Dolls

In a crumbling world only the rich and the beautiful survive. Oh and the Dolls, they do pretty well too.

You are stuck at a crossroad in your life. Do you stay or do you go. Its not a rare decision, for you or for other people. Like many times before you want to leave but something is holding you back. Right, the promise of food, water clean clothes, and a roof over your head. You have experienced how hard it is to find such things in a world gone sour. But you should start at the beginning right?

When you were ten you were cruelly thrown from your life of ease. At the time you were overjoyed. Your parents had been overprotective of you, as if the slightest scratch or blemish would ruin your life. Now that you're older you see that it is true. In this dark world only the rich and the beautiful can even think about living a decent life. Your family of three was neither rich or poor. There was always food on the table and a roof over your head. In the year that followed your parent's deaths you often went without food. It was the way you had to live, begging on the streets.

Just after you turned eleven is when you were introduced to the idea of Dolls. Rich men and women would buy pretty faced boys and girls and tote them around, showing them off like dolls. At the time you had thought such a thing was incredibly stupid. You had never imagined how much it would rule your life. As a starving eleven year old you were willing to do almost anything to get food into your stomach. You were eleven and a half when you first inquired about becoming a Doll. Looking back now you regret the decision but there was no other way around starvation. By the ripe age of thirteen you were officially a Doll up for sale.

Your first 'owner' was a tall, dark-haired man. He had a closet the size of a normal bedroom full of clothes that he would dress you up in. Often he would stroke your face, as a father would his child, and whisper sweet things to you. You were with him for two years. Eventually he got bored with you and sent you on your way.

Your second 'owner' was also a man. Short and plump, you could tell that he was a very rich man, for nobody could afford to be fat anymore. He would dress you up in dresses that were more frills and lace then anything else. Complicated dresses with more layers than you cared to think about. He would also stroke your face, your hair, your arms, and whisper loving things to you. At the age of fifteen you were still horribly naive. You stayed with him for five years.

At age twenty you still looked like a child. Short for your age you often lied to get people to 'buy' you.

Your next owner was the only female to buy you yet. She treated you like her child, doting on you, always asking what she could buy to make you happy. She irritated you more than you thought was possible. You only stayed with her for three months.

Now the tricky part comes, probably one of your least favorite parts of your life. At around twenty and a half you were 'bought' by a man named Mr. Grendetti. The man you currently live with. In the beginning, everything had been fine. He would dress you up in long flowing gowns and take you to fancy parties, not a rare thing for an 'owner' to do. Instead of keeping you only as a Doll, he taught you many things, how to read, how to write. Your favorite was when he taught you how to play piano. He was truly a nice man. After the first year with him you started to notice a change. He no longer treated you like a Doll. It was incredibly unnerving. He took you to more fancy events, dressing you in more and more elaborate and expensive dresses. He was also the first person to ask you your name. Sehren, you had said, fidgeting nervously. When he said it back you had been entranced by the way he rolled it off his tongue. From then on he always addressed you by your name. The second year passed into the third. Often he would ask you to walk with him in the park. Dressed in a light sundress you would walk alongside him. Often he would reach out and grab your hand. When you asked why he did it he merely said "For the sake of doing it." and you were not about to protest. Whenever he held your hand, you felt a warmth in your heart, like somehow everything was right with the world, even though it crumbled about your feet. Had you lived a normal childhood you might have recognized the fact that you were slowly falling in love with him. Slightly after your twenty-fourth birthday was the first time he kissed you. It had been sweet and slow, enough to get your heart pumping furiously. Shortly after that you got to pick what you wore and where you went. Gone were the frilly dresses and floor length gowns. Though you had been born a boy, your years as a Doll had certainly made you think otherwise. That year had been the first time you stepped into a pair of pants since you were ten. Which brings you to the fifth year, and the current one. The one where you realize that you are head over heels in love with your 'owner'.