Little Rose and the Ragdoll.

                There once was a child: a small girl, no greater than the age of 5. She was darling, a beauty. Pristine, pale blue eyes, and the most dazzling strawberry blond hair, which she wore everyday in pigtails.  She loved beautiful spring dresses: plaid blue and white; white with little flowers; floral patterns with pink and purple and blue and green and red of every shade.

She did not say much. Silent, in fact. No one could get her to utter a sound, poor dear. But she got along fine, and every passer by would tip their hat to the darling little girl.

She held, in her two skinny arms, a small rag doll with a likeness very similar to her own. The doll, however, had very dark black bead eyes. The doll’s dress would change accordingly, each day to match hers.

“Rose! My darling Rosaline!” called the Mother, one morning. The girl sat up, promptly, still clasping her precious doll tight in her arms. Her nightgown was long, and she tripped as she clambered out of bed, the doll nearly leaving the girl’s grasp. She gasped, what would have been a scream had she had the vocal capability. She caught the doll just in the nick of time. That was close, she thought.

She ran, speedily on her two small legs. She stopped at the Mother’s side, looking up innocently, the doll covering the full bottom half of her face.

“Rose, dear, it’s breakfast time! Would you go to the baker’s to fetch us the morning bread? Here, this is 2 pence. Now come back as quickly as you can, so we can get some food in that pretty little tummy.” She gave the girl a kiss on the forehead, and nudged her on her way.

The girl gave a hint of a smile and nodded. She liked to go outside on her own. She and her doll, Lily, would play fun games in the street on the way to market. The girl took the money and rushed out the door, nightgown and all.

It was a beautiful day outside, and the city streets were sparkling from the glitter of the spring sun. Flowers were blooming, grass was green as emeralds, and air smelled like the season, everything blossoming and rosy. As the girl walked into town, she could smell the fresh bread from the bakery, the freshly brewed coffee from the café, the meat in the meat shop. This is wonderful! she thought. I can’t wait to show Lily the baker!

But when the girl walked into the bakery, the cheery old baker was not behind the counter. There was a sign on the cash register that said, “Be Back in 5 Minutes.” That’s odd, thought the girl, John the Baker is always here. But that’s okay, I can wait.

“Let’s go behind the counter.”

I can’t, thought the girl. What would we find behind the counter anyway? The baker is not here, we must wait to get our bread.

“But mummy wanted us home as soon as we could! We mustn’t keep her waiting. Let’s just go get the bread ourselves.”

The girl pondered. I guess you’re right, she thought, looking down at the doll’s yarn-filled head. Just a quick peek couldn’t hurt.

The girl took a quick look around, observing the glass displays of pastries and treats, looking past the counter at the shelves of bread. They were all up so high, she’d have to find a step stool or a ladder… Mother never allowed her on ladders, because she could fall and get hurt.

“Don’t worry, it will be fine! There is a stepstool, just there. We can climb on to the counter, and grab the bread. In fact, while we’re at it, let’s take two. Two loaves of bread is better than one.”

That’s greedy! the girl thought angrily.

“Tsk tsk, it’s just going to go in someone else’s tummy anyway! Might as well go in to ours! Now get on the counter, Rose.”

The girl sighed, her eyes widening with nerves as she looked at the chair behind the counter. She climbing, focusing her eyes intently on the step stool and where her hands and feet were climbing. She climbed and climbed. As she climbed, the steps just kept coming. Up and up and up, until finally she thought, How can I still be climbing? I must be near the ceiling!

She decided to face her fear, and look down. As she did, she nearly lost her balance. The ceiling! She had far surpassed the ceiling! In fact she was no longer in the bakery at all!

I’m so scared! she thought. Lily, what do I do! Why have I climbed so high?

“Don’t be scared, Rose. I did not tell you before, but this is the way to my house. Where I live, it’s just beyond the baker’s house. I didn’t want to scare you before, but I want you to see my home. If you take just one more step, you can get off the ladder. We are almost there.” Rose looked at her dolly. The black bead eyes had changed, and turned to a brilliant yellow color.

But I’m scared, Lily. Why did you lie to me?

“Do not worry, dear child. We are the very best of friends, aren’t we? Trust me and you can see where I live.”

Rose took a deep breath, and began to climb again. As the doll had said, she only needed to take one more step and she was in another room. There was a flat landing that she stepped on to. As soon as she did, the step ladder was gone and the baker’s far, far away.

Rose took a look around. It appeared she was in a house. The floors were wooden, a light oak color. But the room was huge, it must have been ten times as big as her own room! And it was empty. Nothing in the room but one single chair, one with a wooden frame and wicker woven seat. The walls were painted a pale pink color, the color of pink rose pedals.

