Four Little Dolls
How the Endless affect one girl's life, or how she affects them. Written for the prompt 'playmobil' on story_lottery.
In his book, Destiny read the Words: After fourteen hours of labour, Delilah Butler was born…
-
Delilah, like everyone else, had a little chat with a lovely young lady before she was born. What they spoke of was between the two of them, although Delilah does not remember, but we are permitted to know the general topics: who Delilah’s family are, what life is like, how apples taste. That sort of thing.
Delilah caused a lot of pain to her mother; her mother was hardy and strong, and held onto life to later give birth to Delilah’s little sister, and her brother Daniel’s as well, Rebecca.
-
Delilah is five when the man comes to see her. His skin and hair are whiter than snow; his eyes glint faint green from deep within dark waters. She is playing with her little dollies.
“Hello, Delilah,” he says, his voice soft like midnight, gentle as sunshine.
“Hello, mister,” she says, looking up at him curiously. She picks up a doll, male, with black hair and a mustache. It is holding a book. “This is my daddy. Well, not really my daddy. My daddy is lots bigger than this.” She looks up at the man, considering. “Not as tall as you are, though.”
The man nods, and bends down to pick up a different doll, female, with light brown hair. “Who is this, Delilah?”
“That’s my mommy. Only her tummy isn’t big like my real mommy is. Mommy’s growing a new baby in her tummy. I don’t have a dolly for the new baby yet.” Delilah holds up two smaller dolls, one male, one female, both with dark brown hair. “This one’s me. An’ this one’s my big brother Daniel. Daniel’s smart. He knows everything,” she says, nodding her head with all the self-assurance of a five-year-old who has everything.
“Daniel is a good name,” the man says. His face has the faintest suggestion of a smile.
“It is, isn’t it?” Delilah smiles back brightly. She picks up a sheaf of paper and holds it out to him. “Do you like my pictures?”
The man sifts through them: here a fat man whispering secrets, there a thin man dispensing mysteries, a raven, a woman oldmatureyoung, a griffin, a hippogriff, a wyvern. A tall, thin man holding a long-forgotten book. A three-bodied creature, fat man, woman, thin man, with faces scooped out. A man with teeth in his eyes.
“They are very nice, Delilah.”
“Thank you, mister!” she exclaims, and her smile grows brighter.
-
Delilah is sulking. The baby Becky is being fussed over, because baby Becky can already walk, talk. Baby Becky can do everything, more than Daniel or Delilah could do at Becky’s age. Delilah doesn’t like baby Becky anymore.
All Delilah wants is for baby Becky not to be here anymore, for things to be the way they used to be before baby Becky came, Mommy and Daddy and Daniel and Delilah.
Delilah isn’t jealous of baby Becky. What she is is lonely. Mommy looks after baby Becky. Daddy works as he always has, but when he comes home all his time is for baby Becky. Daniel plays with baby Becky and doesn’t have time to play with Delilah anymore.
Delilah tries to play with baby Becky, but baby Becky is too precocious to play any of the little baby games, and too small to play any of the little girl games, with any of the little girl toys. No, baby Becky favours storybooks and simple board games, where the goal is to get to the end first. Delilah likes to explore, climbing trees and jumping in the pond, and she trails skipping ropes and drops dollies everywhere.
Delilah keeps the family dollies safe. She does not have a dolly for Becky.
This goes on until Becky is five, too big to be called ‘baby’. Delilah tolerates her little sister, but no more than that.
Daniel is big now, fifteen, and Mommy and Daddy tell him to look after ten-year-old Delilah and five-year-old Becky, who speaks big words and reads at Delilah’s level. Mommy and Daddy are going out, and Delilah waves goodbye to them as they zoom away in the car.
Daniel is supposed to cook dinner, just putting meals in the microwave. Daniel is doing the usual: putting in the food, closing the door, pushing the buttons.
It was not Daniel’s fault, the investigators say later. The microwave was old, and the wiring was wearing away. It was only a matter of time.
