Still Doll

[cat.]

Sitting in a room was a girl. The room had no windows to look out of, no source of entertainment but the sound of a radio that played calming music. Not an ordinary girl, of course, but a doll. A doll that was created for whatever purpose. She could move on her free will, like a robot could. However, she wasn't a machine. This girl was a doll that was made into perfection. Every detail could remind anyone of a normal human being, but she was void of human emotions, just designed for perfection.

Alice was her name.

The doll wore a dress that was specifically made for her. A blue dress that had white lace trim with ruffles in certain areas to make the appearance more fitting. White stockings were on her legs, and black shoes were places at her feet. She also had a generic appearance for her face. Blue eyes that were easily noticeable, and blonde hair that framed her face. The epitome of perfection.

There was nothing much to say about her because she did not know anything about herself. All she knew that she was created, but with no idea of what the purpose was. Though she was curious about what was there outside those walls that she has been surrounded by since her creator always left through a door that he always locked when he walked out. Soon she will know what it was like outside of the room that she was trapped in.

For now Alice was sitting in the room on a chair, listening to the classical music that played from the radio. All she did was wait until he came in to look her over like he has normally done, to see if there was anything else that he needed to do. Sometimes he would just sit and talk to her about things that went on through his day while she grew slightly envious at the fact that he was free to do whatever he pleased outside of these walls. One day she will see for herself what it was like out there.

 

[Psychedelic]

Life was very empty. Ever since he could remember, Michael Sherman had been living in a hollow world full of hollow people. He had the odd friend or two, but they hardly made life all that interesting. In truth, the only thing that really gave him any pleasure in his drole life was his work on the china dolls that were his livelihood and only respite from the dullness of everyday living.

He had been working on a commission for some hours now, painting the details of her face with painstaking care. Bent over his desk, concentrating on each feature, Michael couldn't help but realise he was no teenager anymore. Maybe this was just a blip, or maybe it was the beginning of an early descent into the world of the elderly. Maybe that was a little melodramatic, but he could not deny that he had pushed himself too far in recent months, all thanks to that 'project' of his.

The doll had been wonderful to begin with, but she had eaten away at him. Taking on such a sizeable project was foolhardy for anyone, and his obsession with it had not done him any good. Previously luscious brown hair was now speckled with silver, and a once fairly youthful face was now showing some signs of wrinkles and a pallor that definitely couldn't be considered healthy. He had had many sleepless nights over Alice, and would probably continue to do so.

She was never finished. That was the problem. She wouldn't ever be complete, not until she became real. Until that day he would remain as miserable and grumpy as he had always been, or perhaps he would just smash her to pieces and cut his losses. Time would tell, though the man liked to pretend that the future didn't exist. Living in the moment was much safer, or so he had come to believe.

Finally finished with the little doll on his table, it was time to check on 'Alice', as he had dubbed her.

As usual, she sat in her chair, almost like a real human being, but somehow entirely lifeless. It was so unfair! He had done everything right, and it still wasn't enough. Michael wondered if he would ever find the final step to his formula, though as he entered the locked room he did not let on that he felt this way. He only smiled as he sat down, eventually speaking to the doll, "Well, it's been another busy day. I really ought not to take on so much work. It's not as if we need the money. Maybe I should just retire." He mused mostly to himself, rubbing his nose, from which he had just removed a pair of wire-rimmed glasses.

 

[cat.]

The doll sat in the chair, being still as she normally has been. She was focused on the door, and soon the door opened to reveal the man that has created her. If she felt a sense of relief, then she would have at this moment. Sitting alone with no one there made her grow restless. Until she was able to move on her own, which she would have the ability later on perhaps, then she would be stuck where she was until she was moved. One day, she had hoped, that she will actually be able to respond to him.

As she thought, he started talking about his day as he sat down in front of her. Upon hearing his words, she couldn't help to think that he was going through a lot of things. She was incapable of feeling any emotions, so she didn't know how to react. All she did was sit there. One day his words wouldn't go unnoticed and she will be able to talk to him, to perhaps give him the comfort that he needed. From what she gathered was that he was alone, doing his own thing. All she knew was that he made other dolls also, but she was the first project that got him riled up.

He seemed to be a smart man, he will be able to figure out the formula he needed to make her be able to speak and move. All he needed to do was research, that was all. Of course she didn't know how, she was just a doll after all with no brain.

 

[Psychedelic]

He spoke for what seemed like hours, though in truth it was little more than fifteen minutes that he rattled on about his day. Even so, for anyone unable to respond and communicate it must have been a droll rambling. Even Michael was partially aware of the fact that he was complaining alot these days, perhaps because he had someone with whom to talk, even if their conversations were abysmally one-sided. Still, the doll was a comfort to him, in as many ways as she was a burden on his already loaded shoulders. He was a misfit, always had been, and this doll of his was his way of creating something that was his and his alone, something that would not reject him, nor be destroyed by those that saw him as the freak that he most likely was.

Eventually, standing from the chair opposite the life sized doll, Michael approached her, dipping down to her presumably unseeing eye level. Callused fingers caressed hair that had been dreadfully hard to source, seeing as not too many people with such good quality blonde locks wanted to donate them to the cause of some random doll maker. In the end he had traipsed round town soliciting people, offering a substantial sum for their cooperation. But, it had been the worth trouble. She was perfect, in the physical sense of the word, she just lacked the soul that was so important.

"One day, Alice." He muttered with a wan smile, considering that perhaps his dream may remain just that. He didn't know what he would do if he could not bring this project to fruition, only that he was more than likely to go completely mad in the process. Well, perhaps it was best not to think about that just yet. There was still time.