The
Doll Head
She
started out just like all the other Sofie dolls in the world,
identical with their molded plastic smiles, kind brown eyes and soft
dark hair. She stood in her box on a shelf surrounded by her sister
clones, waiting.
She
watched dolls identical to her being bought, longing for the day
someone would choose her box, and take her home to a child who would
love her, perhaps hug her tight at nights and whisper secrets in her
ears.
At
last, Sofie was chosen, and brought home to a young girl named Darla.
At night, Sofie was not held close, but she wandered around Darla’s
bedroom, gazing marvelously at the sleeping child in the glow of the
night light, determined to bring the young girl years of joy.
The
other toys welcomed Sofie with open arms. There was a worn teddy bear
with several stitched scars running across his body and only one eye,
who walked with a limp. Darla loved the bear more than any other toy
and slept with him every night. The porcelain dolls on Darla’s shelf
expressed jealousy that Sofie would be played with. They were too
fragile for play, and constantly feared falling off the shelf and
shattering into a million pieces.
Darla
loved playing with Sofie, but instead of building houses for her out
of blocks or dressing her up and pretending Sofie was the mayor of a
make-believe town, Sofie was used as a crash test dummy. Darla would
tie the doll to parachutes made from blankets or empty plastic
grocery bags before flinging her off the upstairs balcony. The
parachutes never worked, and Sofie always plummeted to the
floorboards a story below.
As
the floorboards rose up to meet her yet again, Sofie found herself
jealous of the porcelain dolls. Yes, they didn’t have much to do but
stand on the shelf and watch the room all day, but at least they
weren’t thrown over the railing time and time again.
Sofie’s
disintegration came far too fast. After only one day, she lost lost
her right leg. The other toys were shocked but sympathetic. The old,
battered teddy bear confided how he had been torn and sewn together
again several times.
Sofie
couldn’t be sewn. She could have tried to reattach her leg, but it
had gone missing.
Darla
had a book about a one-legged tin soldier, who stood just as tall and
steady as his own identical brothers. Sofie tried and tried, but she
could not stand steady or hop around on her single leg.
She found a pencil to use as a prosthetic leg, and slowly learn to
walk again. She limped more than the bear, but nobody mocked her or
the bear for their hobbling. The bear was Darla’s oldest toy, and far
too respected to be mocked.
“At
least you’re played with.” said the porcelain dolls. “It’s so
boring up here. At least you won’t shatter.”
Sofie’s
owner saw the pencil in Sofie’s leg socket and taped it there,
smiling. All the same, it snapped off on her next test dive, followed
by several other limbs before one week had passed.
On
her second week at Darla’s house, Sofie’s head was separated from
what remained of her body entirely. Now, she was only a head,
helplessly watching her torso be mangled by the family dog, her
pencil leg drooled on by the baby until the parents took it away and
threw it in the garbage.
There
wasn’t much use for a pencil leg anymore, when she didn’t have a
body.
Darla
picked up Sofie’s head and sighed. Sofie wanted to sigh. It was just
her luck to be bought for a girl who destroyed her.
The other toys, once sympathetic, looked at Sofie the head with
revulsion, turning away when she tried to talk to them as if they
feared the same fate would befall them. Only the old bear continued
to be her friend.
As
a head, Sofie could no longer roam around Darla’s room. She refused
when the bear offered to carry her. They tried other methods of
mobility. She couldn’t balance on a toy horse, and there was no way
she’d humiliate herself by clinging to the reins with her teeth. She
couldn’t steer a toy car, and the car didn’t listen to her spoken
directions.
The other toys watched her attempts with a sort of fascinated horror,
though Sofie was sure she heard giggles and snickers as well. Some
friends they turned out to be.
Sofie
realized if the soccer ball could roll around by itself, surely she
could learn, too. She spent long hours teaching herself to roll her
head like a ball, fighting dizziness as the world spun around and
around.
