3 - I get Thumbelina on my birthday

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Author's note:

Hi there. Remember to vote, comment or glare ( If you really hate me that much) ( please don't hate me)

Anyway, here's another cracker.

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I could hear faint murmurs from inside the box, I'd noticed them for quite a while - I'd just been ignoring them. The muffled sounds got louder as I unwrapped it. When I opened the box, I could finally make out what the doll was muttering. A little female action figure with a bow and a bunch of arrows was flinging curses at the inner walls of the box. Thumbelina finally noticed me and managed a mini glare. "What are you staring at, you moron? Get me out of here!"

It felt like a hamster was pulling a real angry face and calling me a moron. Bizarre and comic at the same time.

I regarded it for a while and gave the little thing one of my killer smiles and lifted her out of the box. "The name's Anthony. Not moron." Feeling a little Jack Sparrow, I tipped my head a little bit towards her.  "How would you like it if I called you an arrow welding midget?"

"You...you can hear me talk?" Thumbelina spluttered. I have heard this line before, they always say this.

"I... this hasn't happened before", she said. Ah, how cute.

"You won't believe how many times this has happened to me. Which spot would you like to be placed at? Next to the Ben Ten action figure or between the care bears ?"

The little thing looked up fiercely aiming an arrow at me.  "You can't put me in a shelf! I can talk." And so can the rest.

"Great argument .I'll put you in between care bears. You'll look ironic next to them."

An arrow sailed towards me in reply.

"Put. Me. Down. " Of all the toys that Uncle Ben and Aunt Claire had given me, this was the only one , other than Trac, that didn't say creepy things. Like, the Pinocchio marionette keeps saying '' I was once a little boy. Let me out, let me out. I want to go home', the care bears respectively repeat things like "I got lost in the funfair" and "I want my mommy" and the Aladdin figurine keeps muttering in a language that sounds really scary. (Every. One. Of. His. Words. Sound. Like launched missiles.)

Next to them Thumbelina wasn't so bad. I put her down on my bedside table.

"Fine."

"That's it?"

"Just don't talk about how you were once a little girl or annoy me with creepy stories."

Thumbelina seemed to be taken aback for a moment.

"I wasn't a little girl..." she went on cautiously "but I was human once, about two year ago."

"Sure you were."

"You don't believe me"

It had been long day of fake smiles, hair appointments, and bizarre conversations.

"Good night midget, goodnight Trac." I take off my blue vest and hang it up next to my tux. 

"Where am I supposed to sleep?"

"Go ask the teddy bear over there, he's a really nice guy." 

"Anthony! Get up, or I'll shoot arrows at you!"

"Yeah, I'm real scared of blunt plastic arrows half the size of my pinkie hitting me." I shot back turning away from her. A plain brown robe in hand I walk behind into my attached bathroom to change.

"Now, is that any way to treat a lady?" Trac, who'd been silent all this time, spoke up.

Sighing, I turned to the little thing, "Can you even sleep? How can you even process emotions and thoughts without a brain. You have no brain, sleep is something you are neurologically incapable of. Oh wait, here's a simpler thought; aren't your eyes supposed to be painted on? Can you even-"

"Anthony, how about you show her to the dollhouse and we can all rest in peace?" Trac interrupted.

After showing Thumbelina the doll house's bed, I promptly went to mine. I was going to have to wake up before five tomorrow morning to train for the cross-country race after the school holidays. Between fitness trainings, basketball games, karate lessons and tuition I could use all the sleep I could get.

I was up before the sun the next morning, running along the 2 km long track for the fourth time. I was at the stadium near my house. My trainer, Mr Clark, periodically looked up and said shouted out something encouraging. I ran a little faster and began to mentally plan today's schedule. After breakfast at six thirty, I had additional maths tuition, at nine I had to edit my parent's proposals and e-mails, then I would have about three hours of free time, followed by karate practice at two for my next brown belt, at five-thirty I'd have to self study, at seven I'd have to make a brief appearance at an actual party to appear sociable, (as per mom's instructions & my date's)(the last time I forgot to go to a date the girl dumped me, I mean, really? That was just our first date - which means it was the first time I was late. Seesh) more self-study until ten o' clock. This is a typical 'school holiday' for me.

At this rate I'll be seeing my first white hair when I turn eighteen and start balding when I'm in my twenties. Thank god I'm good-looking. I was mournfully imagining what I would look like without my wavy brown hair and looks of distaste girls would be giving me when my trainer's enthusiastic voice interrupted my thoughts.

"Anthony, you can stop now. That was record timing for you " he said, shoving the timer in my face.  "Maybe I won't be fired." He added in a quieter voice.

Dad probably had a little talk with him. Last year I came in second. Dad got so worked up that... well ...Mr Clark shed more than just a few tears. Where did he get this pansy from?

I smiled at Mr Clark and patted him on his shoulder before I left the stadium. Poor guy, I convinced Dad not to fire him last year. I could do it again. 

Probably.

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