The Troubled Glass Doll

The Story

I'm an old, battered, broken, glass doll. My blonde hair falls over my shoulders in waves. The left side of my face has cracks going all up and down it. My right leg is broken and in shattered pieces on the floor. My unperceivable heart, inside my glass chest, is broken to pieces. I sit on the top of the toy shelf, looking out at darkness. Invisible tears trickle down my bruised and broken face. They left me behind. I mean, who would want such an ugly doll in their possession? Every second of everyday that passes by, my invisible heart breaks more and more; my painted smile sags; my eyes sadden and I wait for the day that I break and I shatter to pieces, completely.

One day, I hear footsteps. A light trickles into the room and a young girl skips in. She looks around the room and giggles. "Mommy, mommy!" she yells in glee. I hear more footsteps and a woman walks in with a smile on her face. Her eyes look sad; her cheeks look wet from tears and yet she still smiles. "What is it, honey?" the little girl jumps up and down and points at the top of the shelf; the toy shelf that I'm sitting on! My invisible heart races, well if only it could race. The mother looks up at the rows and rows of toys. She looks at the very top and reaches up. She picked me up! Oh my gosh! She picked me up! The woman sets me down on the floor and reaches up for another toy. She gives it to the little girl, picks me back up, and walks out of the room.

She walks down a set of stairs and turns a corner. She sets me on the table and walks out. I lay there, looking straight up at the ceiling. There is light pouring into the room as I finally get a glimpse of the stunning daylight. Happiness begins to fill me up and my eyes start to brighten. The woman walks back in with glue in hand. She touches my leg and looks at me. "You are just as broken as we are." She starts to tear up and walks out of the room.

I wonder what she meant when she said, "You are just as broken as we are," what happened to them? If she's going to fix me then I'm going to have another family, right? My heart, my invisible and broken heart, starts to swell with happiness. The mother walks in, whistling, her eyes expressing how she doesn't feel like letting the tears fall anymore. She has the pieces of my shattered leg. She touches my broken leg again and starts to apply the glue. Then she touches up my face, trying to save what beauty there is left.

When she is done, she picks me up and carries me over to the sink. She washes my face, feet, arms off. The water turns gray because I'm covered in dust and dirt. She brushes my hair out. When she's done, I feel brand new. I start to cry, invisible, happy tears. She looks down at me and lifts me up gently. "I wish my husband could see Joy jumping with delight when she sees you." She carries me into another room and sets me on a dresser. She leaves and I am left looking at the ceiling, with all of the beauty from the daylight pouring through the windows, feeling amazed and blessed.

It feels like years before she returns. Joy is following her. The mother talks to the girl and then hands me to her. Joy smiles and hugs her mother. She skips up to the room where I was previously left heartbroken. She sits me in a chair and skips out. I can hear her tiny footsteps as she skips down the stairs. My painted smile begins to repair itself, back to the way it was supposed to be.