dollface | melanie martinez

𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞

crybaby and clara grew close fast.
they spent every minute of the day together.

during the day, when clara's parents or governess were around, crybaby would return to her doll form. as far as clara could understand, this meant that crybaby could see and hear everything going on around her, but could not react, because she was a doll.

when clara and crybaby were alone in clara's bedroom together, or home alone, crybaby would revert to her human form, which clara far preferred. this meant playing games together; sometimes outside in the garden, much to the little girl's delight, but a lot of the time they played with clara's toys.

clara didn't mind.

any time spent with crybaby made her feel on top of the world.

whenever mama and papa shouted at each other, crybaby was clara's new angel; now it was crybaby who would hold the small child to her chest and stroke her hair soothingly as she cried.

but nobody is perfect,
and neither was crybaby.

✦ ✦ ✦

clara and crybaby were sat in her bedroom together, deeply engrossed in the middle of a teddy bear tea party when a roar from downstairs made her jump, tumbling backwards into crybaby.

"clara!"
her papa's voice hollered from downstairs.

clara gulped nervously. papa shouting was never good.
"i'll go see what it is- change back into a doll, quick," she said anxiously, her hand brushing against crybaby's shoulder as she hurried to the door and downstairs.

downstairs, papa stomped about furiously, while clara could hear mama's gentle crying drifting in through the open window from outside.

"what is this?" he snapped, pointing at a shattered vase on the ground.

clara stared at it in surprise for a moment. that was one of mama's favourite vases.
then she answered truthfully, "that wasn't me, papa."

"don't give me that shit," papa growled, "i know what you did to the garden too."

"the garden-?"

clara's wrist was roughly grabbed by her father as he dragged her through the parlour and the gate to the garden.

"what the fuck is this?" he hollered, gesturing towards destroyed hedges, flattened flowerbeds and turfed grass.

"that wasn't me!" clara shouted back. "papa, i- believe me- i didn't do that!"

papa opened his mouth to shout something back but before his brain formulated a response, mama shrieked from the other side of the garden.

"arthur, come and look at this!"

papa shoved clara in mama's direction. as clara drew closer, she saw with a sharp intake of breath what mama was crying over;
the pretty little birds that mama fed every day at sunrise were lying on the ground, unnaturally still.

"poisoned," mama hissed. "someone poisoned the bird feed."
she shot clara a positively venomous look.

clara's jaw dropped as tears sprung to her ears. "mama- i would never-"

of course, clara was telling the truth. she may not have had many friends, she may not have been brought up through the best methods,
but she was not a despicable child.

generally, she had good intentions, and would certainly never poison innocent birds without good reason.

"likely story," papa snarled, his hand moving towards her in a way that filled the small child with fear.

by the time clara returned to her room, her pale baby skin was already forming bruises.

as soon as crybaby saw her, she became human again, springing towards the quietly sobbing little girl.

"oh my fu-" crybaby breathed, taking in the state of the child. "baby, soft skin turns into leather... what happened, dollface?"
she dropped down onto her knees to comfort her friend.

"m- mama and papa th- think it was me w- who broke the vase," clara wept. "and d- destroyed the garden. a- and... poisoned the birds. but crybaby, it w- wasn't me, i swear..."

clara's eyes were too blurry with tears to notice how crybaby's face paled at those words.

"i can make sure those things will never happen again," she promised, kissing clara's forehead.

clara didn't question it.