The explosion when it comes is big, and the house is old, and mostly wood. Becky, watching TV in the living room, is caught under the debris; Delilah, reading in the kitchen with a glass of milk, is thrown miraculously clear, out of the house, though she bleeds and bleeds from shards of glass.
Daniel is closest to the explosion.
Delilah still isn’t sure what has happened. She feels the pain of bleeding, light-headedly; she sees the house afire. Looking around, she is alone; they have few neighbours, houses spaced far apart from their own home.
Delilah doesn’t think; she already knows what must be done. Becky is smaller, lighter; Delilah goes to her first. She doesn’t realise what Daniel is suffering.
Delilah coughs, chokes on the smoke; the piece of ceiling lying across Becky’s legs is already burning. Delilah heaves with strength she doesn’t know she had, pushing it off Becky so it lands burning side down. She picks Becky up; still coughing, eyes streaming from smoke, she carries her outside. Once out of the house, safely away from the fire, she sets Becky down, and goes back in, because Daniel has not yet come out.
Daniel, when she finds him, is almost unrecognizable; everything is burnt, raw, every nerve singing with pain. He is sobbing, weakly. His right leg is crushed under the fallen fridge. Delilah does not waste time trying to reassure him; she simply pushes and pushes and pushes until the fridge is off his broken leg.
At this moment, she wants, wants harder and stronger and deeper than any want she has ever felt, to save her brother.
She no longer has strength enough to carry him; she must drag him, though he cries out in pain. The exits to the kitchen, the doors and the window through which she was thrown, are all afire now. Both of them can barely breathe; Daniel gasps for breath, but his breathing is getting softer, weaker.
By the time help arrives, Delilah is cut and bleeding and amazingly, only mildly burned.
Daniel is dead.
They have to sedate her to get her away from his body. She is kicking and screaming and howling, biting shouting snarling scratching hitting, and her dark brown hair has become slightly tinted.
-
Desire says, thoughtfully, “That was stronger than I’d thought her capable of. She wanted so badly for her brother to live…”
“And now that her brother is dead,” Despair says, completing her twin’s sentence, “her despair is much stronger than it could have been otherwise.”
Desire looks down at its twin, and smiles. Despair does not smile, but nods, acknowledging Desire.
“We work so well together,” Desire purrs.
-
Becky is not afraid of her sister.
Becky is afraid for her sister.
Her sister has always had lovely long straight dark brown hair like Becky’s own, and lovely light gray eyes like Becky and Daniel.
Now Daniel is gone, and Delilah’s hair and eyes have gone all funny.
Delilah’s hair is like a rainbow now, and the doctors have cut it so that she doesn’t try to strangle herself with her long long Rapunzel hair. Delilah’s eyes have gone all swirly, and they are rainbow colours too.
Delilah doesn’t act the same anymore. Now she’s happy and bubbly like nothing has happened. Now she’s angry and sad and violent like she was the night Daniel died.
The things around Delilah are odd too. They’re not normal shapes anymore, or normal colours either. Becky is sure she saw Delilah turn a crayon into a butterfly last week.
Becky is afraid of Delilah’s new friend too, although she is more cheerful and happy than Delilah, although her eyes are normal colours, one green, one blue. Delilah’s new friend never has the same hair, or clothes, and Becky is sure her face changes a little, too, underneath all the makeup and the metal.
Becky knows it is her friend who has changed Delilah so. Becky tries to tell her mommy and daddy and the doctors, but no one will listen to a little girl.
Becky just wants Delilah to get better, now, but deep within she thinks that Delilah will never get better.
-
In the burned ruins, the man appears. He picks up the little box where four little dolls are kept. From the box he takes a little doll, male with dark brown hair, and replaces it with a doll, identical to the smaller doll within the box, female with dark brown hair.
He touches the original female doll with dark brown hair. Its hair changes, so that the colour is changing, inconstant, never the same.
