The Dollhouse

A Birthday Gift or Two

Ever since I was around the age of ten I would receive a porcelain doll from my grandmother, Catherine, on my birthday and on Christmas, and sometimes she just felt like it. I loved the unique style of the dolls, with their puffy, designed dresses and their angel soft, curly or wavy hair, and I can't forget to mention that oh-so elegant face with the pale white skin, rosy cheeks, classic lips, and piercing eyes. They were old-fashioned and very valuable dolls. Each one held a special place on my selves on the bedroom wall. I treasured them deeply, especially after my grandmother passed away a short while before my sixteenth birthday.

I was the only one who had an interest in the dolls, taking after Grandmother Catherine, who loved them as a little girl. The rest of my family found them quite spooky, with their wide-opened eyes that looked to follow your every move, and their antique look, and their stiff bodies. Nobody would want to come into my room for the fact that those dolls had a home inside, which had ran out of room long ago. Some of the dolls had to stay in their boxes stacked up in my closet, because of lack of self space. I hated to see them packed up like that, but it was better than them getting broke, or getting rid of them - they were all I had to remind me of my grandma.

It was my sixteenth birthday that I received the gift that would change my life, forever. A dollhouse.

My birthday started off like any other birthday. I opened my last birthday package from grandma. The thought made tears swell into my eyes. I could deal without any more gifts, I couldn't deal with no longer having grandma around. I tore off the tape that sealed the smaller box and pulled out another box wrapped in colorful wrapping paper. Another doll, probably the most beautiful doll I have. Her dress was made of a dark purple velvet and black lace. Her hair was a deep red with tight curls. She had deep blue eyes and such rosy cheeks. Her face was pale and elegant. Fragile. In her hand she held a small present.

After examining her and feeling her soft, soft hair, I gently set her down to the side and dragged the bigger box to me, also from my grandma. I tore of the tape and peered down into the box. A dollhouse. Standing up, I reached in the box and drew ot the dollhouse and set it on the opposite side of me from the doll.

"Whatcha get?" asked dad.

"A dollhouse." I looked over at him, confused. "Did grandma Catherine send me someone's present? I'm too old to play with doll houses."

Dad pointed at my new addition to my collection. "But you have dolls?"

I rolled my eyes. "I collect them, dad." I picked up my new doll and read the tag on her wrist. Anise, it said. Pretty name. "They of the no playing verity. Kind of like those toy cars you keep in your glass cabinet in your "study".

Dad glared. 'They're not toys, their models."

"My point exactly," I stated.

He held up his hands in surrender. "All right, you win." He looked back over at the dollhouse. "What did grandma's card say about it?"

I frowned. "All she wrote was, a place to for your friends to call home. Any idea what that means?"

Dad shook his head. "Nope." He suddenly became nervous. "Why don't you take that doll back to your room? Those things give me the creeps." As if to prove his point he shivered.

So I took my new doll and house hand struggled to my room. Dad offered to help, but I didn't want him lifting the heavy dollhouse - he had a bad back. Setting the house in the corner of my room, I opened it up to see empty glass cases on either side of the house. A place to set my dolls that are all stacked in my closet.

The first to go in was Anise, front and center. The I got my others and placed them in the individual cases. I now had space in my closet again.

All too soon, it was time for bed. As I climbed into my warms twin sized bed, I could of sworn I heard a soft clicking sound, like something being locked, or unlocked.

A/n: My new short story since I finished Tigerlily.