Tuesday, December 22, 2015

Celeste's Story (Celestial Collection Evening Star Princess Barbie)

 
If there's any major difference between playline dolls and collector dolls, it's this. The purpose of a playline doll is to be played with and handled, while the purpose of a collector doll is to be looked at and admired. I was designed as a collector doll. When I was given as a gift to a little girl, she was warned to be careful with me. I was placed on a shelf and my new owner was told not to touch me. For a while she did as she'd been told, and I stayed on the shelf. I passed the time by observing the various goings on in the room. There were a number of other dolls who lived there, along with stuffed animals and various other sentient toys. I didn't socialize much with them. I wasn't sure if I could safely get down from my shelf, and even if I could there was no guarantee that I'd be able to get back up again. It was safer to stay where I was. Besides, at the time it didn't occur to me that I had a choice in the matter. I was a collector doll, and I assumed that this was simply my lot in life. But I watched the others, living out their lives below me. I watched, I listened, and I remembered.
 
As it turned out, I was too great a temptation for my young owner. When her willpower failed, she took me down from the shelf. Her plan was to put me back on the shelf when she was done playing. It worked, the first several times she tried it. She played with me, then she put me back on the shelf with her mother none the wiser. That is, until the day her mother came in and saw a hole in my dress. In my owner's defense, the material was ridiculously fragile. But then I'd been designed as an adult collectable. I was never intended to be played with.
 
Regardless, my little owner received a harsh scolding. She was told that not only had she disobeyed her mother, she had also ruined an expensive doll. My owner's mother seemed so angry that even I believed her when she said I was ruined. But by then it was too late to do anything about it. So afterwards, my owner and her mother treated me like the rest of my owner's dolls. I never went back on the shelf. I was played with instead of just looked at. My braids were taken out and my veil disappeared. And whenever the mother decided to tidy up her daughter's room, she handled me just as roughly as the others, grumbling all the while about how her daughter hadn't learned to clean up after herself.
 
Even though I was among other dolls now, it was still difficult for me to socialize. Not only was I inexperienced in that area, but I was also self-conscious about my appearance. When she first received me, my owner had said I was beautiful. But now that I was 'ruined', now that I was in 'played-with' condition, I just couldn't believe that I was STILL beautiful. It didn't occur to me that we were ALL in 'played-with' condition, and that it was nothing to be ashamed of. I was designed as a collector doll, and I was still in that 'collector doll' mindset. So I avoided the others. I ducked out of sight whenever I saw anyone coming. But I overheard enough of their conversations to know that they thought I was stuck up. They believed I wouldn't socialize with them because I thought, as a collector doll, that I was too good for them. As a result, they began treating me rather coldly. I wasn't sure how to correct their assumptions, so I retreated to my old habits of living my life on the outside looking in. I watched, I listened, and I remembered. I watched other dolls make friends and fall in love. I listened when they fought, and when they made up again. I ended up knowing these dolls inside and out: their flaws, their strengths, their hopes and dreams. But I never let on that I knew.
 
If I had known what I had to look forward to, then being donated to the thrift store when my owner became 'too old for dolls' might have come as a relief. But as it was I had no idea where I was going or what would happen to me, and I was terrified. I was still terrified when Treesa bought me and brought me home with her. I didn't know what to expect. Meeting Treesa's other dolls was a stressful experience. It's a large collection, and it seemed that everyone wanted to meet me. I know now that there's always a lot of curiosity when a new doll arrives. But at the time it felt like they were singling me out. I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't keep any of their names or faces straight.
 
I tried to be polite to everyone, but I couldn't seem to break the habit of keeping to myself. And I still spent too much of my time just watching, listening, and remembering. Then one day I was looking for somewhere I could be alone. I located a likely, out of the way place, but when I got there I discovered that it was already occupied by a female doll with blue hair. She didn't notice me at first. She seemed to be watching something on the other side of the room. I followed her gaze and saw a male doll in a fairy prince costume. Curious, I turned back to the blue-haired doll. That's when I noticed the look in her eyes. I'd seen that look before, in the eyes of other dolls. It was the kind of wistful look a doll gets when they're waiting for the object of their affection to notice them.
 
That look has always tugged at my heart. There had been times at my old home when I'd seen that look and been tempted to offer encouragement. But considering the opinion those dolls had had of me, I doubt that anything I said would have been well received. In the past, I would've just walked away. But somehow, I couldn't. I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe this time, I could help. Judging from what I'd overheard, the dolls that lived here hadn't yet formed an opinion of me, one way or the other.
 
I took a few steps closer to the blue-haired doll, just close enough that I could talk to her without anyone overhearing us. She didn't turn her head, but I was sure that she knew I was there. "He might notice you more quickly if you went over and said hello," I said.
 
Apparently I must have been wrong in thinking she knew I was there, because she let out a surprised squeak and spun around to face me. "Celeste, you scared the pants off me!" she said. I quickly apologized. "I'm sorry," I said. "I thought you knew I was there." The blue-haired doll still looked flustered, but her embarrassment was quickly being replaced by something else. "This a hobby of yours, sneaking up on people?" she asked. I tried my best to explain. "I was looking for someplace quiet," I said. "I didn't know this space was occupied. When I saw you here, you looked so sad..." I trailed off, realizing that I didn't have an acceptable explanation for why I'd decided to get involved in something that was none of my business. "I'm sorry; I was only trying to help," I said. I was about to apologize again when the blue-haired doll said, "It's ok."
 