He will give the box of dolls to his youngest sister. He trusts her to deliver it to its owner unchanged.
In his book, Destiny read the Words: After fourteen hours of labour, Delilah Butler was born…
-
Delilah, like everyone else, had a little chat with a lovely young lady before she was born. What they spoke of was between the two of them, although Delilah does not remember, but we are permitted to know the general topics: who Delilah’s family are, what life is like, how apples taste. That sort of thing.
Delilah caused a lot of pain to her mother; her mother was hardy and strong, and held onto life to later give birth to Delilah’s little sister, and her brother Daniel’s as well, Rebecca.
-
Delilah is five when the man comes to see her. His skin and hair are whiter than snow; his eyes glint faint green from deep within dark waters. She is playing with her little dollies.
“Hello, Delilah,” he says, his voice soft like midnight, gentle as sunshine.
“Hello, mister,” she says, looking up at him curiously. She picks up a doll, male, with black hair and a mustache. It is holding a book. “This is my daddy. Well, not really my daddy. My daddy is lots bigger than this.” She looks up at the man, considering. “Not as tall as you are, though.”
The man nods, and bends down to pick up a different doll, female, with light brown hair. “Who is this, Delilah?”
“That’s my mommy. Only her tummy isn’t big like my real mommy is. Mommy’s growing a new baby in her tummy. I don’t have a dolly for the new baby yet.” Delilah holds up two smaller dolls, one male, one female, both with dark brown hair. “This one’s me. An’ this one’s my big brother Daniel. Daniel’s smart. He knows everything,” she says, nodding her head with all the self-assurance of a five-year-old who has everything.
“Daniel is a good name,” the man says. His face has the faintest suggestion of a smile.
“It is, isn’t it?” Delilah smiles back brightly. She picks up a sheaf of paper and holds it out to him. “Do you like my pictures?”
The man sifts through them: here a fat man whispering secrets, there a thin man dispensing mysteries, a raven, a woman oldmatureyoung, a griffin, a hippogriff, a wyvern. A tall, thin man holding a long-forgotten book. A three-bodied creature, fat man, woman, thin man, with faces scooped out. A man with teeth in his eyes.
“They are very nice, Delilah.”
“Thank you, mister!” she exclaims, and her smile grows brighter.
-
Delilah is sulking. The baby Becky is being fussed over, because baby Becky can already walk, talk. Baby Becky can do everything, more than Daniel or Delilah could do at Becky’s age. Delilah doesn’t like baby Becky anymore.
All Delilah wants is for baby Becky not to be here anymore, for things to be the way they used to be before baby Becky came, Mommy and Daddy and Daniel and Delilah.
Delilah isn’t jealous of baby Becky. What she is is lonely. Mommy looks after baby Becky. Daddy works as he always has, but when he comes home all his time is for baby Becky. Daniel plays with baby Becky and doesn’t have time to play with Delilah anymore.
Delilah tries to play with baby Becky, but baby Becky is too precocious to play any of the little baby games, and too small to play any of the little girl games, with any of the little girl toys. No, baby Becky favours storybooks and simple board games, where the goal is to get to the end first. Delilah likes to explore, climbing trees and jumping in the pond, and she trails skipping ropes and drops dollies everywhere.
Delilah keeps the family dollies safe. She does not have a dolly for Becky.
This goes on until Becky is five, too big to be called ‘baby’. Delilah tolerates her little sister, but no more than that.
Daniel is big now, fifteen, and Mommy and Daddy tell him to look after ten-year-old Delilah and five-year-old Becky, who speaks big words and reads at Delilah’s level. Mommy and Daddy are going out, and Delilah waves goodbye to them as they zoom away in the car.
Daniel is supposed to cook dinner, just putting meals in the microwave. Daniel is doing the usual: putting in the food, closing the door, pushing the buttons.
It was not Daniel’s fault, the investigators say later. The microwave was old, and the wiring was wearing away. It was only a matter of time.
