I sat on the shelf, gathering dust.  My joints grew creaky and my hair became more and more fuzzy every day.  Auburn hair faded to a washed out strawberry blonde.  My black clothes became grey.  One of my earrings became so degraded it fell out. 

 

Despite the neglect, I will remain here, for when she needs me.  I’ll be dusty, but she’ll still hug me close.  Is it sad that the feeling I live for is the feeling of being needed in times of distress?  I don’t know. 

 

*  *  * 

 

I watch the girl grow up; watch different toys come and go.  I now share my shelf with a swath of books longer than I’ve ever seen.  My job is now to hold up the last book.  I’ve gotten to know the cover of Loveless Volume 12 pretty well by now.  She’s started dusting me regularly; my smile seems more genuine, she says.

 

*  *  *

 

The girl comes into the room sobbing.  I know this is the moment I live for, the reason I still exist, but I don’t want to see her like this.  Since we moved to this little one-room dorm room, she’s done nothing but smile and I wonder what went wrong.  I still hold up Loveless, but now there are textbooks on my other side.  She doesn’t come to pick me up and hug me.  She doesn’t even look at me.  This is the moment my smile feels the most fake.  This is the moment when I feel the most useless.  What good is a doll that can’t comfort his owner?

 

*  *  * 

 

We now live in an apartment in the big city.  She still dusts me regularly, and I still hold up Loveless.  She got me a new earring when we moved.  Now I have hoops instead of studs.  There’s a boy that comes over.  I don’t think he likes me.  He looks at me incredulously sometimes, when his attention isn’t completely devoted to the girl.  I hope he can fill the space I was supposed to.

 

*  *  *

 

My hair has turned completely blonde at this point, and my eyes have faded to a golden brown.  The girl keeps growing, and I stay on this high shelf, watching over her.  She’s all smiles now.  I think I can finally close my eyes.

 

*  *  * 

 

I feel someone wrap a hand around my waist.  It’s warm and small. 

 

“Mommy, what’s this?” a small voice asks.

 

“That’s Yukwon, honey.” It’s the voice of the girl.  “He helped me through all the roughest parts of my life.”

 

“Can I play with him Mommy?” I open my eyes to the little girl holding me.  She’s got wide eyes and a big toothy grin, just like my girl.  Just like me.

 

“I think he’d like that.  No one’s played with him for a very long time though, so be careful.  He’s got old, creaky joints like me.”  My girl has a soft smile on her face, making crow’s feet around her eyes. 

 

The little girl hugs me to her chest.  “I promise I’ll take good care of you, Kwonnie.  Let’s have a tea party!”

 

Finally, the smile on my face feels real again.  I hope she’ll use me well, because I’m a toy... toy.