Post by Doll on Mar 7, 2010 13:57:55 GMT -5
She sat lazily at the end of the dock, sad. It seemed that Spot was right, the war made you almost forget things. Today she almost forgot her birthday. Today, Johanna Asillin Johnson was no longer fifteen. Now she was sixteen, and couldn't help but still feel alone. After Soldier died, Doll felt alone on her birthday. She visited his grave in the morning, instead of selling. The sad thing was that his death day was coming up too, and all she could think about on that day was what would be different if it was her that died.
If that day was her last day, what would it be like? Would Soldier act like she had? No, he wouldn't of. He was a soldier, he would be able to handle it. A small breeze fluttered her hair, and it felt like Soldier was trying to tell her it was ok, but all Doll could do was close her eyes, and hold back the tears that came for her brother. It wasn't ok. That knife was meant for her, but no, her twin, the one that everyone had loved, had to get himself killed for his sister.
Whie he was a soldier, she was a doll. Soldier had always been the one who was talkative, he would talk for her. Doll would talk through him, and it was always that way, unless she was really close to them, like Bear or Muse or Spot. She'd talk to them when he was alive, but now she felt like a burden to them sometimes. At times she would just get distant, not move, and would just go off in her own little world sometimes. It was just how she was. Other than that, she would be perfectly fine.
Muse told her she would teach her how to read.
If Muse could help her, when the letters got jumbled up, that would be one of the best gifts she could ever receive. After all, it would be a miracle. Looking at a crate, she tried to spell out what was on it, "C, N, R, wait no. That's not it. The O was before the C, wait, no, urgh!" she groaned and put her hands on her face, closing her eyes and trying to figure out what was written on the stupid crate. It wasn't stupid to Doll, she just wished that she could read it normally.
If that day was her last day, what would it be like? Would Soldier act like she had? No, he wouldn't of. He was a soldier, he would be able to handle it. A small breeze fluttered her hair, and it felt like Soldier was trying to tell her it was ok, but all Doll could do was close her eyes, and hold back the tears that came for her brother. It wasn't ok. That knife was meant for her, but no, her twin, the one that everyone had loved, had to get himself killed for his sister.
Whie he was a soldier, she was a doll. Soldier had always been the one who was talkative, he would talk for her. Doll would talk through him, and it was always that way, unless she was really close to them, like Bear or Muse or Spot. She'd talk to them when he was alive, but now she felt like a burden to them sometimes. At times she would just get distant, not move, and would just go off in her own little world sometimes. It was just how she was. Other than that, she would be perfectly fine.
Muse told her she would teach her how to read.
If Muse could help her, when the letters got jumbled up, that would be one of the best gifts she could ever receive. After all, it would be a miracle. Looking at a crate, she tried to spell out what was on it, "C, N, R, wait no. That's not it. The O was before the C, wait, no, urgh!" she groaned and put her hands on her face, closing her eyes and trying to figure out what was written on the stupid crate. It wasn't stupid to Doll, she just wished that she could read it normally.
