I barely remember writing this but I vision my childhood room and closet when I read it. I always enjoyed books about dolls with inner (or outer) voices, although I didn’t really like to play with dolls all that much.
Strange how my teenage self thought that grownups forgot about things from their childhood.
English 3-4
Period 4
April 30, 1973
A Certain Reunion
Oh goodness, how lonesome one can become in here day after day, night after night, never any company. How I long for the old days back. The days when Cindy would play with me — pick me up and dress me for parties or bed. It ended when she turned 13 — her friends convinced her that playing with dolls was immature.
It wasn’t long ago — perhaps five or six years — that Cindy held me once more — and looked at me strangely. I wondered why she looked so old — but now I know. Cindy left soon after that — she found me while cleaning her closet and remembered her long-gone childhood. Cindy is probably married by now and has children to look after.
Let me introduce myself. I’m Jenny. Well, that’s what Cindy called me. My manufacturer’s name — Betty Wetty — warns people of my bed-wetting habit.
It is about time for my nap. Life is so boring when one belongs to no one, no where…
“Jenny, Jenny, where are you?”
I must have been asleep for hours — is someone calling me?
“I’m here mama, What room is this?”
“This was my room when I was a little girl.”
Hmm, the door is opening. I can’t remember the last time it was open. Who is that little girl standing in the doorway? Is it –? No, it couldn’t be. No it isn’t Cindy the child. Cindy is long gone.
“Mama! Look what I found — a doll! Can I have it? Please Mama, please!
“Why, it must be my Jenny — I haven’t seen her in years.”
“No Mama, I’m your Jenny!”
“Yes, dear, but this was my Jenny long before you were my Jenny.”
Now I understand. Cindy has grown up and has a child. What pretty little girl. She looks like Cindy did, and Cindy is a beauty too.
“Mama, can I have Jenny? I will be real nice to her and she will be a good friend with my other dolls. I will love her just like you did. Please!”
Yes, Cindy, please! It will be just like old times — for me anyway.
“Why yes, of course dear. Let’s go home and see if Daddy is there. Maybe he will like to meet Jenny.”
“Okay Mama, let’s hurry home!”
Home, that’s such a nice word.
These old writings are fun!
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So creative! I love it–and I love the new look of your blog, too.
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