with disgust as I sat on the floor bleeding out. She slowly made her way to my window, and with all her strength lugged it open. She looked back at me over her shoulder, and scoffed. She climbed out and like that I was alone.
My parents didn’t find my body for another two hours after I had died. My story in the newspaper and was titled “The Doll House Keeper”. I had died at the age of sixteen, surrounded by my best friends.