I  hadn't expected her to forgive me so quickly. I hadn't expected her to forgive me at all. I didn't know what to say. Before I could respond, the blue-haired doll spoke again. "I guess I could sort of use the help," she said. "It's just, whenever I see Carlos I get so nervous I don't know what to say." Her tone was as wistful as the look in her eyes, and a feeling of sympathy welled up inside me. I knew I wanted to help this doll, if I could. While I didn't have much personal experience with love, I thought I had seen and heard enough about it in my lifetime to at least offer some advice. "Have you tried talking to him?" I asked. The blue-haired doll shook her head. "I can't just walk up to him and start talking," she said. "I'd sound like an idiot. I just know I'd say something stupid."
 
"How do you know unless you try?" I asked. The blue-haired doll looked at me like I'd said something insane. Then, slowly, her expression changed. "I guess you're right," she said. There was a pause before she added, "Thanks Celeste, for caring and all that."
 
"You're welcome," I said. It felt good knowing that I might actually have been of some help. However an awkward silence quickly developed. I wondered if this was a signal that I was supposed to leave. But before I could turn to go, the blue-haired doll asked me, "So, how do you like it here so far?"
 
At first I didn't know how to answer. I worried that it would be impolite to say what I really thought. But in the end I decided it was best to tell the truth. "To be honest it's a little overwhelming," I said. The blue-haired doll nodded. "Yeah, it can get a little crazy around here," she said, "but you'll get used to it."
 
"I hope so," I said without thinking. "I don't know how I'll ever remember everyone's names." I started panicking as soon as the words were out of my mouth. What if the blue-haired doll realized that I couldn't remember HER name? Would she be insulted? Thankfully I never found out. The blue-haired doll said, "Yeah, that part's tough. It's easier if you get to know a few dolls at a time and work your way out from there. Let's start with me. I'm Shade." Then she held out her hand for me to shake. "It's nice to meet you Shade," I said as I shook her hand. "So," Shade said, "you really think I've got a shot with Carlos?"
 
That's when a new feeling hit me, the feeling that I was in over my head. I didn't really know anything about Carlos yet, so how could I say in good conscience that he and Shade were compatible? The answer came to me in a flash of inspiration. "You'll never know if you don't try," I said. "It's not the things we do that we regret the most. It's the things we didn't do." I remembered hearing this somewhere. But I knew even then that I was speaking from experience. I had spent my whole life just watching, listening, and remembering, but not participating. For me, life had become a spectator's sport. The thought flashed through my mind that maybe I'd been given a second chance, now that I was Treesa's doll. Maybe this was my opportunity to change, to make a real life for myself.
 
For a moment I was so lost in my thoughts that I forgot all about Shade. "Celeste, you ok?" she asked. I managed to pull myself back to the real world and said, "I'm alright, just...thinking." Shade didn't look fully convinced. "If you want to talk about it," she said, "I mean, I know it's tough sometimes, adjusting or whatever. Treesa's my second owner too." Shade's words sort of trailed off, as if she wasn't sure what else to say. But I could tell that she genuinely wanted to help me. No doll had ever shown that much concern for me before. It didn't matter to me that we still barely knew each other. Because of her kindness, Shade didn't seem like a stranger to me anymore. She seemed like a friend.
 
I found myself talking to Shade like I had never talked to anyone. I told her about my past life, about watching the world go by from my shelf, and about the uncertainty I felt when I was thrown headfirst without warning into that world. I told her about the cold shoulders I received from my fellow dolls when they thought that I didn't want to associate with them. And I told her about the fear that suddenly gripped me, the fear that the same thing would happen again, that I was already repeating my past mistakes. By the time I was finished I was physically shaking with emotion. Shade was staring at me with a stunned expression on her face. "I didn't know..." she said. Then she did something that I never expected. She hugged me. "Things will be better here, I promise," Shade said. "If you want you can hang out with me and my friends."
 
"Thank you," I said. I was so touched by her generosity that I didn't know what else to say.
 
Shade was as good as her word. She introduced me to her friends Dandelion and Rampion, and to her brother Orlando. Dandelion and Rampion are a lot like Shade herself, vibrant and full of life. Orlando on the other hand seems a bit shy and quiet. But it's obvious he cares for his little sister a great deal and wants her to be happy.
 
My life has definitely taken a turn for the better. I haven't become a social butterfly by any means, but I'm slowly learning how to do more than just watch, listen, and remember. I'm reminded of a movie that Treesa likes that tells the story of Cinderella. A character in the film says that the problem with most people is that they dream about what they want to do instead of really doing it. For so long I've tried to be content just imagining what it would be like to have friends and to live life. Now, thanks to Shade, I'm going to try to really do it.
 
Anything's Possible, Celeste


No comments:

Post a Comment