Doll Eyes

Doll Eyes

“Se Mamma, så vakker hun er!”

She was holding me, finally after all this time, I’m being held once more. Slowly, I can feel the cold rain drain from within me, their drops creating ripples in the puddle below. Looking her square in the eyes, I find joy. A love for life, not an inch of fear; how I long to stay in your arms. You remind me such of my Rose, my one and only Rose.

“Maria, slipp den skitne dukken med en gang! Vi har ikke tid til dette.“

Is this your mother? Can she help us find Rose?

“Men Mamma jeg vil ha henne. Kan vi ikke ta henne med? “

Don’t tear my arm, I’m going to break!

“Nei, vi må løpe til tilfluktsrommet, kom! “

No, don’t leave me! Not again!

Not again.

Oh no, back on the ground again. Next to me, my arm looks weird; I don’t think it’s connected to me anymore. Mangled, torn apart. I used to be so pretty, like all the others. Nobody will find me pretty anymore. Am I dying? Can I do that? Like everyone else? I am so confused.

I can’t see anymore.

The rain is too heavy; it pounds on my face. My eyes keep watering over; maybe it looks like I am crying. I would like that.

This puddle will submerge me soon, I know that. It’s getting hard to hear anything now. Between the constant clashing of drops on my face and all around me, throbbing in my ears, and the wailing sirens chiming from several directions, I can now hear the faint thud of bombardments hitting the earth someplace away from me. It’s getting closer though. I don’t need to hear it, I can feel the tremble.

I am trying to feel my heart beat.

I miss you Rose.

I don’t think I can.

Oh, my dear Rose, how I miss you.

*

Hello?

I’ve known only blackness for as long as I can remember. No, how long is that? Wait, I can see! There is so much more now. So I am something. Am I? Yes, I am.

But is this it? I can’t move. Yet, I am moving. I’m not alone either; I now see so many others. We are all together, in lines all around, even before me. I think my line continues past me as well. I feel so included! This is great!

No, wait. This is all me, and we are all the same. I’m not unique? I don’t think I like this place, this is too much; I want to leave. I don’t understand.

But everything stopped now. I am not moving anymore. Why not? Am I tired? Oh please, not the darkness again.

I have no recollection of how long I slept in the shadows. But eventually, the darkness disappears around me and I see the light.

“Hei! Jeg heter Rose.”

What is this now?

“Jeg tror jeg skal kalle deg Amalie”

Oh my, are you for me? I already feel so special.

Rose, I like that.

She named me Amalie, I think it was French; she often practiced French with me. And I wasn’t alone anymore, because she was always there with me. I had found life, a purpose.

Those big blue eyes had been so full of joy, and through her eagerness I learned, I truly learned a lot. Of the way of the world, so much bigger than my own, and about the forests; the trees, that cat, those she cared for and so much more. There was so much life out there, more than I could have ever imagined. We were so happy.

The days she took me on a picnic were among my favorites, especially by the lake. All those pretty flowers spread across the landscape, flowing seamlessly for what seemed endless. I think I could smell them. It didn’t matter, the sight alone felt breathtaking. At least I think it did. Rose would often brush my long blonde hair then, sitting in the field of flowers, watching the birds fly across the lake. She would even sing to me, and even though I don’t think she heard me, I sang to her as well.

Watching her swim in the lake, I laughed; she looked so happy. I longed to join her, but my great fear was that I would ruin.

But then everything changed. As much as I wished it didn’t happen, those dark, evil rumors I had learned about crept closer and closer. Her mother often spoke of them. Rose herself didn’t have much time for me anymore, yet, I feel she needed me more than ever. I sure wanted her.

Once when she was practicing her French with me, she told me she wished for a sister; a true sister. I always wondered what she meant by that. If only I could have asked her.

I soon realized why she was learning this other language in the first place; she was leaving. As if all my greatest fears combined together, I felt indescribable dread as I thought she would leave me as well. Nevertheless, my fears were misguided. She would never leave me like that.

The last time I saw her, she grabbed me in a hurry. I had been awake all night; listening to the orchestra of noise happening outside the great halls, the light flashing from above the windowsill fixating on the wall before me. Meanwhile, the rain doused on the roof above me, it was all very hypnotic.

It was so much happening this night; I have a hard time recalling what went down as we ran with all those around us. My memories all huddle together, creating one big mess of explosions, bright flashes and screams. I find that I lack the words.

I don’t remember seeing her face that night either, yet, everything else about her is crystal clear. The long red skirt she wore and thick brown jacket which matched her hair, and yellow wellingtons that were far too big. Still, her helpless, piercing screams as I fell harshly to the wet ground still ring throughout me. It seems as if they won’t leave, at least not anytime soon.

I couldn’t see them drag her away, but I know they did.

Though the hard rain beats against me, I can see the stars hanging in the night sky, momentarily lit up every other second. The sky is the only thing I do see. Rose, you taught me to pray, and tonight I pray.

And though neither you nor anybody can hear me, I sing what you used to sing to me.

‘Tu es partout car tu es dans mon coeur

Tu es partout car tu es mon bonheur

Toutes les choses qui sont autour de moi

Meme la vie ne represente que toi

Des fois je reve que je suis dans tes bras

Et qu'a l'oreille tu me parles tout bas

Tu dis des choses qui font fermer les yeux

Et moi je trouve ca merveilleux’

Please Rose,

don’t leave me.