The Porcelain Girl

1

There was a cold wind outside. And the first snowflakes of winter's eve fell down onto the streets, laying a soft thin layer of white wet snow. There in the middle of the streets laid a little girl, curled up in a corner trembling. Slowly extending her arm she opened her hand as she let the tiny little snowflakes pose on top of her hand, wetting her torn up gray mitten. She took the mitten off, leaving her hand bare, exposing it to the cold. And with curiosity she looked at a little white spot with her beautiful blue bright eyes, which could easily be mistaken by two sparkling sapphires. She smiled happily at the sight of the snowflake melting slowly in her naked hand. The smile highlighted her rosy cheeks, which looked sparkly red in contrast with her pale skin, she had a beautiful long wavy brown hair, and small lips colored violet by the cold.

She thought she was completely alone, when suddenly a tall Slavic man came into her sight. He was tall, with marked face features, a strong jaw and pale white skin, like most of Russian men. The young girl immediately knew he was a wealthy man, for he wore a thick wolf skin coat that hanged from his shoulders and a pair of elegant trousers, which complemented his elaborate staff and his subtle style of walking. So she rapidly placed the mitten in her hand back again. She curled herself tighter, started to tremble and looked down with watery sad eyes, in order to connote fright, misery and sorrow. When the man was close enough, she started to weep, and in slow motion she lifted her right arm just in the right moment when the man had arrived in front of her, she lifted up her head and looked at the man straight in the eyes. And silently she begged him with her eyes like a little puppy thrown out in the streets. The man saw her with regret, and powerfully attracted by her experienced acting and fierce expressive eyes, he dropped 3 golden heavy rubles in her hand.

With a small sigh and a faintly voice she silently said

"Spasibo," and looked one last time at him in gratitude.

"Your welcome young girl," he said with a voice filled with pity and sympathy. This immediately indicated her that she had done and outstanding performance to convince this man.

He straightened his back and sympathetically said, "What's your name, little girl?"

She lifted her head again, now looking at him with admiration and with a startled face.

"My name sir?" she hesitated, "My name is Afanassia"

"Beautiful name Afanassia," he finally said, he glimpsed at his watch and realized he was late for his appointment and finished with an "I hope those rubles will help you in this hard times." He vanished through the dark, leaving her alone in that empty obscure alley…again.

2

After a few hours sitting on that corner, Afanassia started to freeze. So she started to stay up slowly with some difficulty, but after some tries she stood up and walked away leaving the alley desolated. She walked a few blocks to the north, when she turned the last corner and to her surprise she found something that left her completely perplexed. At that exact moment when she turned away, she found a beautiful and enormous store, with a large display cabinet. The display cabinet was what caught her attention. It was overflowed with an uncountable number of toys. The store was filled with all kinds of toys: teddy bears, dolls, small wooden toy cars, scale sized wooden air planes, mechanical trains, toy soldiers, all sized matryoshkas and small porcelain ballerinas; and the store decorated with an exaggerated amount of bright colored lights, just like Christmas. All the cold that invaded her body had just drained away, and suddenly she felt how the heat of the lights warmed her skin. She felt how the colossal fire place slightly burned her hands and warmed her congealed fingers.

The girl's eyes opened with happiness. Her soft long hairs spiked with surprise. And her jaw hanged with astonishment, just like a famished little animal. As she lifted herself, she felt the rush of excitement run through her skin. She stretched her heels until she was in the tip of her toes, and hanged her hands on the windowsill of the show case.

"Wow! This is fantastic!" she silently whispered to herself as her eyes grew bigger. And her legs stretched a bit more so she could have a better view of what had gotten her completely amazed, "I've never seen so many toys in my entire life!" she told herself again.