“You did it Rose! We are at my house. This is my room. Isn’t it lovely?” the doll spoke.

Rose was confused. This is your room? she thought. But it’s so empty! Where is your bed? And your blankets? Where is your window? Where are your books and your toys?

“I don’t need any of those things. All I need is a nice chair to sit in. I just sit and look pretty, and people come visit me and love me.” Rose looked at her doll again. The sewn mouth had somehow stitched itself into a smile, and the eyes had changed again, to a mellow orange. “Don’t you want to sit down? Sit, and look pretty?”

Maybe I should let you sit in your chair, Rose thought to the doll. You can be home, and see you mum, and I will find the step stool and go home. My mum is waiting for the bread, and she must be worried by now!

“Please come sit with me, Rose. Just for a little bit. Please join me?”

Rose looked around, worried. She took a glance behind her, hoping to see the step ladder she had used to climb up to the room… alas, it was still disappeared into the floorboards. So she followed the directions of the doll. After all, she was already here. What else could she do?

Rose walked over to the chair. As she walked closer, the chair appeared bigger and bigger. So big, in fact, that when she finally reached it, the seat was just above her head. She looked up. She decided to reach up and put the doll up first, because it would be easier to climb up with her hands free. But as she reached up her hands she realized something terrifying. The doll was no longer in her hand… the doll was her hand. It had somehow been thoroughly stitched into the girl’s skin, just where her hand had been.

Rose gave a silent scream. What’s going on! she thought. Where is my hand?! She began to stomp on the floor, making loud banging sounds with her feet.

“Shhh, Rose, not so loud, or the others will come! You must be quiet, and climb on to the chair! Quickly!”

NO! Rose thought loudly. I’m done listening to you! I just want to go home, I just want my mummy and my bed and I never want to see you again! I just want my hand back!

Rose shook her arm, frustrated and scared. She shook and shook it, stomping her feet all the while.

“Rose, stop stomping!” The doll seemed very concerned now. Her eyes had changed again, this time to a bright fiery red color; her eyebrow stitches were now facing downward in rage. “Be quiet and GET ON THE CHAIR!”

NO! NO I WILL NOT! Rose thought louder and louder, shaking her arm and crying. GET OFF, GET OFF MY ARM!

In this fit of terror, a loud booming sound began to echo in the room. Rose halted. Her heart froze, and she stopped stomping.

The noise grew louder. It sounded like footsteps. Giant footsteps. Or a giant fist pounding on a door.

“Look what you’ve done! I told you to SHUT UP!” cried the doll. “Now they are going to get you! They’re going to get me!”

More tears streamed down Rose’s beautiful rosy cheeks. What would happen now?

Then, all at once, the roof was torn off. The only thing that could be seen above, for a moment, was black. But soon Rose could see again. And as she looked up, she saw it. A large girl. Not just any girl. A large, little girl. It was Rose. Rose, in giant form, wearing the same light pink nightgown and staring down at the Little Rose and the doll.

Little Rose gasped. She put her hands to her mouth. She expected to feel the doll’s cushiony figure next to her hand on her face. But somehow the doll was no longer there. Instead, she felt only fabric. She was no longer holding the doll, yet both of her hands were gone. Instead, they had been replaced with doll hands: peach colored fabric, fingerless, and stuffed. Her mouth was no longer the same either. Instead of her normal rosy lips, she could only feel stitches. A thin black line where her mouth should be. She tried to feel her hair, her beautiful pigtailed hair… but all she felt was yarn. Orange colored yarn. She tried to scream, she wanted to know what was happening, but her mouth was sewn shut. She could do nothing but sit on the floor. Like a ragdoll.

“Mummy! Look what I found!” said a booming voice from above. It was Big Rose. She was speaking! Something Little Rose had never been able to do before. The black around the room had faded, and instead Little Rose could see … part of her own ceiling. She felt a hand grasp her waist and pull her up. Up and up and up, until she saw her whole bedroom. The pink bed in the corner, the pink walls, and sunshine peeking through the white window. She was home, but it all looked bigger.

Little Rose tried again to call for help, but as she expected, no noise came out.

“I found a doll, mummy! Can I keep it?”

The Mother entered the room, even bigger than Big Rose, who was still holding Little Rose in her hands.

“I don’t see why not, darling! But don’t forget, Rose, dear, it’s breakfast time! Would you go to the baker’s to fetch us the morning bread? Here, this is 2 pence. Now come back as quickly as you can, so we can get some food in that pretty little tummy.” She gave the girl a kiss on the forehead, and nudged her on her way.

The girl gave a hint of a smile and nodded. She and her doll, who she decided to name Lily, would play fun games in the street on the way to market. The girl took the money and rushed out the door, nightgown and all.