Vicky Shi (9) | Staff Reporter
Legend had it that the dolls crafted in Ray’s aunt’s workshop possessed a strange magic. They could either rescue you from your darkest moments or plunge your life into chaos. Ray was given one of these enigmatic figurines on her birthday, and it had sat silently on her desk, gathering dust.
“You don’t know how much I want to leave this life and travel elsewhere. Tell me stories of the universe beyond, for I have known nothing more than this town,” Ray would often complain to her doll whenever she was at her desk.
The doll remained as lifeless as ever, staring blankly into the beyond.
“Why don’t you answer me?” Ray whined, stomping her feet in frustration. She shook the doll as if throttling it would breathe life into the decoration.
One night, after a particularly relentless workday, Ray fell asleep at her desk, too exhausted to continue her work. The doll on her desk tsked in disappointment swiftly picked up her pen, and answered each question perfectly, having observed and learned each day that Ray had. The doll had absorbed much from just looking, from just seeing what Ray did, from hearing her complaints about her work. By the time the sun rose again, the doll had managed to finish everything.
Ray was ecstatic when she awoke to her work already done.
“I must have finished before I fell asleep then,” she concluded. “Perhaps I should fall asleep again tonight to see if it would happen again. Oh, if it does, then I wouldn’t have to worry about such gruelling work anymore!” She exclaimed, shock running down her spine. “I wouldn’t have to work a day in my life!”
That night, Ray pretended to fall asleep again and witnessed, in shock, the doll on her desk picking up her pencil and proceeding to finish her work. It was almost daylight by the time the doll finished, and it asked timidly,
“Do you mind if I do your work each and every day?”
“Of course not, I would love to!” Ray cried, jumping to her feet. “I’ve never known such a decoration could be this useful before.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” the doll cackled, her raspy, wooden voice grating to the ears.
From then on, Ray never needed to work another day in her life as the doll did everything. One particular night, the doll asked again, for she was silent each day as she was busy with her tasks.
“Ray, my friend, do you mind taking my place, here on my shelf?”
“No! Why would I ever do that? I have my friends and a life to live. Why would I ever let you take my place?” But even as she cried out, Ray felt her fingers go numb and watched as they stuck together, just like her doll. She felt her bones compress and shrink until she was no more than the size of a Russian doll. The doll, however, grew in size until she was as tall as the average fourteen year old.
“I’ll take you to see the world one day, Ray. But for now, I am Ray,” the former doll said, patting Ray’s head before heading out the door, replacing Ray in all parts of her life.