Her eyes grew bigger and bigger, brighter and brighter. And her legs hurt for the time she had spent in the tip of her toes hanging by the cold wood of the windowsill. But after a while she slipped and fell onto the floor, awakening her from her eternal daydreams. But at that right moment when she fell onto the floor, she caught a single glimpse of beautiful porcelain doll. And when she lifted herself up, there she was a magnificent porcelain ballerina. The porcelain doll was a ballet dancer wearing an exquisite and ravishing red romantic style ballet tutu with lovely miniature details decorating the petite dress. She was in a ballet pose, in where the doll tilts down lifting a leg up to the air and leaving the other standing in the tip of her toes, with the arms down nearly touching the floor holding a flower bouquet. And her hair tied back in a classical ballet style with a big red silk bow.

This image was delightful to her eyes. Afanassia had never seen something so beautiful, something so strikingly charming. And for the rest of the cold night she stood there loosing the notion of time dreaming of her being a magnificent ballerina with a ravishing red tutu. She dreamed of celebrating Christmas and being able to open a present with the porcelain ballerina inside. She hoped she had her palpable in her delicate hands. She wished she could touch her hard and cold porcelain skin. She longed to have it in her possession.

Suddenly the lights turned on, and she was completely alone. Her feet were well placed on the floor and she took the first step. The music began and her legs started to dance synchronized with her arms. The beautiful movements were delightful to the eyes and the melody pleasant to the ears. Her body moved firmly with the harmony but she softened her movements with the sweet melody that played in her head. She was stunning on stage. Then at the final moment of the piece, she heard the applause from the massive audience she saw at her front. There were millions of people amazed by her spectacular performance. She was there smiling proud of her talent that had left the audience entirely startled.

And then the lights turned off.

She couldn't see anyone. The applauses disappeared with the sound of music. She was alone…She felt the strong wind graze against her skin. She swiftly opened her eyes and couldn't see anything. The street was somber and desolated. She felt scared and alone again. All that excitement and…happiness she had felt in her imaginations had disappeared, at the same rate as the speed of light.

"Wh…wha…what happened?" she said to herself incredulous, what had just happened? The doll suddenly disappeared! How could this be! Just in a moment the doll was in her hands and she disappeared! She flew away and leaved her alone in the cold obscure night.

"Sorry my little devushka, but we're closing," she heard a voice say behind her back, "I think you should return home or this freezing cold will kill you before sunrise."

Afanassia turned around and saw this young man with an elaborate black moustache and a big top-hat.

"Ooh, yes sorry sir. I didn't realize how much time did actually pass;" she said quickly, "I should return home by now," and ran far away until she couldn't be seen.

3

She ran, and ran far away. And ran such a distance that the streets and alleys started to disappear in a conjunction of trees, closed up together, forming the dark green forest that surrounded her small wooden house. She lived with both of her parents; her mother was seriously ill and passed most of her time in bed. On the other hand, her father entered the dark doors of alcoholism, when he came into notion that his wife would die of tuberculosis and there was no existing cure at the time. And the worst of all was that if there was a chance of having a cure, they would never have the necessary amount of money to prevent her premature death. So he sent Afanassia to beg on the streets while he gambled the few rubles they could ever get, and drank his soul with the last drop of vodka of his never empty bottle.

Since her mother got worse, and coughed her lungs out staining clothes and bed sheets with scarlet red spots. His father became more and more drunk. And the money Afanassia was able to get, was drained and spent in more bottles of vodka. Leaving her alone and cold, waiting her mother's death, so she could escape from her villain father, and never be chastised again for not brining enough rubles for his empty bottles.

But that night she couldn't sleep. It wasn't for the sick and rusty coughs her mother screamed every night or her eternal weeps of fear and pain. Nor the drunken cries of his devastated father. Not even the cold air that froze her hurt body. But it was that, doll. She seemed as her only comfort. She loved her mother, but she knew she wouldn't be there for that long…and she knew that doll would be…eternal. She would never hurt her or abandon her. She would accompany her everywhere, in the bad and in the good moments. And for nothing in the world would leave her. She seemed as her only opportunity to be loved, but couldn't reach her. An impossible task, but something told her she needed that comfort, or her life would be…over.

