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Rated: E · Short Story · Children's · #1942816
The story of a doll's life.
         Long ago, long before your parents were born, a little girl named Dinah lived with her mom, dad and, eventually, two little brothers. She shared her room with a doll named Eleanor, who had always been a part of her life, for as long as she could remember.

         Eleanor had red hair tied into a ponytail and curly bangs, just like Dinah’s blonde hair. Dinah’s mother made all of Eleanor’s clothes, as well as Dinah’s. Dinah’s pajamas and robe matched Eleanor’s, while many of Eleanor’s dresses matched those in Dinah’s closet. Dinah’s father made a pink wooden cradle for Eleanor to sleep in, though she often slept with Dinah in her bed. He also made a beautiful blue trunk for her clothes. Dinah took great care to keep Eleanor’s clothes clean, her hair brushed and her face free of dirt and smudges.

         Eleanor and Dinah did everything together. They liked to climb up into their tree fort, where they spent many happy hours just thinking and enjoying the view. Dinah liked to play records for her, as they sat together in their bedroom. They loved “Alvin and The Chipmunks” as well as “Peter and the Wolf.” Whenever they heard the scary wolf's music Dinah always clutched Eleanor tightly. Though she never ate much, Eleanor was allowed to sit at the kitchen table as she watched Dinah help her mother fix meals for the family. Eleanor was happier than any doll could be, and hoped these happy times would never end.

         When she got a little older, Dinah began to leave Eleanor all alone in their room nearly every day for long hours. However, on the days Dinah was home and in the evenings, they still listened to music, played dress-up and spent blissful hours together in their tree fort. Though the time Eleanor spent alone was always lonely, there was an added pleasure. Dinah began to read books to Eleanor each night, as they snuggled together, just as Dinah’s Grandma Malone did for them both, not so long ago. Sometimes Dinah read to her as they sat in the tree fort. Eleanor felt the extra special times spent with Dinah more than made up for the many long hours she spent all alone. She still felt happy when Dinah was gone and looked forward to the time she would come home for the day.

         But then, Dinah stopped including Eleanor in most of the things she did during the day. She watched through the window as Dinah played with other children in the very tree fort she once thought was only for the two of them. Though she had to get used to the idea, Eleanor knew that other people loved Dinah as she does, so she thought it natural other kids would want to play with her. What bothered Eleanor even more was that when they were in their room together, Eleanor sat on her shelf, out of Dinah’s way. Dinah still kept her fairly clean, at least dusting off her hair and changing her dress now and then. But they rarely played together, and after awhile, not at all. Eleanor felt sad, but didn’t know what to do about it.

         She didn’t yet know how much worse she would feel, or how much more lonely she would become. Dinah stopped coming home. Months passed and there was still no sign of her. Eleanor’s hair became straggly with dust, which got thicker with each passing day. Her face was full of grime, while her dress, now with a stain on it, was also covered with filth. She amused herself by looking out at the window at the tree fort. Finally, Dinah returned, but paid no attention at all to her poor, grubby, lonely doll. Instead, she packed up all of her books, records and clothes into boxes, leaving Eleanor with the rest of her old toys until sometime later, when Dinah’s mother put them all in boxes. Eleanor, who was packed with her clothes in the little blue trunk felt like she was being taken up some steps to somewhere hot and dirty. Eleanor thought it was to be the bitter end of her happy days, and that she would live in the attic forever, without even a view of the tree fort.

         That’s how it was for many long years. Eleanor tried to keep her mind busy by remembering the stories Dinah used to read to her. Even in the dusty darkness of the attic, she could still hear Dinah’s parents talking, or watching television in the rooms below. Once in awhile, her heart jumped as she heard Dinah in the house. It had changed somewhat, but she could never have forgotten her voice. Oh, how she wished Dinah would climb the stairs and take her out of this awful place!

         One day, Eleanor noticed that she no longer heard Dinah’s father’s voice. She could hear her mother walking around the house below her, but she rarely spoke. The television was the only sound in the rooms downstairs, unless someone came to visit. Then, soon after, the home fell completely silent. Eleanor paid no notice to the passing time. Indeed, she slept through most of it, as there was little to do besides dream of happier days.

         It was during one of those blissful dreams of a summery day in the tree fort when Eleanor awoke with a jump. Still half asleep, she wondered what awakened her. She heard it again. It was the sound of a door opening and closing! Even more wondrous, she heard Dinah’s voice--that dear, sweet voice! It sounded different somehow, but it was indeed true. Dinah was in the house again.

         Eleanor wished with all her might, silently reaching out to Dinah, begging her to take her out of her attic prison. She rejoiced at the squeak of the attic door opening, as a small hope grew that she would soon be let out of the little blue trunk.

         “Oh, there’s my doll trunk!” Eleanor could feel Dinah pick it—and her--up.

         “Open it, please, oh please!” Eleanor silently begged. She wanted so much just to see daylight once again, but more than that, to see Dinah’s face at long last.

         As if opening a treasure box, Dinah threw back the lid. There was Eleanor, as she had left her many years ago. Her face, hair and dress were dirty, but she was otherwise okay. For her part, Eleanor saw right away that Dinah was much older and showed the care lines her mother used to have. Her hair had changed from blonde to a frazzled iron-gray, but it was still the same beloved face of her old friend.

         Dinah took the blue trunk—and Eleanor—home with her. Soon after, Dinah changed her dress, washed her hair and combed it back into its usual ponytail. She cleaned the grime from her face and set her in a place of honor on the dresser in her bedroom.

         Some things had changed, though. It wasn’t the same house, with the tree fort in the back. While Dinah rarely took Eleanor down from her perch, she did keep her clean, with her dress changed. They once again spent many happy hours together for the rest of Dinah’s life, reading, sleeping and listening to music. Eleanor felt happier than ever, for she knew as she loved Dinah, Dinah loved her too.


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