The explosion when it comes is big, and the house is old, and mostly wood. Becky, watching TV in the living room, is caught under the debris; Delilah, reading in the kitchen with a glass of milk, is thrown miraculously clear, out of the house, though she bleeds and bleeds from shards of glass.
Daniel is closest to the explosion.
Delilah still isn’t sure what has happened. She feels the pain of bleeding, light-headedly; she sees the house afire. Looking around, she is alone; they have few neighbours, houses spaced far apart from their own home.
Delilah doesn’t think; she already knows what must be done. Becky is smaller, lighter; Delilah goes to her first. She doesn’t realise what Daniel is suffering.
Delilah coughs, chokes on the smoke; the piece of ceiling lying across Becky’s legs is already burning. Delilah heaves with strength she doesn’t know she had, pushing it off Becky so it lands burning side down. She picks Becky up; still coughing, eyes streaming from smoke, she carries her outside. Once out of the house, safely away from the fire, she sets Becky down, and goes back in, because Daniel has not yet come out.
Daniel, when she finds him, is almost unrecognizable; everything is burnt, raw, every nerve singing with pain. He is sobbing, weakly. His right leg is crushed under the fallen fridge. Delilah does not waste time trying to reassure him; she simply pushes and pushes and pushes until the fridge is off his broken leg.
At this moment, she wants, wants harder and stronger and deeper than any want she has ever felt, to save her brother.
She no longer has strength enough to carry him; she must drag him, though he cries out in pain. The exits to the kitchen, the doors and the window through which she was thrown, are all afire now. Both of them can barely breathe; Daniel gasps for breath, but his breathing is getting softer, weaker.
By the time help arrives, Delilah is cut and bleeding and amazingly, only mildly burned.
Daniel is dead.
They have to sedate her to get her away from his body. She is kicking and screaming and howling, biting shouting snarling scratching hitting, and her dark brown hair has become slightly tinted.
-
Desire says, thoughtfully, “That was stronger than I’d thought her capable of. She wanted so badly for her brother to live…”
“And now that her brother is dead,” Despair says, completing her twin’s sentence, “her despair is much stronger than it could have been otherwise.”
Desire looks down at its twin, and smiles. Despair does not smile, but nods, acknowledging Desire.
“We work so well together,” Desire purrs.
-
Becky is not afraid of her sister.
Becky is afraid for her sister.
Her sister has always had lovely long straight dark brown hair like Becky’s own, and lovely light gray eyes like Becky and Daniel.
Now Daniel is gone, and Delilah’s hair and eyes have gone all funny.
Delilah’s hair is like a rainbow now, and the doctors have cut it so that she doesn’t try to strangle herself with her long long Rapunzel hair. Delilah’s eyes have gone all swirly, and they are rainbow colours too.
Delilah doesn’t act the same anymore. Now she’s happy and bubbly like nothing has happened. Now she’s angry and sad and violent like she was the night Daniel died.
The things around Delilah are odd too. They’re not normal shapes anymore, or normal colours either. Becky is sure she saw Delilah turn a crayon into a butterfly last week.
Becky is afraid of Delilah’s new friend too, although she is more cheerful and happy than Delilah, although her eyes are normal colours, one green, one blue. Delilah’s new friend never has the same hair, or clothes, and Becky is sure her face changes a little, too, underneath all the makeup and the metal.
Becky knows it is her friend who has changed Delilah so. Becky tries to tell her mommy and daddy and the doctors, but no one will listen to a little girl.
Becky just wants Delilah to get better, now, but deep within she thinks that Delilah will never get better.
-
In the burned ruins, the man appears. He picks up the little box where four little dolls are kept. From the box he takes a little doll, male with dark brown hair, and replaces it with a doll, identical to the smaller doll within the box, female with dark brown hair.
He touches the original female doll with dark brown hair. Its hair changes, so that the colour is changing, inconstant, never the same.
He will give the box of dolls to his youngest sister. He trusts her to deliver it to its owner unchanged.