4

So Afanassia went every day to the streets of Moscow, and begged, as her usual job. She tried to reunite the rubles she got, but weren't enough and her father would beat her for not bringing him the money he wanted. And surely, like so many other times, he would find the money she had recollected, and leave her empty handed. So with no hope, she would go to the toy store every night after her hard work, and dream, dream until the end of time.

However time passed and nothing got better. She knew she would never get the doll. Her mother got worse, and her father couldn't even get to his feet. And as her mother got worse, she got weaker, until the point she couldn't even hold Afanassia to her arms. Afanassia, tried to hold her in her arms, but even the single touch, hurt her skin, and the tears burned her face. She tried not to go to beg, just to spend time with her. But her father got angrier and angrier. Until one night, Afanassia laid beside her as her mother slipped her last breath from her throat, leaving her body soulless and abandoned. That night Afanassia felt empty, everything she cared about, had left and would never return. Everything her and her father believed in, everything they both cared about, abandoned them just leaving her body in a solemn and serene eternal sleep.

That night Afanassia abandoned her home, and ran to the city, she wanted to abandon that place, she couldn't bare the pain. She couldn't live with her father anymore. She knew he would never forgive himself, and blame her instead. She curled herself in a corner and cried herself to sleep, but the next day, when the sun opened her eyes. The first thought that came to her mind was…I've got to get the porcelain doll.

Realizing this sudden thought, Afanassia quickly woke up and tried to stand up leaving the dark corner behind. Knowing the store's address as the top of her hand, she walked carelessly and unconsciously through the streets and alleys, pushed by her desire. She had no strength at all and she felt how slowly she was dying inside, but that ballerina called her, and convinced her, whispering in her ear. Every step became harder and more painful, but she didn't care, the strength of her will was stronger than that of physical pain. She walked and walked and walked, again and again. Her limbs were hanging, and her bones were crushing her skin while the accumulated ice in her coat started to penetrate the fibers and started to contact her body. But she still walked, until after long hours passing through crowds and crawling in the snow…She saw it. There it was, still colorful and full of toys. Stunning as always, it didn't matter from what view she saw it, it was completely incredible. You could see it, from the left side of it and it was startling, from the right and it was beautiful, from the sky and it was blinding and from underneath the floor and it was impressive. As she got nearer, the strange mixture between desire and obsession became something like love. And that warm felling she felt when her mother was alive ran through her body again. That was her fantasy home. The one she would always visit in her imagination, and would keep her ghosts and demons away.

Slowly she walked towards the great display window and took a big breath, for she knew this was the last time her big blue eyes would stare at it again. And slowly she tried to open the colossal glass and wooden door in front of her. She laid her soft pale hand on the doorknob, and felt the chill ran through her spine…but, she couldn't do it. How was she going to be able to take the doll when there's a massive crowd who can spot her, and maybe even send her to the police?

It's too risky, she thought, how can I distract them?

Suddenly, like a miracle, something really unexpected happened. A chariot just across the street had fallen left, leaving the right side door up on the air. It seemed the driver had drunk a few drinks of alcohol before leading the old man of the cabin home, lost control of the horses and let it roll aside, injuring the passenger inside. It was a really common accident, even if the driver wasn't drunk. Russian horses are really wild and if the driver doesn't pay enough attention, can lose control on them and provoke accidents like this.

But even if the accident was an everyday event, it seemed as if destiny had gone to her favor after so many years. At last she was able to fulfill one of her dreams for the first time. Every women, men and children inside ran through the door and tried to help the old man and the drunken driver, even the poor horse who was unable to move for the chariot's weight. And the most important person of inside left too…the owner, the young man with his elaborated black mustache, and his elegant top-hat that saluted her that first night she saw the porcelain ballerina. The store was desolated, not even a single soul guarded those walls. At last it was abandoned.

