A little doll with pink hair sits on the shelf, in a bird cage that the doll's owner had made at camp two summers ago. A shadow on the wall moves as a middle-aged man zips his pants and leaves the room. A six-year-old girl lays on the bed, on top of tear and semen stained sheets. She gets up and goes to the bathroom, wincing at the bloody stream that oozes down her leg.
"Owie..." She whispers, washing her lower half in the sink.
She creeps back to her room and curls up on the floor. She stares sadly up at the sky.
The next day at school, she meets a red headed boy who likes to play in the sandbox. She likes to sit with him, and they occaisionally talk.
--
Five years have passed. The same doll sits in the same cage, and the same man zips his pants as he leaves the same girl on the same bed. Nothing has changed. Except, this time, when the girl goes to the restroom, she is carrying a pearl-handeled straight-razor. As she slides the sharp edge over the delicate skin of her wrist, she not so much as winces. Old scars reopen, and bloody trails run over her arm.
"..." She rinses her arm in the sink, and wipes herself down with a wet rag.
She walks silently down the hall to her room and sits beneath the window, staring impassively at the sky.
She meets with her friend, who also cuts. They draw comfort from each other's company. He becomes a necessary part of her life, and when he isn't at school, she dies inside.
--
Four more years pass, and the young woman walks to Shop class. She sits in her seat in the back and starts to build.
"What's that?" Asks her friend, sitting next to her.
"Another cage." She says, and he nods. They finish early, and she reaches into her bag. Out comes a little doll, which she puts in the cage and shuts the door. "Nothing has changed." She whispers, and touches the doll through the bars. He hesitantly reaches for her hand, but pulls back at the last minute. He opens his bag and extracts another doll. This one has crimson hair, and he opens the cage and sets it beside hers. She turns and looks up at him. "Gaara?"
"I'll always be there for you, Sakura." He says, impulsively grabbing her hand. She smiles, and her emerald eyes light up as they meet his seafoam ones. He smiles back, elated that she didn't pull away.
"I... I know, Gaara. I'm here for you, too."
--
Ten years pass. A lot has changed.
Now, his sleepless seafoam eyes gaze at her sleeping form. Her long pink bangs flutter with every breath, and her arm is draped over his waist. In her sleep, she murmurs his name and smiles. He strokes her hair out of her beautiful face, and she pulls closer to him.
On the desk sits an empty cage, and two dolls sit outside it. Their hands are sewn together, and a sign rests on their laps.
Love Changes Everything
#
Okay, the ending was corny. But I was just lying in bed, and two things came to mind. The image of the Namine' doll in a cage, and the words 'Sakura was raped as a child' . . . . . . I just like this pairing, and it made weird sense.
Read and review, or I will think you hate it...