Disclaimer: I don't own Toy Story. I do own my OCs

A/N: Don't flame me. There are no TS character in here. This is an OC drama. This was a dream I had and I would have made it an original short but being it was exactly like this, I had no choice but to put it into this fandom. Believe me, I wasn't expecting this. Kinda freaked me out and led me to think perhaps we should be more mindful of what we throw away.

If I had to choose voices I'd make Angel be voiced by Wendee Lee (her innocent/cute voice) and Runner by Dan Green (his deep/assertive voice) Cuz I'm a total geek. Enjoy and concrit is welcomed. Thanks.


Angel Wings

X -x-x-x-x- X

I can remember when she first opened me. Innocent brown eyes widening on Christmas morning, gasping in delight as she tore the wrappings off me and squealed, showing me off to everyone. "Look what Grandma got me!" she had exclaimed. Her mother seemed less than pleased and told her to put me off to the side.

And that is where I remained.

Her mother was the one who took me out of my box. Her mother told her not to touch me.

I'm not really sure why. I was just a doll. I had a brilliant white dress, trimmed with lace and pearls, long blonde hair curled just so down to my waist, and luscious, emerald green eyes adorned with thick eyelashes. My dress for some reason had angel wings attached to the back of it and those stuck out on my sides.

What was so special about me? Why couldn't I be played with? Her mother mentioned I was "china." What was that? Was that the reason?

Because of her mother, she never even gave me a name. But by others in her room I was just called "The angel." I've been placed on a high shelf - too high for her to reach - and here I sit, everyday watching Cassie (that's her) play with all the other toys. Her mother is the only one who touches me and she only does that to clean the dust off me.

I feel so alone.

Even when Cassie leaves the room, I can't come down from here. There would be no way back up. And everyone tells me I would break myself if I tried to come down.

Sometimes I feel like it would be worth it to break, if only to be off this precipice just once. Just once...

But instead, I sit and look pretty. I am told that is my purpose. I am not to be played with. I am special.

So special none of the other toys really talk to me.

Don't feel special.

I am to sit. And so I have.

Through numerous years I have watched Cassie grow. The room changed. Pictures of ponies were replaced by photos of boys. Boys in black clothing and makeup screaming at something. A desk was placed with a machine that she liked to play with now. She would be on it for hours. What I liked about the desk was it was right under my shelf, so I could always watch her.

Slowly, all the other toys went away. Soon, there were no more.

Maybe I am special.

Well, all except one; Runner. Her favorite. He always was. Everyone knew that. He was the only actual toy that didn't go away. Even when her mom suggested it, Cassie refused. She truly loved Runner.

Runner was a big, cuddly, stuffed rabbit. Grey and white with long ears that stood up and big blue eyes with an adorable button nose. He wore green overalls and it was so funny because his cotton tail stuck out the back.

Runner won all the races Cassie used to make. He always sat in the best chair when she played kitchen. Runner was always the champ. Always the leader.

Always the best.

So nice to be loved like that.

I...really didn't have the chance to know him. He always seemed to not enjoy talking or playing with the other toys when Cassie was gone. He acted like he was better than everyone else and remained on the bed where she always put him. For a cute, fluffy bunny, he was cold and distant.

But that all changed one day. One day he hopped (no pun intended) off the bed and jumped up on the desk chair, and then the desk. He started talking to me. To me! I couldn't believe it!

At first it was weatherly things, and then it became discussions about everything. He'd talk about books that Cassie had read to him and school work he had watched her do. And we talked about movies that she had taken him to see outside the room. I was amazed he had retained all of that. He spoke so fondly of his memories.

So very smart.

We spent a long time like that. Days into weeks. Weeks into months. Just him and me. Talking. Just him. And me.

I don't need her anymore.

Then one day in passing I told him, "I'm so glad we're friends." And just like that his demeanor changed.

He glared at me and snapped back, "We are not friends. I only talk to you because there is no one else. I actually felt sorry for you. That is the only reason." He jumped off the desk and went back to the bed and I swore something inside my chest burst.

How...could he say that to me after all this time? I thought...

I thought I...

Cassie burst into the room, messing with that small machine in her hand. "Cassie I mean it!" her mother called. "I want this done today!" Cassie plopped on her bed and continued to press buttons and her mother entered. "Cassandra!" She always called her by her full name when she was serious. "I'm serious. You have too much junk!" She held out two boxes. "One is donation and one is trash. Do it. Now!"

