I was one of the last of my master’s works. A dainty little thing with long locks and blue eyes. He had high hopes that I would finally lead him out of his block and into creating the perfect piece, but those hopes were soon shattered. While I was beautiful and carefully crafted, I was no better than the average porcelain doll. Nothing about me was enough to win praise which meant soon I lost my master’s as well. Any dream I had of becoming a coveted masterpiece of a doll was shattered the day I was sold to an ordinary little girl with big, doey eyes.

She became my new and constant companion, taking me to whichever place and doing whatever struck her fancy. She was an unkempt and clumsy little girl and hardly a day passed where I wasn’t covered in scratches or stains. I abhorred her negligence and dreamt that an elegant little girl would come along and rescue me from my unjust fate. Days passed to weeks and eventually became years until my untidy companion was an old woman and she gave me as a birthday present to her daughter, Abbie. Abbie was as stylish as her mother was messy. She would spend hours preening in the mirror and brushing her chestnut brown hair. I would become envious at these times wishing I had the ability to braid my golden locks and try on different dresses until I decided which was best.

It was when Abbie entered her teen years that my luck finally began to change. My master had gained popularity after his passing which left collectors and rich patrons in a hurry to purchase his works before they were off the market. Abbie, the frivolous traitor, decided to put me up for sale in order to get a new dress. Not that I minded. While Abbie had never gotten me dirty unlike her oaf of a mother, she had never played with me either. I was bought for a hefty sum and presented as one of two porcelain dolls to a pair of twin girls. I observed them closely at our first meeting and was quite delighted with what I saw. They were both very prim and proper with all the grace and elegance a doll could hope for in a mistress. I glanced over at the doll sitting next to me and was riddled by her cold demeanor. She looked quite old and worn maybe created during the last century. Unable to hold in my curiousity I chided her behavior and was rewarded with a smirk.

“You’re still young. Eventually you’ll see”. I was filled with irritation at her words. She had no idea what she was talking about. She had probably never been with a horrid, dirty little girl like I had and was pompously complaining out of sheer boredom. I was picked up by the younger of the twins who twirled me around in circles laughing. At that moment I wished I had a mouth so that I could share in with her laughter and tell her the gladness I felt to finally be owned by a worthy companion. I was still giddy by the time the party ended and everyone had left for bed. Filled with expectation, I waited for morning when I would be played with the way dolls are supposed to. That morning never came.

Days and days I would watch from a glass case as the twin girls played with their other toys waiting and waiting for my turn. Soon I became dejected. I couldn't figure out what the problem was. Was it because I was ordinary. Were they disappointed in me as my master had been? I sought answers and finally dropped my pride to ask the old, worn doll for advice. She told me it was the fate of all dolls in this new era when little girls would rather play with rectangular screens than with a fragile doll. If I had the ability to move I would have struck her. Her harsh words whittled away my hopes making me wish for a voice so someone could hear my screams. The screams of a forgotten little girl who’ll never age but will be stuck forever an observer in a world of humans and dreams. I rotted away in the case for decades before finally being thrown away and landing in a garbage heap. The dirt and clutter remind me of the distant past with my old, clumsy companion and her crude, messy games of running around outside. For the first time I wish I could cry not for myself but for that clumsy, foolish little girl who gave all her love to a lifeless doll that never loved her back. A shadow appeared blocking the sun and a little brown puppy towered above me, grabbing me between his teeth. He bolted down the path all while holding me in his slobbery, wet mouth. So this was how it was going to end. I had spent my life mocking a little girl for being dirty, and here I was now about to end my existence in the one of the dirtiest ways possible. The dog came to a halt and put me down at the feet of a gravestone. A little girl crouched nearby with a tear-streaked face. I gazed up in a awe at a face I knew I recognized. She picked me up and dusted off the dirt.