dollface | melanie martinez

𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧

clara's grandmother's house was as large and grand as her own.

clara had liked grandmother lizzy. she didn't visit often, but whenever she did the woman would give her cookies and milk and pretty dolls to play with.

as she stepped into grandmother lizzy's house, she saw her whole family stood around, muttering to each other and staring at expensive-looking paintings and vases.

clara stepped a little closer to mama, tugging on the sleeve of the woman's gown.

"not now, clara," mama snapped, shaking her daughter away. "go entertain yourself. don't bother anyone."

clara nodded meekly, and clutched her crybaby doll a little tighter to her chest as she thought about what to do.

"uhhhh... we'll go upstairs," she murmured after a few moments, making her way over to the grand marble staircase in the middle of the entrance hall of grandmother's manor. upstairs, she knew, was where grandmother kept all her dolls.

"look! this is grandmother's doll room," clara said excitedly to crybaby. "you can come human now," she added after a moment.

crybaby shot up in height, her porcelain skin becoming softer as she nodded in approval, staring around the room clara had just brought her into.

a room of relative size, wall to wall crammed with heaving wooden shelves vintage-style toys. there were all sorts, from rushtons to teddy bears, but the most prominent by far was clearly dolls; a ginormous dollhouse sat proudly in the middle of the room, and a whole display cabinet on the far side of the room was devoted to china dolls.

"this is grandmother's doll room," clara said again, her eyes bright. "i haven't been here in a while but it's so pretty. don't you think?"

she watched crybaby looking around the room in awe. her friend reached out a hand towards the shelf of plush toys, almost like a child, picking up a rabbit rushton toy.

"this is a very pretty room, dollface," she breathed, her hazel eyes shining.

while crybaby looked at all the plush toys, almost in a trance, clara found herself gravitating towards the big cabinet of china dolls, as she usually did. as she picked up a doll wearing a satin mint dress, she wondered who would end up owning all of grandmother's dolls now that she was gone.
clara hoped it would be her.

she set down the doll she was holding to pick up a smaller one; a little boy with dark hair and eyes, dressed in striped blue-and-white cotton pyjamas.

it looked familiar.

she frowned,

and stared into its eyes for a moment;

they seemed to expand,

and suddenly

she was consumed by them-

images were flashing before her eyes,

noise surrounding her-

darkness;-

✦ ✦ ✦

——

"he's dead, arthur, our son is fucking dead!"

"well what happened? children don't just die for no reason."

"i don't know! i went into the nursery and he- was just lying there in his cot!"

—-

"...gathered here today in memory of..."

—-

"we can't tell clara. we can't let her know."

"whyever not?"

"she'll be too young to remember him. she has no need to know about this. she shouldn't have to go through the pain we are going through."

"but-"

"no. you are not to notify her that robin ever existed, do you hear me? never."

—-

"he's gone. he's gone too."

—-

✦ ✦ ✦

"clara- dollface- wake up- shhh, sh sh-"

clara was back in the toy room, with crybaby kneeled over her.

"my head hurts," she murmured, sitting up. as she did so she saw the doll she had been holding, lying on the ground next to her.
her eyes widened in fear, and she scrambled away from it, backing herself into a wall.

"what is it?" crybaby asked, concerned.

"that doll, crybaby- it's alive, like you- that doll is robin!"