5

Behind Afanassia, the chariot had fallen on the streets. There were loud screams, screams of horror, of pity, screams of help and screams of agony. There were worried faces and curious ones. From a fair distance it seemed as a very interesting and tense reunion, which just made more people approach the scene. But the event was so shocking that no of those people saw the little poor girl, with torn up gray mittens, a holed jacket and dirty socks enter the lonely store. Afanassia had finally made up her mind, and made the decision of entering the store and steal the porcelain ballerina. The doll had been there hidden for so much time that nobody would notice she had been gone. It was a perfect plan, and the accident was a precise distraction. Their shocked faces told her that they would be there for a long time, enough for her to enter and leave with the doll in her hands.

She laid for a second time her hand on the doorknob, and feeling its cold touch, turned the metal device and heard the pleasant but discreet clicking sound that indicated the door was open. Hesitant she took a first step, and broke into the store. The surrealistic scene amazed her, she would've never thought that her tiny feet would step that clean wooden floor. She felt the subtle heat of the colored lights in the tip of her uncovered fingers; and she felt the joy of sharing her presence with those playful materials. Out of her trance, she remembered her actual purpose. And turned her head to the spot she had been staring at for weeks. And there she was…with her beautiful red tutu, and her rose bouquet. She let a small wet tear stream down her face, and a wide smile covered her face, as she felt that rush of happiness come back again. Her eyes grew bigger in amazement and shined for the lights reflected on her tears. She took three steps forward and taking a heavy breath, she lifted her arm, slowly. Her hand trembled held up in the air, moving inch by second. Her breathing became heavier and faster. Her eyes became bigger and bigger, her smile grew wider and wider, showing her avid teeth, just like a hungry animal. The curiosity and desire was killing her. That moment she was longing for so long was becoming true all of a sudden; all her worries had gone with the wind, and all the welcoming warmth of what she thought was love filled her trembling body. The moment passed extremely slowly. Hesitating, her hand touched the doll's cold porcelain skin and closed her eyes. Satisfaction had come to her doors.

I've done it! She told herself, I've done it! I have the doll! I have it…I have it… She constantly said this in her mind. She slowly opened her eyelids and then she saw the wooden floor in front of her. She saw the display window showing the street, and the crowd surrounding the accident. She felt completely confused. The store had changed completely of perspective. Everything had changed, she felt taller, colder, even more fragile.

And then she saw a fragile, small and defenseless body curled up in the floor.

The body seemed as if it was sleeping, but it had no breathing, and its pale lifeless hand held a torn up gray mitten…

6

No, no, no, no…She whispered to herself, her voice sounding louder. This can't be…NO! Please help me! Someone get me out of here, what is this? She screamed and screamed but no one could hear. Somebody help me! Please…I won't do it again, please just forgive me, it was selfish of me. I'm sorry I shouldn't have, I shouldn't have. She wanted to cry but no tears came out of her eyes. She wanted to run but she couldn't move her limbs. She wanted to speak, but no voice came out of her throat. She wanted to close her eyes, but she had no eyelids. She felt helpless. She felt scared. She felt guilty. She felt unhappy…again.

Everything she expected had washed away: her goals, her dreams. Nothing remained.

She saw her own lifeless body; lay carelessly on the floor, and the only desire she had left was to die and return to the embrace of her loving mother. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, please forgive me…return me home. Take me to the place I belong…I'm sorry, she silently thought as her weeps couldn't be ever heard. And she saw how the kind young owner, with his black mustache entered rushing through the door, trying to revive her dead body. Not ever knowing that her soul would be trapped on a porcelain ballerina…forever.

"Oh my god, wake up dear girl, wake up. She can't be dead, can she?" He asked, perplexed.

"I'm sorry mate, she probably died for the cold," his sad colleague, whispered.

"I remember seeing her in front of the display window every evening. What a lovely girl she was, I hope she has gone to a better place, out of this cruel world," the owner said, with warm watery tears stream down his face.

"I hope so too," his friend wept, "I hope so too."

And both of them stared, how ruthless their world was, and how morbid their society could be, so morbid even to take an innocent child's life.