Being
only a head did make the parachutes work a bit better, seeing as
Sofie weighed less. The landings weren’t quite as hard and rough now,
not that she enjoyed being thrown any more than she had with her body
still attached.
One
day, her head was chucked around Darla’s bedroom until Sofie rolled
under the bed. She waited to be retrieved, but was left under there
to ponder, bitterly, why it had been her that had been destroyed. Why
hadn’t one of the stuffed animals been used to test parachutes? A
stuffed animal wouldn’t have fallen apart from the falls like she
had.
She
managed to roll across the floor, but it left her dizzy and tangled
in the parachute. She could not untie herself as she once had been
able to. The bear offered to help, but he had no fingers, only paws
that weren’t particularly useful for untying knots.
Tangled
in the plastic bag, Sofie could barely see or hear, and didn’t notice
when Darla entered the room.
She
was picked up and unwrapped from the bag. Darla held the bag up,
where Sofie’s head dangled underneath, tied to it by her hair.
“Where
were you?” asked Darla, staring at Sofie’s head. Sofie wished she
could answer, but of course she couldn’t.
Darla
tried to untie Sofie’s hair from the parachute, and but the knot was
so tangled that, in the end, Darla took a pair of scissors and
snipped it off. Sofie’s head tumbled to the floor, staring up at the
dark locks that were no longer attached to her head.
Sofie
lay, smile frozen on her face but terror racing inside. Would Darla
throw her without a parachute? Would the dog chew her up like it had
her body? Darla’s hand came closer. Sofie wanted to roll away, but
she couldn’t with a human present.
She
was placed in a lava lamp, floating like a fish in the water,
watching from inside. The room looked warped and green. She couldn’t
hear what the bear was telling her, and eventually, he stopped
trying.
For
years, Sofie watched the room. One porcelain doll fell off the shelf
and shattered. The teddy bear lost his remaining eye, but still
remained Darla’s favorite. Sofie watched him navigate around Darla’s
room, still with his limp. Without his eyes, there was no way for her
to communicate with him. They couldn’t talk through the lamp, and he
could no longer see her.
Darla
grew from a young girl to a young woman. Toys were donated, sold, or
thrown out, but the old, worn teddy bear always remained on Darla’s
bed. It was clear he would never leave, that Darla would never stop
loving him.
Sofie
wondered when her turn would be, surprised that a doll head in a lava
lamp wasn’t the first toy to go.
At
last, a teenaged Darla packed a box with the remaining porcelain
doll, some toy cars, a dirty stuffed unicorn, and Sofie’s lamp. She
was sloshed around in the lamp as the box was carried. The box
rumbled like it was in a car, chattering Sofie’s teeth and making her
bob in the lava liquid.
The
box was opened by an older man, who took out each toy and examined
them. “What’s this?” he asked, studying Sofie’s lamp. Sofie could
see they were in some sort of store. The man unscrewed the top and
pulled her head out.
“Let’s
see if I have a spare body.” he muttered, bustling around. Sofie
didn’t want some other doll’s body, didn’t want to be reconstructed
from different parts like some sort of Frankenstein’s monster. That
was quite different from a pencil prosthetic. But when did what she
wanted ever matter? She was a doll with no say in what humans did to
her, no say in if she was a test dummy, if her hair was cut, if she
was imprisoned in a lamp like a genie.
To
Sofie’s relief, there was no spare. A price sticker was slapped on
her forehead, and she was put on a shelf with other toys to be sold,
including many other Sofie dolls. Of course, she was the only
disembodied head there, everyone else had a body.
Those
dolls stared at her in horror, even though some of them were nude and
one had crude, childish marker scribbles all over her body and face
that the store owner must have been unable to wash off.
“What
happened to you?” asked
another Sofie doll with a jointed, posable body. Sofie realized that,
even with her old body, she had never had elbows and knees that would
bend, though Sofie was too annoyed by the question to think much
about the mobility of her old limbs.
