![The Doll Palace Home
[Where Cartoon Dolls Live]](http://ww2.thedollpalace.com/images/tdp_banner.gif) |
|
| Every doll has a story behind... |
|
Want to try to make one or see what other people came up with?! Every story will participate in The Doll Palace ratings. Good stories will be awarded with Dollpoints.
|
|
|
|
All created stories have to follow . We do not allow any sexually related material. The Doll Palace will be enforcing this rule and completely blocking access to the accounts that disregard our policy and create sexually oriented stories.
|
|
|
|
Hi, my name is Allan
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 | Feather {4} |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 5 with 1 vote(s)
|
|
| Created: 2008-03-30 19:10:24 |
|
|
|
--Recap--
The woman had lifted her arm and had slapped Allan straight across the face. Allan didn't face straight ahead but stayed still in the position that the woman's hand had left him. The world went still.
Brian flipped around so that his back was against the gravestone he was hiding against. He saw his chest rise and fall and only noticed how quickly his breathing had become.
-----
Allan stayed still for what felt like hours but only a few seconds had past. Brian stumbled in an upward position, trying to get to his feet. They were numb from shock. He wasn't careful not to make a noise as he left but Allan didn't look round. Brian didn't know what he should do. He couldn't face Allan after what he had just seen and so he ran as fast as he could out of the cemetery.
Alex came running into sight, Jamie wasn't following him. He raced up to his brother with lightening speed and stopped when he were only a few inches away.
"Brian! You're not supposed to leave me like that!," Alex cried in anger. Brian wasn't surprised at his reaction. Alex never liked being separated even if it were for a moment. He stayed silent for a minute. "What if something happened to you and I wasn't there? I would hate for that to happen,"
"But-" Brian interrupted.
"I don't care what Jamie says - Brian," Brian had looked up and Alex noticed his pale complexion. "Something has happened, hasn't it?" Alex asked. Brian shook his head, letting the nest of his hair shake from one side to the other. Alex looked at his brother. They never kept secrets but just when he was about to take a breath to restart another lecture, Jamie ran into view. His blonde spikes drooped a bit where he had been running and his breathing heavy. He bent down and laid his hands on his knees in order to catch his breathe.
"What was that all about, Alex? I didn't know you could run that far, that fast, you should of said and we could of given you a better role than just goalie," panted Jamie.
The twins stayed silent and gave each other a disapproving look.
Allan appeared under the black iron arch. His eyes red and swallon and his nose running. He saw the small crowd of three and hesitantly wiped his eyes and nose upon his school jumper sleeve. He approached them. The others didn't see him coming.
"Hi guys, what are you doing here?" he asked. The three turned round. Brian still pale, Jamie panting and Alex glaring suspiciously.
"Shouldn't we be asking you the same question?" Jamie snapped. Allan looked slightly taken back but smiled gently.
"I'm bring fresh flowers to my older brother's grave. You?"
"Uh-well," he stumbled for his words. "I'm bring flowers to my uh- great great auntie - um- Ninny," Jamie managed.
"Where are the flowers?," Allan asked.
"I - well- uh,"
"-He already put them at her grave," Alex interrupted. Brian nodded.
"Really? I didn't hear you come in," Jamie and the twins looked at each other. Allan dropped the subject. "Nevermind, guess I was day-dreaming again. I'll see you guys tomorrow, OK?," They all nodded. Allan took a step back and waved before starting another run again. Jamie looked at Brian.
"What's up with you?," he asked, noticing Brian's pallor look. Brian shook his head.
"Nothing," he replied. Jamie and Alex shared another facial expression.
--
The night was clear. The moon shone almost as radiantly as the sun had but left a silver thin silver string of light rather than beams and orange glows. The cars came past rarely and the pavement remained silent. A flock of birds flew out a tree but only to land on the building opposite. The streetlights were scattered and far apart and poured out cones of white light onto the dirty cement.
Allan ran. His eyes were watering, streaming, screaming out as the bitter wind froze his tears where they rained. He lent against a shop wall. The lack of lights were giving it an abandoned look and the next streetlight was more than just a few meters away. Allan was hidden from praying eyes of the light.
He slid down the wall and let himself land. He clutched his knees and buried his face. Perhaps he would sleep here tonight but he knew that things would be worse the longer he left. Perhaps he should just never go back but then who would look after the woman. The woman that had felt such loss that she wasn't sure of herself, let alone others.