Cassie huffed. "God, Mom! Okay!" Her mother left and Cassie went about putting things in each of the boxes. She was still pressing buttons and I wondered if she even knew which things she was putting in which boxes.

But that all changed when she looked up.

At me.

Her eyes locked with mine and she put the machine down on the desk. She abandoned her new favorite toy to look at me. She reached and pulled me down off the shelf. For the first time I felt her hands touch me. She...held me in her hands and stared into my face.

She...was really holding me. Her thumb slid over my cheek.

So warm and soft...

It was everything I had ached for these lonely years. In that moment everything was perfect and I finally felt...

Loved.

And then she scoffed. "Heh. She never let me play with you. Why shouldn't I toss you into donation? Let some other kid trash you. That would really get her." And her hand released. I was flung in the air, dropping and colliding into a dirty box. I was lucky I didn't break and it dawned on me; what if I had? She wouldn't have cared...

She never cared about me. Nobody does.

She closed the flaps and I felt the box be lifted into the air. After a while it was placed onto a flat surface, then I heard footsteps retreat. Just like that, she was gone. I sighed and let my thoughts drift.

Perhaps this wasn't so bad. Maybe the next child would love me. Or maybe a collector would want me. Maybe I wasn't meant to be a toy. Maybe I was supposed to be something else.

Runner flashed in my mind and I shook my head. "No, he hates me. He said so himself." But I hadn't got to say goodbye. My chest ached again.

I heard birds chirping and was brought out of my thoughts. Wait a minute - birds? Was I outside? Why would I be outside? I heard a loud rumbling and the ground was trembling. I was starting to get scared.

Soon the sound got stronger and the rumbling was shaking my box. What was going on?!

I was lifted into the air again and flung really hard into something. The light went away, it got darker and the smell was horrid! My box split open and I tumbled into a world I had never seen before. Lots of human things strung all around and it was filthy! I couldn't breathe it stunk so bad. I blinked and felt something pull away from my face. In my collision I had hit a glass bottle really hard.

The result was a piece of my face breaking off.

I picked up the piece and touched the hole on my face just under my left eye. I understood now.

This is why I couldn't be played with.

I started to cry. It was over. I was broken now and broken toys went to the "dump." That's where I was; a disgusting trash truck. That's where I belonged.

And then I heard a voice.

"Angel!" Was that my name? I never been called that before. I was always "the angel" or "the china doll" or "the princess."

They all hated me.

"ANGEL!"

"Ru...Runner?" Was it really him?

I saw him come over the pile, panting and looking panicked. "I saw that she put you in the wrong box, so as soon as the coast was clear I jumped in here! I need to get you out before it's too late!"

"But it is too late..." He came over to me and gasped at the hole in my face. His soft, cotton paw touched it and rubbed my cheek.

It feels so much better than her. Real.

"That doesn't matter. It can be fixed. I will get you out of here."

"But why? You said we weren't friends!" Tears ran down my face and he sighed.

"I...didn't mean it. I didn't want to become attached because I knew what would happen. I knew someday she would put you away. I...was owned by someone before Cassie. I know how it works." I gasped. I never knew that. He didn't looked pre-owned.

"I know that eventually all the others go away," he continued. "I never wanted to get attached...but I did. From the moment you came into the room...I did..." He rubbed my cheek again. I felt something bubble in my core, more pleasant than anything I've ever felt before. "You are so beautiful." He leaned in. "I...truly love you... my Angel." He was getting closer.

So close...

In the midst of this, the truck was moving and it stopped again. Another can of trash was thrown in and when it did, it toppled all over us. I screamed as Runner was pulled away from me, the whole machine shaking.

Something was on my hand and I shrieked as I looked at it. It was white and puffy and I flung it off, revealing something all over my palm. It was dark in color and the smell was worse than anything else in here. "What is this?!"

"It was a diaper," Runner replied solemnly. Before I could ask what that or this substance on my hand was, the machine violently groaned and shook again. Runner gasped as he came over to me. "NO!" he cried out.

I looked up and the wall was moving towards us.

I screamed and grabbed Runner's overalls. "What's going on?!" The wall continued and the stuff inside was starting to squish into us. It was starting to hurt. "RUNNER!"

I looked into his cobalt blue eyes and he simply looked defeated. I sobbed a gasp and he held me close.

For the first time in my life someone who loved me was holding me. He was so soft and for those few seconds I felt safe.

The walls kept closing in, the items compacting closer - everything was getting smaller as I closed my eyes and wondered,

Maybe my angel wings will become real.

~End