I wandered around town looking for something to buy for my own birthday. I sighed, coming across a shop with a strange toy in the window. It was as tall as a man, its eyes closed, short red hair, and a blue tattoo on his left cheek. I tilted my head as I examined his clothes. He wore a blue outfit, and top hat. He was holding a large music box with a lever that turned around and around. It was rather old. I smiled heading into the shop. Ringing the small bell on the desk, I looked around and saw an old man came into the room. "Why hello there, little one." He said with a grin. "How may I help you?" I looked at the window once more. "Sir, I'd like the doll in the window, please." I asked. His eyes grew wide behind his glasses and his grin faded a little. "T-that one?" he asked in reply. I nodded and gave a smile. He sighed and returned the gesture. "And so, he is finally going to be taken home." He let go a deep breath. "I made him 20 years ago." The old man explained. I sat on a stool next to him. He joined me and began to tell me the story. "20 years ago, I was young and was a skilled toy maker." He began. "My first masterpiece was Drocell the music playing puppet. Every doll before him was small, inferior… He was life sized! The first of his kind! To my surprise, I woke up one morning hearing 'My Fair Lady' on a music box. As I went to see what was playing, I saw Drocell—playing the tune on my first music box! He was smiling and unpainted, sitting on the table singing along." I was in awe. A doll that was alive? How could that have happened? "Then why isn't he moving now?" I asked the man. He shook his head. "I tried my best to find him a good home." He replied. "I sat him in that window, he watched the little children day by day, waiting for someone to buy him and love him. Unfortunately, those days turned into weeks. Those weeks turned into months, and those months turned into years. His paint began to chip, and he started to gather dust." The old man's grin grew solemn. I frowned and looked back at the window, continuing to hear the man speak. "Now he only sleeps—waiting for someone to buy him, and to love him. He hasn't moved in 12 years. Since that day another young girl came into the shop…I suggested a fine toy for her, yet she declined it many times." His voice grew quiet. "Was the…was the toy Drocell?" I asked. The man nodded and glanced up at him. "Now his chance has finally come. Thank you." He said with gratitude. I smiled and nodded. "It isn't any problem at all." I replied. The old man got up and took Drocell off of his stand in the window. "Now….how do I wake him up again?" he asked himself. "That's right." I tilted my head as the old man began to sing 'My Fair Lady'. As he stopped on the last bit of the verse: "London bridge is falling down…" the dolls eyes opened and it spoke. "…My Fair Lady." Drocell replied. My eyes grew wide as I stood in awe. It was alive! An actual doll was alive! Drocell turned his head to me and tilted his head. "Master…?" he called. "Who is this girl…?" His master put his hand on the Drocell's shoulder. "She will be taking you home." He replied. Drocell looked at his creator and then at me. "My… new owner?" he wondered with light in his eyes. I smiled and took his hand. They were cold to the touch.
I left soon after with him following behind me. Drocell was a new friend for me to talk to. As I arrived at home, I removed my shoes and led him inside. He looked around curiously. "Where am I supposed to be now that you have me here?" he asked. I shook my head. "In my room, silly." I replied. "You're going to share with me." He tilted his head with a clink against his wooden neck. "Share… with you?" he wondered. I smiled and led him to my room.