Happy Geek Pride Day, friends and visitors! This is Treesa. I'm happy to report that the weather cooperated enough earlier this week for me to take some dolls outdoors for a special Geek Pride Day photo shoot. Scully and Mulder are from the Barbie and Ken X-Files Giftset, and K9 was originally a Doctor Who Christmas tree ornament from a store called Five Below. Hope you enjoy.
(Agent Fox Mulder and Agent Dana Scully travel deep into the Pennsylvania woods, investigating reports of an unexplained flashing light accompanied by a strange 'vworp'ing sound.)
(Little do they know that they are being observed by K9, loyal companion to the Gallifreyan time traveler known only as...The Doctor.)
(Note From Treesa: Sorry, that's all I've got. I didn't have a doll who could've pulled off playing The Doctor. Costuming would've been a problem too.)
Hope is a powerful thing. When we're struggling or facing a crisis, hope can keep us going. It's kept me going a long time, even though I know that the more time that passes, the more the odds are stacked against me. Some people might think I need to 'face reality' and 'accept' what's happened. Maybe they're right. But I know if I ever lost all hope, I'd be broken inside. So I won't give up hope, hope that someday, I'll see my twin sister again.
My twin sister and I used to belong to two little girls. They were sisters too. They often played with us together, so my sister and I were very close. But those two little girls grew up, and we were put in storage. Then we were donated to a thrift store.
I was happy when my twin sister and I were sealed in the same bag at the store. It meant we would get to stay together, that whoever bought us would get us both. My sister and I talked a lot after the store closed for the night, wondering what our new owner would be like. The next day Treesa came to the store.
Treesa bought us, and brought us home with her. But we didn't seem to hold her interest for very long, and we quickly ended up in storage in the basement. Every now and then Treesa would come down and sort through the boxes. Sometimes dolls were brought upstairs. Sometimes other dolls were brought downstairs and packed away. In all this confusion, my sister and I were separated.
Even though neither of us liked being in storage, it was easier to stay positive when we were together. We would keep each other occupied by talking about the old days, remembering all the fun we'd had together at our first home. I felt lonely without my twin sister, and the more time that passed the more I missed her. There were still other dolls in storage with me for me to talk to, but it wasn't the same as talking with my sister. Because we went through so much together, and because we're twins, I've always felt that my sister knew me better than anyone else ever could.
The next time I saw Treesa, I could tell that she'd changed somehow. She was very quiet as she looked through the box I was in. Normally she would've been singing quietly to herself, or at least humming. And when she picked me up out of the box her hands seemed more gentle, as if she was afraid of hurting me. Not that Treesa was ever rough with her dolls, but I could still feel a difference in the way she held me.
Treesa decided to bring me upstairs that day. My face must've been a little smudged from being in storage, because Treesa cleaned it with a damp towel. Then she found something for me to wear.
The dress is a replica.
After I was dressed, Treesa did something that seemed strange at the time. She looked right into my eyes and said, "I'm sorry."
I didn't understand then why she was apologizing, or why she was even speaking to me at all. But I could hear real emotion in her voice. She sounded ashamed, and there was a look of guilt in her eyes. After Treesa went to bed that night the other dolls in her room cleared up part of the mystery, telling me that Treesa knew we were alive.
The next day I saw with my own eyes, and heard with my own ears, some of the other dolls talking to Treesa. Treesa spoke to me a little, telling me that she'd decided to name me Clara, after the character from the Nutcracker ballet. But I didn't answer her then. This was all still too new to me, both being out of storage and having a human trying to talk with me. But Treesa didn't seem offended, or even surprised, when I didn't answer.
It was a few days before I felt comfortable enough to try talking to Treesa, and I think I might've waited even longer if it weren't for my sister. I still missed her, but more than that I wanted to share all of this with her. I was hoping I could convince Treesa to bring my twin up from the basement. So, after I explained the situation, I asked Treesa if she knew where my twin sister was.
