.:)(:.
Once again, my heart has become cracked and started bleeding
I've tried to patch it up, but pieces of my memory keep sticking into the crevices
At least let me listen to the sound of the ocean
Your voice
Your words
Make an echo around me and tremble
My memories stop there
If we could only do it again
Staring to the city that becomes blue like on a movie scene
Will you drown me in the deep dark ocean?
Everytime I make up my memories
Every time I remember
There's a piercing sorrow
My memories end there
.:)(:.
Uncle Jinno's tinker shop never came to mind whenever someone asked about her late husband. Late husband, or early husband. Only husband, she decided. Just because her soul was no where to be found didn't mean every mentioned word about him had to pass over like a quick daydream.
Only...he was more than some reverie indulged in while awake.
He was a star at night to point at because it shined brighter than the moon. If that was possible.
He, himself, had told her countless times how she was a moon and he was a fallen angel awaiting a whole-hearted trip back into the heavens. Even if he had to pay a small fee of life, it was worth being able to reach out and grasp her delicate fingers and curl them together with his.
'How sad it was that she passed away.' Their neighbors would speak casually over tea and flower arrangement Sundays. 'She was such a good and honest person.' They would turned heads at the cotton figurine's rags.
Their heads kept spinning; around and around until the relaxing charm of the shops bell sounded by the aged wooden door. Her glass eyes dripped onto their lower eyelids then up to the corners; one by her caruncle, the other else where, to meet a direct gaze with the handsome lad whose presence dispersed the feelings of loneliness in the shop and brightened it a bit.
Her porcelain hand twitched, barely moving an inch to smooth across his cheek. Her amber irises extended for his attention to stay on her.
He took a step creeking on the wood and another to get across. Passing by the shelves populated with forgotten toys and dismantled knickknacks.
Her pupils never left his damp trench coat as he made a swift gesture to feel her frangible arm and remember why he entered the isolated store in the first place. Her painted eyebrows slightly fell when his hand left.
'Come back.' She wanted to state more than ask, knowing the clear answer for a question of that sort. She didn't even want to give him a second opinion. Only one answer could be equal to that sentence; one she knew he would say no matter what.
"What can I do for you boy?" Uncle asked with his cuffs dusting the money box and hiding it back into it's respective dark corner under the counter.
He glanced at the doll seeming to be keeping an eye on him then went to a smaller one on the shelf just underneath. "Do you sell your merchandise that does not belong to a customer?"
Uncle made a confused face, then sucked in one cheek and furrowed an eyebrow. "I can't say I don't. No one has really ever asked for their trash back." He looked up at the young man whose sad eyes pleaded for a different answer.
"Which do you want?"
The young man rose a stiff finger to the doll. The one above seemed to have frowned.
Uncle took a breath through his slender nose and crossed his arms contemplating the thought to give up the precious girl he found just one week ago. He closed his eyes, sighing, "Ok. Fine." He went and grabbed the raven haired beauty off the shelf. He wiped off her violet orbs and the layer of dirt on her pale body.
"I'll give it to you for 15 pounds."
The young man appeared distracted by the other doll. Her face looked more despressed than when he first came in and the doll was further back on the shelf. "Well?"
He shook his head, giving attention back to the elderly man and his begging hand. "O-Oh. Okay."
'I shouldn't, but I want to.' The amber-eyed doll cried.
"Here," he said pushing the notes into the mans sweaty palm.
'This would be very bad. And selfish.' She argued, scooting towards the edge.
"Thank you boy. Have a nice day." The old man ambled to his post behind the counter, doing a happy rocking of his head along to his upbeat rhythm. He licked a thumb and fanned through the few sheets of money. He opened the money box underneath and tossed it in, smiling through every action.
"Yes, you as well." The young man showed a sublte smile, focusing on the japanese doll in his hand. She was beautiful too, but...
'Yes. Yes, look at me and don't go!' The doll exclaimed when his eyes shifted up to her. She was near the dead end by this time and ready for him to take her.
Her eyes dropped when he looked away and started for the door.
'No. No, come back. Please.'
The lad stopped his quick pace at the door, his gripped firm and steady. His neck craned back one last time to see his desired opposite sit carefully on edge of the shelf midway from him. His teeth rested his his lower lip, staring at the perfect girl.
'Yes. Come get me.' The doll said, sitting patiently when he finally took a longer notice of her.
The young lad grimaced, he bit down harder and turned the door handle roughly before stalking out and letting it slam behind.
A crash filled the silent shop after he left. "A- No!"
.
.
.
"C-Co...me...Back...N-Nat-"
Porcelain shards scattered over the old wooden floor boards.
A puddle of water and red ink ran out from the doll.
Her glass, amber eyes were in pieces strewed in her auburn hair.
.:)(:.
I have no idea where this idea came from, but I just started typing then I finished with this.
The words at the top are quoted from the brilliant Kanon Wakeshima's 'Still Doll' and 'Monochrome Frame'.
But I didn't get the idea for the story from them. I didn't put those in until I was done with the whole thing.
I Hope it was nice. Short and Sweet. Or, Short and Sad. Or, Whatever.