Bryna sits down at her dressing table and avoids looking at herself in the mirror, instead focusing her eyes on the picture she taped to the glass months ago. The pretty doll in the picture was gazing back at her with a smile. Bryna studies the smile closely wondering what made the pretty doll smile like that. She then moves her eyes to the dolls eyes and swears she sees them sparkle at her. Yes, the doll looked happy, really happy, and Bryna knows it is true happiness twinkling in her eyes and not just a mask hiding deep dark secrets and merciless pain. Bryna sighs and forces her eyes to look away from the doll’s eyes and from the picture of the doll completely as hopelessness starts to reclaim her mind.
Bryna quickly focuses her eyes downward, again avoiding the mirror and the reflection of herself that she knows would be staring right back at her. Sitting like that for a long time, Bryna finally takes a deep breath and slowly lifts her chin up just as a single tear falls from her right eye and starts making its way down her cheek and curving slightly heading towards the corner of her upper lip. Even before the tear rolls over the curve of her mouth Bryna can feel the salty sting warming the trail it is making on its journey downward.
By now Bryna’s head is up and if she let her eyes focus she would see the colorless reflection of herself staring back at her. Using her tongue, she swipes at the tear just as it reaches the crack between her two lips and tastes the familiar salty flavor of it. Only then does Bryna let her eyes focus on the painful reminder of who she is, her reflection.
Letting her gaze start at the top, she sees her hair in its constant look of disarray. Bryna can’t remember the last time it was combed, but could almost swear it was back when she was a brand new doll. Bryna can hardly remember those days back in the store, in her box waiting for the perfect owner to come and pick her out and take her home.
Bryna stops the thoughts from continuing knowing they will only add onto the pain she feels now as she lowers her gaze a bit more, seeing her skin, so pale and dirty. Once she dreamed she had beautiful golden skin with pale pink freckles dotting her nose and cheeks, but Bryna knows it was just a dream, a wish to be something she could never be, a desire to be like the doll in the picture, to be happy, taken care of and loved. Yes, it was only a dream, one Bryna always has to force out of her head because it too hurt her to much to think about.
Next Bryna focuses on her eyes, the wide, dark, dull orbs looked black as charcoal without even a hint of sparkles or happiness. Did Bryna always look like this? Was she created to always been in such pain and so full of sadness? Bryna tries one last time to try to remember the day she was created but with no such luck she just sighs again and gets up from the dressing table, not even wanting to finish her self evaluation today.
Every day is always the same for Bryna. She wakes up alone and goes to bed alone. There is no one to comb her hair or wash her face. Her doll frame is thin and gangly and her last worn dress is sizes to big now and torn and stained beyond repair. Her socks are hardly able to stay on her thin legs as they are so full of holes and Bryna’s last old shoe lost its mate ages ago causing her to limp as she walks.
Walking over to the corner of her box Bryna hardly notices the cobwebs and there inhabitants as she slumps down with her arms and legs falling limply beside her. She hardly notices the sharp pain in her back as the rusted and motionless key jabs into her as she leans back. Bryna doesn’t carry any hope of feeling it getting turned again and wonders if it can even be turned at all anymore.
Leaning her head back, Bryna sighs one last time before becoming motionless once again. Just a doll, a doll nobody wants, and the truth of Bryna’s existence is locked forever behind a glass in the very back of the store room gathering dust. Will anyone find her?
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