Mommy and Daddy loved each other very much, but only Daddy loved Mary.
After he came from work each day, he would open her door to her triangular room, and slide her dinner in. Mary was happy when it happened. She knew it was Daddy, because the shape was large and bulky, so it must be a Daddy. Daddys are supposed to be all big to protect their kids, but mommys need to be small, and huggable, like her dolly. Her dolly was named Chloe, and she had orange eyes like pumpkins, and red hair like blood, and she had a little clover on her forehead, standing out on the pale white skin, white as the snow she was found on. Oh, Mary and Chloe had such fun together. They had tea partys, and they played pretend, reading with one another the little book of fairy tales, with Cinderella and the Elves Shoemakers and Snow White, and more wonders. Chloe wore her pretty navy blue dress with her green mary janes, and her white socks with blue stripes. Mary just wore her threadbare white nightgown, a bit stained and ripped, but still pretty. Mary loved Chloe, and Mary hoped Chloe loved her too.
Mommy was supposed to make Mary lunch when Daddy was out at work, but Mary never got her lunch. She never mentioned this to Daddy- she couldnt speak, anyways, so why bother? Mary was ok without lunch. Daddy gave her dinner and breakfast, so she didnt need a midday meal. But it still made her hungry.
One day, Chloe had a great idea. "Cmon, Mary. Maybe we can go out and find Mommy, and she'll make us lunch." The doll peered up from the arms of Mary, staring. "Daddy didnt lock the door this time."
Mary was doubtful. Daddy didnt seem to want her out.
"Cmon, Mary. Be a good girl and lets find Mommy."
Mary walked to the door, and turned the old, brass handle. With a quiet shreak, it opened, revealing the slender flight if stairs, coated with muddy footprints.
"Cmon, Mary." Chloe pointed. "Mommy must be down there."
Mary was a little frightened, now. Would Mommy like her? Would Mommy hold her and brush her hair, like in all the books?
"Cmon, Mary." the doll urged.
Mary stepped down the flight of stairs, her bare feet tickled by the mud. As she walked, she spotted the old grey plaster walls, crackled and worn. She spotted the broken tubebox TV, up on a lonesome shelf. She spotted the dirty grey recliner, and the empty cans of beer. But she didnt see Mommy.
"Cmon, Mary. Maybe Mommys in the kitchen." Chloe pointed, to a oak door. Mary stepped through, but didnt see much. She saw knives on the counter, and a old stove and fridge. There was a window, showing the remains of a browned garden.
"Look at that, Mary." the doll pointed.
Mary looked up, spying a old ventilation shaft.
"Cmon, Mary. Maybe Mommys in there."
Mary climbed up the counter, avoiding the knives as best as she could. If she got on the fridge, then she could reach the vent.
"Cmon, Mary." the doll urdged. The little girl placed her doll on top of the fridge, and clambered up after, nearly slipping and falling, but she was ok. Her fingers laced in the vent lattus, as she looked in.
Something dully gleamed at the back of the vent.
"Do you see her, Mary?"
Mary shook her head, and lifted up Chloe, so she could see the gleaming thing.
"Mary, if you take the lattus off, i can get it for you." the doll peered up.
Mary wasnt sure that sge wanted the dull, gleaming thing at the back of the vent. But Chloe wanted it.
"Cmon, Mary."
Mary stated still.
"Cmon, Mary. Be a good girl."
Mary obediently pulled the lattus away. Two screws were missing at the bottom- it was easy to pull it open. She pushed her doll in, and waited.
After a minute, the gleaming thing was pushed out, and skittered across the fridge, landing on the ground with a tinny clang.
Mary peered over the edge, peering at the knife below. It was a little chipped, crusty, and brownish- someone used it, and never washed it clean. In her books, you were always supposed to wash your dishes and spoons after using them.
"Cmon, Mary. We still need to find Mommy." the doll allowed the girl to pick her back up, as she carefully climbed back down, her feet touching the stained linoleum floor, as she grasped the knife. The handle was black, and has a small snake imprinted on it. Chloe stared at it silently, for the longest time, her orange eyes filled with a emotion that Mary was too young to understand.