“Who
would spend five bucks for a head?” asked another doll with a
sticker proclaiming her to cost one dollar and seventy-five cents.
“You can’t do anything, and you’re more than me.”
Sofie
didn’t answer them as she rolled herself off the shelf. Still, the
other dolls’ words got to her. Sofie
tried not to think of the movies where decapitated heads were stuck
on stakes as a warning to intruders. She hoped that wouldn’t be her
fate, but she didn’t know what else someone would use a head for,
other than a creepy decoration like Darla had.
She
rolled through the store, which sold more than just toys. At last,
she stopped at a clothing section, exhausted. Rolling her head was
much more tiring than walking had been.
“Hey,”
whispered a voice. Sofie turned away from the carpet and rolled her
head, trying to find the source. “HEY!” several voices whispered
louder.
At
last, Sofie saw several mannequin heads. Some had necks, but other
than that, they were just like her, albeit much larger.
“Hi,”
she whispered back, choked up. She thought she was the only one
without a body.
“What
happened?” Sofie asked with morbid curiosity, before realizing how
annoyed she’d been when the other dolls asked her. She shook her head
slightly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“Nothing
happened.” said a mannequin head modeling a knit winter hat. “We
never had bodies. We were always just heads.”
“Really?”
asked Sofie, amazed. They didn’t seem at all bothered by their lack
of bodies. Some of these heads were blank, with no features. Sofie
wondered if they were blind, like the bear. If they were always
blind, or if they became blind by losing eyes.
One
head looked like exactly like Sofie’s own head, but still much
bigger.
“You’re
a Sofie too.” Sofie gazed up at her bigger sister clone.
“I’m
a modeling head.” the bigger Sofie shook her black hair. “I was
made like this, too.”
“And
people loved you?”
“Sure,
I had a kid who loved to style my hair and give me makeup.” said
the Sofie styling head. “I never had a body, but I still brought
joy.”
Sofie
wondered if she could still bring someone joy. Not as a lava lamp
decoration, or a test dummy. She wanted to bring joy as a doll, just
like any other Sofie doll in the world, to make a child happy.
She
stayed with the mannequin heads for a while, finally feeling like she
belonged, but eventually rolled back to the dolls. Someone was more
likely to find her there.
Once
again, Sofie sat and watched other dolls being bought. Dressed dolls,
naked dolls, even the scribbled-on doll was chosen. By now, Sofie had
mastered rolling around. She didn’t need to try to ride a car or
horse, though those would be faster.
One
day, a big plastic dinosaur grabbed her in its teeth and prowled
around. Before she could escape from the dinosaur’s jaws, a mom and
little boy wandered in. The little boy grinned and headed straight
for the dinosaur… only to pull Sofie’s head out of the toothed
mouth, smiling.
“Oh,
Ryan, don’t you want this?” the mom held up the dinosaur, but Ryan
cupped Sofie’s head in his hands and gazed down at her with a soft,
loving smile, stroking her badly cut hair.
“I
want her!” Ryan proclaimed, holding Sofie’s head up like she was
the most valuable toy in the world.
“Five
bucks for a head?” Ryan’s mom looked at the multitude of other
dolls, including many other Sofie dolls, and picked up an intact
Sofie dressed in a snowsuit. “These ones aren’t even that many.
Look, do you want one of these?”
Ryan
shook his head firmly, holding Sofie tightly. Ryan’s mom sighed and
paid for Sofie. The owner rustled a plastic bag, and Sofie tensed,
mind automatically going to the parachutes.
“I’ll
hold her.” Ryan announced to Sofie’s utmost relief. Ryan bounced
Sofie from countertops to door handles on the way home, holding her
up to look out the car window. Sofie wanted to beam wider than her
plastic face already was.
Ryan
loved her, not as a test dummy, but as a toy. As a head, Ryan made
Sofie command armies fighting against toy robots or dinosaurs. He
made her bodies from pencils or plastic spoons or popsicle sticks,
with pipe cleaners or string for arms and legs. But just as often as
he made her walk in her new prosthetic bodies, he would make her head
roll across the floor in the same way she’d learned to do, herself.
