Those Curly Locks
September 3, 2010 § 8 Comments
This week’s Red Writing Hood prompt is to write a story or poem from the perspective of a broken, inanimate object, as Ericka is sharing her love for The Brave Little Toaster. It may sound strange, but believe me, when you get into the flow of writing it, it isn’t.
Those Curly Locks
I knew that today was different. I knew as soon as I woke up – I always wake up when the toy-box opens, which is about roughly 8am each day, when Julia plays with me for an hour before school, and let’s me sleep on her bed while she’s out. It’s heaven, bliss.
But now, it’s different.
When I woke up, Julia was, as usual, staring right back at me, with a smile on her pretty face. She usually picks me up to brush my lovely hair. It’s gorgeously blonde, and straight, with a lovely pink floral hair clip on the left.
“Morning Barbie,” Julia said, lifting me out and kissing my cheek. She took off my pink and white pyjamas and clothed me in one of my favourite outfits – my golden sparkly gown.
“Morning,” I said, but obviously she couldn’t hear me. She pretends she can, though, but gets the speech wrong sometimes. I might be talking about how Teddy was having trouble sleeping, but she’d think I was talking about my brand new convertible.
Julia’s face lit up as soon as she put my hairbrush away. Her eyes danced.
“Boy, Barbie, have I got a surprise for you!” she gushed, and left the room.
I sat up straight. A surprise? She didn’t usually get me surprises. The convertible was a one off, special offer in Toys R Us. The only surprise I’d gotten before that was a couple of years before, a special edition turquoise prom dress, that I wore for weeks after. It shrunk in the wash though, and it wasn’t replaced.
Julia suddenly came running back in, excitedly. She sat down, cross-legged, in front of me, with her hands behind her back.
“Are you ready, Barbie?”
I grinned. “I sure am!”
After a few seconds she brought her hands forward, presenting another doll. She was beautiful – brunette curls with slight caramel highlights, a beautiful purple halter-neck paired with rolled-up jeans, and the highest heels I’d ever seen. Even my stilettos didn’t compare to these, and I was known to twist my ankle on occasion.
“Hi,” she said, smiling. “I’m Chelsea.”
I wanted to smile back, but was just too jealous. I envied her of her beauty, her clothing, her stilettos. But most of all, those curly locks.
“I’m Barbie. Hey.”
Chelsea’s smile widened. “So you’re the real deal? Wow. I’ve heard so much about you. All the teddies, dinosaur toys, even the alphabet blocks told me pretty much 24/7 how beautiful you were. But I didn’t think this much!”
I was flattered.
“Thank you! I mean, so are you. I love those stilettos!”
Chelsea grinned. “Really? I got them specially in a Vogue edition of my doll. Free.”
I stared at them. They truly were gorgeous. Peep-toed, dark blue silk.
“So… are you going to show me your place?”
I smiled and took Chelsea’s arm. I led her to my mansion, which had my pink convertible parked right outside. Chelsea gasped as soon as she set one stiletto heel on the driveway.
“Is this all yours?” she asked, touching the car with one perfectly-manicured finger.
“Yeah. I sleep in the toy box usually, but during the day I mostly hang around here. I don’t move a lot, as Julia sometimes loses where I am.”
“I totally get what you mean. Wow. Just… wow.”
I led Chelsea round the back to where all my garden equipment was.
“So, do you have your own special gardener, or do you do it yourself?” Chelsea asked, curiously playing with the garden shears.
“I usually do it myself, but sometimes Teddy or Ken helps me.”
“So Ken’s your boyfriend?”
“Wow. You’re so lucky. I mean, really, all I have is these curly locks.”
“No way! You’re beautiful!”
“No. Once, I accidentally shaved off all my locks, and I was ugly as sin. Honestly. And it didn’t help matters having a huge mirror in my box.”
I was stunned. She seemed so beautiful, but was it really just the hair? Wow.
Chelsea suddenly walked towards the back door, noticing the hedge trimmer.
“Wow, what’s this?” she asked, picking it up.
“The hedge trimmer. I wouldn’t go near that, I only use it about once a month. My hedges don’t grow that high, really.”
Chelsea laughed and looked at it from all angles. “What does it do?”
“Well… it trims hedges,” I said. Maybe she was right about the whole hair thing? Didn’t seem like she had much of a brain in there.
Chelsea looked awestruck. She obviously hadn’t seen nor heard of one before, and this seemed to fascinate her.
“I love new things. You learn something new everyday, and I tend to stick to that. Do you love discovering new things?”
I shrugged. “I guess so…”
Chelsea found the ‘on’ button and pressed it. The trimmer whirred away. Chelsea raised her eyebrows and grinned.
“Can I have a go at trimming your hedges?” she asked.
I sighed. She probably wouldn’t get off my back if I declined. “Sure.”
Chelsea smiled and walked over to my hedges. She trimmed, and was surprisingly good at it for a first go.
“Sure you’ve never used one?” I asked, grinning. She looked like a real pro.
Suddenly, as she turned to trim the other side, her heel caught in the hosepipe reel. Before either of us knew what was happening she was falling backwards, the trimmer dangerously near her head. She landed on the paving stones with a crash, her heels flying off her feet.
“Chelsea!” I cried, running over to help pick her up. “Are you okay?”
“Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just took a tumble there.”
I sighed with relief. Phew. I helped her stand up, and that’s when I noticed.
“Your hair is gone!”
Yes, sure enough, the hedge trimmer was lying on the floor, still buzzing, and surrounding it were those curly locks.