As I was talking, I noticed Treesa's expression changing. At first she just seemed nervous and worried. But after Treesa heard my question I saw the same look of guilt on her face that I'd seen when she'd first brought me upstairs. Treesa then admitted that she didn't know what had happened to my sister. Treesa had realized, without being told, that the doll I'd been bagged with was probably important to me, and she'd been searching the basement for my twin. But Treesa hadn't been able to find her. Then Treesa told me that my twin sister might have ended up in a box of dolls that Treesa's sister had sold at a yard sale.
I felt as if my world had turned upside down. My sister, my twin, was gone, maybe for good. My mind just couldn't make sense of it. How could this happen? How could we have managed to stay together all those years, even ending up in the same bag at the thrift store, only to be separated now?
"I'm sorry," Treesa said again, and I could tell she really meant it. But I couldn't say anything. The news was still too fresh.
"I was going to name her Marie," Treesa said quietly.
"Marie?" I asked, curious in spite of myself.
"Some versions of The Nutcracker use the name Marie instead of Clara," Treesa said. "I thought, because you're both Ballerina Barbies..." Treesa trailed off then, as if she wasn't sure what else to say. I'll admit, I wasn't sure what to say either. It was obvious that Treesa felt badly about what had happened. The fact that she'd picked out a name for my sister told me that she'd been determined to try and make things right. Even though she hadn't succeeded, I was still touched by her effort.
"She'd like that," I said finally. I saw Treesa's shoulders relax a little, but it seemed from the look on her face that there was still something bothering her. I didn't have to wait long to find out what it was.
"I'm so sorry Clara," Treesa said. "I'm sorry I didn't take better care of you and Marie. I'm sorry I put you both in storage. I should've given you more of a chance. Before I bought you and Marie I wanted a Ballerina Barbie for my collection so badly. I don't remember why. I'd never even seen one in real life. I'd just seen pictures. When I found you and Marie at the thrift store I was so excited. But after I got you two home...I didn't know what to do with you. I should've been over the moon about finally having one of my grail dolls. And I was when I first found you. I don't know why the feeling wore off so fast. And I didn't know you were alive when I put you both in storage. I can't even imagine what you must've gone through. When I found you in the box downstairs, I felt so bad. I brought you upstairs so I could try and make it up to you." Treesa stared at the floor as she talked, unable to face me, or even look me in the eye.
I can't really explain how I felt after hearing Treesa's confession. I now knew how much Treesa had wanted me and my sister in the beginning, that we weren't just an impulse buy. I also knew that we'd somehow failed to live up to Treesa's expectations. It was obvious that Treesa blamed herself completely for Marie and I ending up in storage. But I still found myself wondering if there was something I could've done to make a better first impression on Treesa, some way I could've saved my sister from having to go into storage.
After a moment's silence, Treesa looked up at me. "I'll keep looking for Marie," Treesa promised. "If she's still here, I'll find her. There's still some places I haven't checked yet."
Treesa's tone was so earnest that I knew she wouldn't give up until there really was nowhere else to look. "Thank you Treesa," I said. I'll admit, knowing that Treesa hadn't completely given up hope of finding my sister gave me back some hope of my own. That hope is still inside me, not a bright flaming hope, but more like a glowing ember. It keeps me going, keeps my world steady when I feel alone and overwhelmed.
I have made friends with some of Treesa's other dolls. My sister, Marie, wouldn't want me to be lonely just because she's not here. But I still miss my twin. The thought that she could've left the house without even a chance to say goodbye makes me want to cry. But I keep going, because I wouldn't want to let her down by giving up.
I don't talk about Marie much with the other dolls, and they try not to bring her up because they know it makes me sad. Even though my life still feels incomplete without my sister, I try not to spend all my time moping or dwelling on the past. Marie wouldn't want me to. She'd want me to smile, to laugh, to dance just because I can. She'd want me to have plenty of stories to share if...when I see her again. So for her I try to do more than just exist. I try to live, to soak in all the small joys that come my way. And I still hope that someday, we'll find each other again.