As
a head, Sofie was small enough to fit in his pocket in a way she
wouldn’t have been with her body. She often accompanied him to
school, hidden safely in his pocket.
Sofie
became Ryan’s favorite toy, just like the limping, stitched up, blind
bear was Darla’s. He whispered that other boys teased him for liking
dolls. Sofie wished she could yell at the other boys. They would have
been shocked to see a doll head yell, surely they’d leave Ryan alone.
She couldn’t, but Ryan held her head close to his cheek after a bad
day of teasing, and Sofie knew she made him feel better. She brought
him joy, and he brought her joy in return.
One
night, as she lay with no prosthetics on Ryan’s pillow next to the
sleeping boy, Sofie rolled over and gazed at her new owner, feeling
like she was the luckiest doll in the world.
The
End
(Word
count: 2510).
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I
knew I wanted to write a story for this project, since I have been
writing stories for years. I have already been working on stories
with characters with various disabilities for over a year now, but I
wanted to do something different for this project. I have always
loved stories with living toys, such as the Toy Story films and Han
Christian Anderson’s classic tale The Steadfast Tin Soldier, which
is mentioned in this story and features a main character who is
missing a leg. I wanted to make a story with a living, disabled toy.
At first I thought of Sid’s mutant toys, which are quite like
Frankenstein’s creation and initially viewed with horror, but then I
thought of doll heads. In one of my trips to a thrift store, I saw
they were selling doll heads, as well as dolls with bodies.
I
couldn’t help but wonder, what would it be like to be only a head?
I’m fairly certain no human has ever had that disability, since they
could not survive, which made exploring the life of a toy head even
more intriguing. In looking at the heads in the store, I wondered
what happened to their bodies. If they were real, would the other
toys shun them, or regard them with a horror, not wanting to meet the
same fate? How would they move around? Would they learn to accept
being a head? Would they worry nobody would want to buy a doll head,
and would only buy whole dolls?
I
guess I imagine Sofie as an alternate Barbie doll in that she’s
mass-produced and identical to so many other dolls
I
decided to have Sofie lose her body because I was curious how the
dolls in the store became heads, since they must have had bodies at
one point. The pencil prosthetic leg was inspired by a toy horse I
bought a few years ago that looked like part of its leg was chewed or
snapped off, and I gave it a pencil prosthetic leg of its own.
Her
revulsion of the thought of getting another body like a “Frankenstein
creation” is entirely her own, and not reflective of my own ideas.
However,
some things start out as only heads, such as certain mannequins or
those big styling doll heads. I figured those would be more accepting
of not having a body since they were “born” that way, rather than
a doll who lost her body would be at first. But just like those
heads, Sofie can learn her life is still valuable even without a
body, and she can still bring a child joy.
Darla’s
teddy bear is disabled himself and incredibly loved by Darla. His
disabilities came slowly through age, such as losing eyes and getting
ripped, but he is still loved and respected by the other toys. I
wasn’t thinking this while I wrote it, but I guess he is a little
like the old man the creation watched in Frankenstein
crossed with the creation
himself, but not treated nearly as badly.
The thrift store Sofie visits in this story is a lot like the one I visited in real life, I was not really trying to have any sort of symbolism with the prices. The price of $5 for a disembodied doll head was the real price at the thrift store I visited, while other intact dolls were priced much lower. I also saw a ton of naked dolls, probably more naked dolls than dressed dolls, which is why there were naked dolls in the story.
Ryan was inspired by a boy I read about in an article who carried a dismembered doll head around for years, as well as Bobby in the short film Barbie Boy. I suppose both Darla and Ryan subvert stereotypical gender roles, with Darla playing rough with her toys and Ryan playing with dolls.
(Word count: 643).
I hereby declare upon my word of honor that I have neither given nor received unauthorized help on this work. Clark Baranoski
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