The Doll Girl [discontinued and horribly cringey]

Chapter One: What Mildred Saw

The sun had flooded over the roofs of the buildings outside and into a small bedroom on the third floor hours ago. An alarm clock blared, but the occupant of the small twin bed hardly noticed.

Brook was reading, so avidly, that she failed to realise that her mother was yelling, her alarm was going off at the loudest setting and her father was repeatedly knocking on her bedroom door.

At last, she woke from her reverie and remembered her worldly responsibilities. Brook jumped off her bed and yanked open her door.

"Sorry, sorry, Dad, so sorry, Mom. I am so, so, sorry but I just FORGOT." Brook was compelled to apologise to her parents. Even if she wasn't being completely sincere, she was being polite and to Brook, that was what mattered.

"The garbage truck's already come so we'll just have to cope with a smelly house. Unless you'll move the trash into the garage, Brook," announced Brook's father.

"Okay, okay, I will," muttered Brook, determined that she do something right for once.

~~~~~~

As she pulled the garbage bags into the garage, Brook heard an eager-sounding yell. "Hey, doll girl!"

Brook groaned inwardly for two reasons.

1, it was Alice, an annoying 11-year-old who insisted on being Brook's "bestie".

2, Alice was calling her "doll girl", which was Brook's despised nickname.

"Doll girl" actually wasn't such a bad thing to be called, unless you looked exactly like what the name implied. Brook looked very much like a doll and she hated "doll girl" because it made her seem unusual and creepy-looking. Most of all it made people imagine Brook as a small, plastic figure. Which she definitely wasn't.

Brook was a 13-year-old who appreciated fantasy books, music, and good food. She had a group of close friends and a bunch of people whom she talked to but didn't really confide in or trust. She hated school, except for art period. In other words, Brook was normal.

Alice was waiting. She eagerly craned her head to look into the eyes of her "bestie".

"Some other time, Alice. Gotta run. Work to do!" She tossed over her shoulder before trotting back inside the security of her home.

"Brook," called Mrs. Willow from the kitchen, "Madeline phoned. She said something about a project..?"

"'Kay, Mom. I'm gonna go over to her place. We DO have a project together even if it isn't due till Thursday. I'll be back by eleven. Bye!"

~~~~~~~

"Hi, doll girl. I'm gonna be busy for the rest of the week so I figured we could do dat project now. Huh? What about that?"asked Madeline Jamison.

Brook sighed resignedly and mentally cursed her science teacher for partnering her with Madeline, who talked in a strange way and on the inside was even weirder.

"Whatever. Let's just get on with it, okay?"

"Sure, girly. How 'bout some foodsies, huh, doll girl? Huh?"offered Madeline, in her own way of speaking.

"Nah, I'm good," said Brook through clenched teeth. "Anyways, your part of the project was the actual crystals. Did you start on it yet?"

"Oh, no. Course I didn't. But since I'm gonna be real busy I just thought you could do it for me, cause I'm gon be-"

"Real busy, yeah, I know!" yelled Brook.

Madeline looked exceedingly pleased, for some reason. "So you'll do it for me? Huh, guurl, huh?"

Brook replied, "Of course I WON'T. It's your part and I've already got the presentation to worry about! You told Mr. Garcia you'd do the crystals. I said I was okay with the presentation. So why would I do your part?"

"Well, I just thought that you're a good friend and all but I guess I was wrong. I guess I'll just do all the crystals by myself. Bye, Brooklyn." retorted Madeline. Her brown curls bounced around as she tossed her head carelessly. Her dark eyes were narrowed and she panted heavily as if she had been fighting with an unreasonable person for a very long time.

As she was escorted to the door, Brook couldn't help but feel angry. She had only refused to cheat by doing Madeline's work. And look where that had gotten her- kicked out of the house and into the storm brewing outside.

Outside, the trees waved wildly. The wind whipped around the rust-coloured late autumn leaves, and they whirled, dancing over the neat lawns of Madeline's street. Brook pulled her blue-and-bronze Ravenclaw scarf tighter around the smooth, white skin of her neck. The wind whistled in her ears, louder and louder, until the shrill sound was too much to bear. And Brook gave in to it.

~~~~~~~~

Mrs. Willow hummed happily. The macaroons baking were satisfactory and would be ready just in time for the ladies from the Book Club. But there was nothing for them to drink. "I'll tell Brook to run to the store and pick up some iced tea," she thought.

"Brook! Come here!" She called.

There was no answer.

Marilyn started for the steps.

"Brook! I said come he-" Marilyn Willow stopped in her tracks as she remembered her daughter's assignment. Of course! Brook was at her friend's house. She would be back by eleven.

Marilyn frowned at the clock. 11:37. Well, Brook might just be having a good time with her friend Madeline. But something told Mrs. Willow that Brook should have been back by now.

Iced tea long forgotten, Marilyn dialled the Jamisons' number.

~~~~~~~

After a couple moments of loud ringing, Madeline picked up the phone. It was Brooklyn Willow's mom.

"Hello...yeah...she left almost an hour ago...er, yeah we finished it quickly...no, I saw her leave and she didn't come back.... Okay, bye."

~~~~~~~

The ladies of the Book Club were just arriving, some stepping out from their automobiles, a group of them on foot, walking from the nearest bus stop.

"Mildred isn't here yet. Let's wait here for her. I hope she won't be long, " said a tall brunette while swinging around a flashy, expensive bright red purse.

Mildred arrived soon enough. As she shut the door of her Mercedes-Benz with trembling hands, a friend called out to her, "Hello, Mildred!"

Mildred didn't reply. Her face was white and she looked as if she had seen a ghost.

"Girls! You won't believe it. I just saw a body lying on the road like it was dead. It was in my way so I went around it. I looked out my window and saw it was a girl in her early teens. The girl was still alive. But when I saw its- her- face..."

Here Mildred's companions sucked in deep breaths, leaned in excitedly, and listened raptly as Mildred continued her tale in hushed tones.

"I swear, she was just like Marilyn's own little girl."