Some brightly colour sweet paper blew past, shining in the street light. The once clear sky was now filling up with clouds. There would be a storm soon. He sighed. At least if he went home he would be sheltered from the liquid bullets that would soon fire from the sky. He stood up and made his way through the dark streets back home.
The house towered above him, almost intimidating. It wasn't that he was short nor was it that the house was tall. It was the sly angle that the windows were placed and the door that was waiting to swallow you up once you stepped inside. He opened the door, walked in and closed it again. The house was full of a sweet aroma. He knew her trick, his stomach ached because of how much he yearned for food.
He stumbled into the kitchen, neglecting to take off his coat, shoes and school bag. The kitchen gleamed a proud white and was filled with the sweet aroma that had made a home in the corridor. The woman stood in a pink frilled apron and yellow rubber gloves over the sink. She was washing dishes. The tell-tale clatter of pots and pans boasted this. In the centre of the kitchen there was a wooden table covered in a cat decorated table cloth. A single flower in a thin glass vase was placed in the center and a plate covered in a helping of mouth watering pizza and chips. A knife and fork were placed either side. He searched his brain, remembering if his brother liked pizza and chips. He stood in silence, twisting at his watch.
It was only when the woman turned round that she noticed him. She dropped a plate in surprise. It landed with a crash a scatted splintered china across the black and white tiled floor. She smiled. Her hair had been brushed neatly into a pony tail but her features still stayed sharp and crazed.
"Your brother always used to scare me like that," She commented, bending down to pick up the pieces of plate. "Aren't you going to eat your dinner?," She asked, her face still concentrating on the pieces of dropped china. Allan approached the table and sat down. He ate some chips hurriedly and then scoffed some pizza. The woman stood up and dropped the pieces of plate into the bin. "Your brother always had an appetite of a king," she sighed. Allan wondered if his brother ever got ingestion. The woman glanced at the plate of half-eaten food that Allan was working his way through. Her features changed to one of rage and anger in a mini second. She pulled off her apron and put it upon the counter. "Your brother never ate tuna!" She growled. "He always picked it off,". A look of terror crossed Allan's face. He looked down at the remains of his pizza. He hadn't noticed the pieces of tuna that were on top o f the pizza. The woman raised her hand again and swung it over the table, knocking the plate to the floor. Allan swallowed. She had picked up the vase and was about to throw it.
"Mu-" Allan cried but then paused. "Just stop!," He yelled. But the woman didn't stop. Allan backed against the wall, his eyes closed and his face tightened. He stuck his trembling arms in front of his face. She threw the vase and it crashed against his arms. It drew blood and then the pieces fell to the floor. The woman turned round, looking for something else to throw but Allan was on his feet before then. He raced out the room, stepping on broken glass as he ran. He slipped twice but caught his balance smoothly enough to run out. She normally didn't go as far to use something sharp against him. She usually just used her hands or nails and in one case, her teeth but she had never used glasses or knives or broken china.
He ran out the front door and flung himself behind a bush in the front garden. This is where he hid when she became like this. This is where he waited for her to be calm. She never found him here. Memories of him and his brother came back to him as to how he hid in the same bush in order to escape tidying their room. Allan's brother always carried a set of cards with them and he would play black jack with leaves as money. A raindrop interrupted his thoughts as it's cold feeling spread from his hand to around his body. It made he look at his arms. The vase had left a few pieces of glass that had gone through his coat and stabbed at his arms. He winced as he felt the pain.
He took off his coat and shivered as the bullets of water covered him from head to toe and washed away the dripping blood that fell from his arms, wrists and hands. He pulled out some glass with his fingers and did what he could but he knew it was no good. It would need tweezers to get the rest out. There were some tweezers in his first aid box but that was in his room. He was going to return inside later when the woman was asleep and use the spare key that he hid under the mat. He looked up at the sky and closed his eyes. He let the rain water pour down on him and wet his hair so that it stuck to his head. He let the rain wash away the blood and the fear. He wished for the rain to wash him away but he knew that it wouldn't.
Inside the house, the woman knelt upon the kitchen floor. It seemed insulted by the few drops of blood and no longer bragged about how clean it was. She clutched upon the flower that she had thrown at Allen and let he tears mingle on it's petals as if they were dew drops on a fresh spring day. |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
© 2008 The Doll Palace. All rights reserved.
|
|
|
|
| |
