Her beautiful frame is outlined in the moonlight as she walks with the clacks of her heels. Brunette locks fall and curl past her shoulders, bouncing as she continues down the empty road. The girl's dress is sleeveless, with a low neckline that reveals her breasts curving outwards, protected by a barrier of black lace and frilled with coal ribbon. It becomes slim around her waist, curving inward, then flowing out completely at her hips, defining her seemingly perfect body. Emerald eyes stare forward into the distance, unmoving, uncaring. The girl searches for her matching pair of eyes, the ones she would gaze into night after night, glorious song filled day after day. But no matter where she turns, his indigo-violet orbs are no where in sight.
She is alone and tired, but she will keep walking as long as she has to.
"Where were you?" Her captures shout, tossing her carelessly back in her wooden cell. "We told you never to leave this carriage!"
The dolls eyes are cold as she gives them a stare.
The barrel of a gun is pressed to her forehead, cold and harsh. The albino spits at her, ruby eyes flaring, "He asked you a question!"
"I was out on a walk," She replies, her hair falling down to her collarbone and her low neckline.
"Stay in this damn carriage," The brunette huffs, glaring at her through harsh, forest green eyes. With that, they withdraw themselves from the enclosed space and slam the carriage door, shaking it and stomping away, talking amongst themselves.
The doll sighed, shifting in her seat and observing her snow white dress, fussing with one of the black ruffles. What have I got to lose?
She pulls open the carriage door and begins to walk again.
As the doll walks, an old gear creaks in her mind, echoing. She can hear the sound of the carriage behind her, as if it were moving, the old wooden wheels spinning nostalgically. A sad smile stains her beautiful face as she glances at the old music shop.
The music shop...oh, how she missed it. Whenever she would return to that old building, the most beautiful piano flowed through her ears, and she would hum lightly upon entering.
The doll is alone now, as she has no address to return to any longer. She is fated to wander the streets and sing, sing, sing...
She stumbles in her usually easy to walk in black heels, passing that quiet, empty shop. Spinning that heel and standing, the doll starts to walk back to the carriage, lest her captors find her wandering once more.
Her body is growing old and tired, but she has to keep searching and singing for that lost man. Sighing in defeat, she steps back into the carriage quietly and lies against the old, uncomfortable brown leather.
"Elizaveta, dear, please come here," Roderich calls to her, turning his body from where he sat on his piano bench. Elizaveta, the cherished doll of this man, walks into the room eagerly and adjusts her dress. "Yes, Roderich?" The man turns completely, wearing a warm smile and beckoning her. "Please come here." She returns the smile, walking over calmly and sitting on the piano bench next to him. Roderich begins talking about a new piece he's composing and will hopefully put on sale within the next month. "The melody and music itself is done," he explains, using his hands to gesture, "but I just cannot find the words. In fact..." Roderich wears the sweet smile once more, gently holding a strand of her hair between his fingers, "...I was hoping you could help me with that, my darling." He brings the strand of hair up to his lips, causing a heated expression from his other. Elizaveta was a precious creation of Roderich. He was a musician who composed his own music and played beautifully. He'd been alone for most of his life, which is why he created her-a doll to cherish and love with all his heart, be in the company of her, create music with her. She was such a sweet girl-and very beautiful at that. Brunette curls and emerald eyes. No longer was he lonely with her around. His life was so perfect and he felt so content with it, it almost created the feeling of ecstasy. Maybe this doll had fallen in love with her creator. He was so kind towards her, always holding out a slender hand, and they would dance and spin around the room. Roderich was such a handsome man, smooth, chestnut hair and violet eyes that would always gaze upon her lovingly. Always treating her like the porcelain doll both of them knew she was. In return for his kindness, she would sing beautiful songs for him, and only him. Elizaveta sang so beautifully it could bring a tear to the eye at the sound of her tune, and the first time you would hear her sing, you would beg on your knees and praise her for more. "I could help you with the lyrics," she tells him, winking her left eye, "if you play the song for me first." The man smiles and nods once, moving in his seat and closing his eyes. He takes a deep breath, then opens them, scanning the music, and begins to play. Roderich's fingers flew across the keys swiftly and gracefully, as if drawing on the surface of a pond. He ran back and forth on a few high keys, then lingered several seconds in silence before continuing the even, medium melody. Elizaveta observes his every single note, not hearing one flaw, but is taken out of her musical trance by the man sitting next to her. He continues lower chords with one hand, and with his other, positions her hand on several keys. "Just play this note every fourth beat," Roderich whispers to her, smiling into her ear. The doll nods, following his instructions and playing the chord at the end of every measure, combining her simple, even task of the one chord and his constant running up and down the high and low notes (whilst being careful not to disturb Elizaveta) to create a perfect, melodic lullaby. The two finish the song together, both ending with a simple chord. She looks up, her eyes almost tearing, and murmurs, "That was wonderful." Roderich smiles, his violet eyes shining. "Thank you, my dear. Around the bridge and beggining, I composed a part for a flute to play. Maybe I shall add some violin," He wonders out loud, standing formally and shutting the keys. "I forgot something. Please, would you come here?" Elizaveta nods, walking over to where the man stands, shuffling through a drawer. "Stand still," He tells her, turning around, holding a white lily in his hand. The doll's eyes widen questioningly, but he raises a finger and asks, "If I may?" She nods, and he slowly moves the hand up to the left side of her head, wondering if he should slide it into her hair. Roderich smiles at this, slowly adjusting her hair and beginning to put it in, when the bell in the front of the shop rings, followed by three pairs of footsteps. "Customers?" Elizaveta blinks, staring at the opening of the door leading to the front. One at a time, three men file into the back room with them-an albino, a blonde, and a brunette. Roderich fixes his stance, both arms behind his back. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but if you wish to purchase anything, you must do so in th-" Elizaveta is yanked backwards by a pair of arms. When she turns, it's the blonde one, his blue eyes are glaring forward at her creator, and he shouts in a thick French accent, "Antonio, help me with the doll! Gilbert!" "On it," The albino grins, pressing the barrel of a gun to Roderich's temple. He barely had any time to protest before the shop rang with the echo of a gunshot. Horrified, the doll screamed and tried to pull herself away to grieve over her master, but her view of his blood is blocked by the brunette as he picks her up from her feet, avoiding her kicks and throwing her heels to the floor. "G-Get off me!" She shouts, tears infiltraiting her vision and making it swim. "Roderich, help me, please! Help...!" The poor creation is unable to see any longer as her vision is covered by a white-gloved hand. The brunette (she assumes so, the accent this time is a Spanish one instead of French) notifies the albino to pick up her shoes on the way out. Just as she screams for help, the hand falters for a moment, allowing her a quick view. The lily is on the dirtied floor, crushed by a black boot. Elizaveta cries out in pain and agony as she's carried away, and since that day, she has never set foot in that music shop.