"Cmon, Mary." the doll spoke again.
Mary stood back up, and continued, leaving the kitchen, holding the dirty knife in her hands. Chloe didnt want her to put it with the other knives. Chloe was her best friend.
Mary pushed the door back open, and headed out, under the dolls instruction, and headed down another little hall. On the side, there was another door, but on the end of the hall, there was a big dent in the plaster, as if something hit it really hard. The little girl stepped closer, and peered at the dent. The plaster was old and falling away, so whatever hit it made it worse.
"Cmon, Mary. We gotta find Mommy." the doll was upset, now. Mary didnt want her friend to be upset, as she pushed open the door, into the other room.
There was a big bed in the center of the room, pushed to the wall, and two dressers. There was a little vanity, like in her storybooks, with a big mirror.
Mary stepped closer to the mirror, staring at the cracks along one side, then finally, at herself. Mary studyed her long, tangled red hair, and her hazel eyes. Chloe stared with her, peering up at a little picture that was taped to the mirror.
"Look, Mary. Its Mommy."
Mary peered at the picture, her fingers shaking as she pulled it off.
A smiling woman stared back from the photo for all eternity, her pearly white teeth flashing. Her hair was a deep red, with her hazel eyes almost looking orange in the light of the camera flash. Her race was sunken and sallow, and her collarbone was protruding. She was happy, but not healthy. If she was healthier, she would look just like Chloe.
Then, there was the noise of the truck.
Mary froze.
"Cmon, Mary!" the doll seemed to ve frantic. "Thats Daddy...!"
Mary stayed still.
"Mary, Daddys gonna see you out of your room! Daddy will be so angry...!"
Mary stayed still.
"Mommy needs her good girl to run, Mary!"
Mary ran.
Her feet hit the stairs, as she clutched the knife and the photo and Chloe, her heart pounding as loud as the door as it slamned open. As she reached the top of the staurs and ducked into her room, closing the door, she heard the footsteos behond her. The footsteos of Daddy, who knew Mary wasnt a good girl. Mary was a bad girl. Mary went out of her room. Mary was going to get punished. Her back to the door in terror, Chloe clung to her as Daddy approached the door.
There was silence, for the longest time.
Then, the sound of the bolt clicking into place.
Mary didnt get dinner that night.
"Cmon, Mary." Chloe stared up at the little girl, wanting her to follow. Mary watched as her doll climbed up the wall, pointing at the little window. "Before Daddy gets back from work. I bet you want to see Mommy, right?"
Mary nodded. She had lived her whole life without seeing mommy, or eating the lunches Mommy was supposed to make her when Daddy was out. She was curious to see Mommy. She wanted to see if Mommy looked just like her. She didnt see Mommy downstairs.
Mary pushed the little bed over, and climbed up on it, pushing her fingers against the window. With a old creak, it pushed open, as Mary pulled herself up and out, onto the roof of the cottage.
She blinked, staring at the bright sunlight. Mary wasnt supposed to go out when Daddy left. Mary wasnt supposed to go out at all. The world was so bright, compaired to the little attic. So bright. Mary wasnt supposed to leave the room, either. But Mary was a bad girl. And she was Chloes good girl.
Chloe was on the edge of the wooden roof now, looking down. "Mommys over here, Mary. Come see."
Mary blinked. Mommy must be in the garden, the sad, lifeless brown garden.
"Come, Mary."
Mary took a few steps foward.
"Mommy wants to see you."
Mary continued walking, her eyes fixed on the edge of the roof, untill she was at the edge.
"See, Mary?"
Mary peered at a beautiful patch of clovers, under the window, hidden by the browned plants above. She didnt see them when she was in the kitchen.
"Mommys under there."
Mary stared to where her mother layed, under her blanket of sweet clovers, warm in the cold morning, while her spirit rested comfortably in the doll.
"Mommy wants to see you."
The clovers glittered with dew.
"Be a good girl, Mary. Mommys waiting."
Mary, without hesitation, stepped off.