By: Claire Li

As a typical 6-year-old, I LOVED dolls. Nonetheless, my parents never had the money to buy me the doll collection of my dreams or even a single doll. Scraping for pennies, my parents worked two jobs each. Our family barely survived every day in a tiny apartment. However, even if we didn’t have much money, my parents still spent valuable time with me, and that was all I needed.

On my birthday, I was overjoyed to see that my parents saved the money for me to buy the doll of my dreams: the Totally Hair Barbie. The Totally Hair Barbie, as suggested by its name, had a big head of long, blonde curls and a colorful dress. Walking, no, SKIPPING to the doll store, I couldn’t help but feel ebullient. Arriving at the rustic styled doll store, I looked around. There were all types of dolls from so many different brands.

Heading to a dark and dusty corner, I saw many dolls that were extremely dusty and filled with cobwebs. Soon, one of them started moving. I jumped back in surprise, looking at the dark tangled hair of the doll that was mixed with gray dust. The colors of the doll were slowly fading away, her purple dress taped, and both her hands were missing quite a few fingers.

“Hello dear, looking for something?” asked the old doll.

“No, not quite. How long have you been made?” I asked curiously.

“More than a century. I’ve traveled to so many places and had so many names. I have learned so many things. Of course, that was when I was young. When my lips were still tomato red. When I was brand new.

I’ve been destroyed and sewn back together so many times, I lost track of how many times. I’ve sat in this exact store for over 10 years, watching dolls get sold left and right,” said the dusty doll.

“A century? TEN YEARS? Don’t you ever get tired of not being bought?” I exclaimed.

“Well, I’ve learned to appreciate what I have over time. However, sometimes, I do feel a little bit tired, seeing barbies being bought every second and cherished for life. But, that’s the way life is. I hear the calming wind, and it relaxes me. I do wish I could be young again, being fought over by young girls trying to buy me. It was quite a nice time, when I was wanted,” the old doll rambled.

I felt bad for the ignored doll. Looking at the barbie section, most of it was sold out, and the remaining dolls were being fought over by ruthless girls. Walking over to the barbie section, I saw one remaining Totally Hair Barbie, looking absolutely gorgeous in its colorful dress.

“Pick me! I’m a stylish, sassy queen!” the barbie said.

The older, dark-haired doll nodded at me, as if saying ‘don’t worry about me, go buy your dream doll’. I picked up the Totally Hair Barbie again. I put it down.

My mom tapped her nails impatiently. “Please, honey, get your doll, I’m late for my job,” she said, “And why do you keep talking to the doll? Or are you talking to yourself?”

“I’m talking to myself,” I lied.

I took a beeline for the old doll and happily paid for it. And I hung out with the doll day and night. I took care of her and fixed her. I named her “Sophie”. Sophie talked to me often. My parents bought a desk for me when I grew up. And Sophie the doll always sat on the right side of my desk as if to comfort me.

Whenever my parents came into my room, they always thought I was talking to myself, since only children can talk to dolls. However, it’s the children’s secret, so I always told them I was talking to myself.

Sophie talked about the stories of her life, and I listened. Even at midnight.

“She’s talking to herself again,” my mom whispered outside of my bedroom door, listening to me talk to the doll, except she could only hear my side.

“Probably sleep talking,” my dad replied.

Image Credit by Ivan Chacon