My Writing

Day 9: Cries and Dolls

What was your favorite childhood toy?

I looked at the clock on the dresser beside my bed. 7.05. Finally, I could wake my sister up and we could go downstairs. I crept into her room and nudged her, whispering her name. She groaned but didn’t open her eyes. I sighed and poked her arm sharply. She jumped, finally awake.

‘Come on, we can go downstairs now.’ I hurried out of her bedroom, looking back when I got to the door. She was sitting up in bed, rubbing her eyes.

‘Come on!’

‘We have to wake Mam up. We’re not allowed go down without her,’ she reminded me.

I nodded and we both crept into our Mam and Dad’s room and over to where Mam was sleeping.

‘Mam,’ we both whispered, jabbing her lightly with our fingers. She  woke up slowly, blinking.

‘Mam, we want to go downstairs, to see if Santa has been,’ I said.

She looked at her own clock and sighed, sliding off the bed and into the slippers she had laid out on the floor in front. We hurried down the stairs, Mam following slowly behind. We crept towards the sitting room. I was holding my breath, waiting to see if Santa had been or if we had to wait even more. I wasn’t sure I could take any more waiting. I hadn’t been able to sleep at all during the night.

As we got closer to the sitting room door I could see the outline of some shapes on the floor. He had been! My stomach flipped when Mam turned the light on. There she was. Sitting on top of the footstool, looking at me waiting for me to embrace her. My face lit up and I fell to the floor in front of her. Baby Born the box said she was called, but I knew what I would call her. Christmasina, because Christmas was her birthday and I decided that my sister, Christina, would be her Godmother, obviously. She was everything I hoped she would be. Her plastic skin was smooth, her hands grasped my fingers and her eyes looked up at me with wonder and excitement. I knew she would get along perfectly with her big sisters, Josephine and Hannah Banana, AKA Tiny Tears. She would have a best friend in her cousin, her aunt Christina’s doll, Angela, as well. You could write books about the adventures they would have.

I looked to the side and noticed a stash of sachets and spoons. I instinctively knew what to do. I asked Mam for a glass of water and mixed the sachet of food into it to make a watery paste. I will admit, it wasn’t the most appetising of orange gunk, but Christmasina gulped it all down. I poured some of the water into her little pink bottle and fed her that afterwards. It was only a matter of time before it was time to change her nappy. The fold out nappy bag that she came with came in handy for this. As I hugged her and squeezed her little fingers I noticed that she was starting to cry. I wiped away her tears, as any good mother would and decided it really was time for her to take a nap. She was clearly exhausted. I lay her down in the cot that was perched by the fireplace, her gentle snoring the soundtrack to my breakfast. Until I got a bit sick of hearing it and turned the switch off underneath the cot, of course.

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