The doll awakes from her dream in a cold sweat, shaking the carriage as she sits up quickly. Her breath comes fast as she clutches her chest nervously, her hand shaking.
"It's that dream again..."
Elizaveta turns to sit properly in the carriage, folding her hands in her lap. She takes a hand and brushes it against the window and wipes away some of the fog. Sighing, she moves her hand back away, accidently brushing it against the metal holding the glass in, causing a quick shock.
"Roderich...for what reason was I born?"
Her eyes fill with nostalgiac tears as she lightly brushes her fingertips against her lips.
"Why is my heart the color of silver?"
In the older days, when Roderich spoke to me He would tell me that I was special A special doll. Admittedly, I loved the attention I loved him telling me how much he cherished me, admired me... "You are a special doll." His voice rings in my head, and I could almost cry with hearing it... Singing and dancing, just for him, in those beautiful dresses he made for me and only me. When I danced and sang in my most practiced voice and song, he would praise me. How I loved the attention, the feeling of his eyes observing me. I keep singing today, the words that I composed to his song - the one song that he played for me. I remembered it - of course I did! A doll never forgets something as beautiful as a song - especially the one he played for me on that last day. Today, I wish I knew why I was born. But until I can find that out, I'll sing. I'll sing for all eternity if it only wakes him up one day.
Someday, my voice will crack, and I will fall into a deep sleep And I'll go to the same wonderful place where my creator is I know this wish will remain ungranted Singing, dancing, living alone to break
It stopped.
The singing stopped one day.
It was around mid-afternoon. The doll was singing it's usual sad song, the one that Roderich composed before his slaughtering.
The doll's captors were sleeping at the time of her singing, as they always did. The moment it stopped, they awoke to a crashing sound.
"Nngh...?" The albino sat up, stretching out his back. "The doll...?"
"She's escaping!" The blonde one shouted, bursting into their room. "The doll is escaping!"
Elizaveta was panting, her fists shaking as she banged against the side of the carriage door, breaking it down. It fell, and she collapsed along with the door, scrambling to stand. She began to run as fast as one coud in heels - even a doll would have trouble with that.
Her three captors began chasing after her, screaming threats and shouting at her, only making her want to break down and be carried away again.
I can't remember! She cries in her mind. I can't remember the song!
The doll falls to the ground, her arms scraping the dirt. She notices cracks, knowing she hasn't much time left.
Elizaveta scrambles to her feet, running to Roderich's grave by the ocean.
"I'm h-here," She pants, dragging her cracked body to his gravestone, covered in flowers.
Her hair begins to fall along her broken shoulders, as she claws herself forward. "R-Roderich," Her face cracks a smile as her delicate hands disintegrate into the grass.
"I'm he-ere..." Just the sentence brings the doll so much relief, she begins to cry. Her face cracks, and she lays down, head pressed up against his gravestone, and closes her eyes.
She falls into a deep, peaceful sleep, never to be disturbed.
"Ngh..." Elizaveta groans, turning over and opening her eyes. "Wake up, my dear." "R...Roderich?" Her head is on someone's lap, and she hears a peaceful chuckle above her. "How have you been?" Elizaveta is stunned, too much for words. Her eyes fill with tears. She's unsure what this is - maybe a dream, or the afterlife. "I..." Roderich smiles at her, violet eyes sparkling. "I'm sorry. It was enough that you had to live alone." He grabs her hands, standing and pulling her to her feet, and pulls something from his pocket. A single, white lily. Elizaveta is in absolute awe. Tears run down her cheeks as he slides the lily into her hair. And she smiles. She smiles.
Authors Comments
Yeah, I've had this idea for a while. I really like it - but shouldn't I be working on a certain multi-chapter story called Expectation?
Well this is a laptop, and the files for Expectation are on my computor.
Reviews are appreciated! Thank you for reading.