I wrote this not long ago, as a writing excersise just for fun, for NaNoWriMo. I hope you like it!

In a big house on Corner Street, in a pink frilly bedroom underneath an unmade pink frilly bed, where all the dust bunnies went to hide, sat a little stuffed doll with yellow yarn hair and pink bows that tied her yarn hair into pigtails. Her blue button eyes shone like the glow in the dark stars that the little girl who slept on the bed right above the doll’s head had taped on the ceiling long ago. Her lovingly stitched smile was contagious, and she was made to make any little girl happy. Her box said so. But this little girl had forgotten her.

  The doll’s name was Dolly, and she had been laying underneath the bed for quite some time. She had been laying there when the little girl had cried because she couldn’t find her doll (at that point Dolly had been sure the little girl would find her), and she had been laying there weeks later when the little girl’s mother presented her with a new doll, with real hair and skin that felt smooth like the little girl’s own skin, not a stuffed white fabric. She had befriended the dust bunnies and said hello to Teddy, the little girl’s brother’s forgotten stuffed bear, and layed there in distress for weeks.

   If she was made to make the little girl happy, she had obviously not done her job because she hadn’t made the little girl happy enough. If she had, the little girl would have searched for longer. But she hadn’t. She hadn’t made the little girl happy enough, and perhaps the little girl didn’t love her anymore. Maybe the little girl wouldn’t even remember Dolly even if she saw her. Dolly’s little stuffed heart ached with longing for the little girl’s hugs and kisses, but her hugs and kisses were now devoted to the new doll. Dolly wasn’t good enough.

   The doll missed the days when the little girl had tea parties with her and the other dolls, and when the little girl had tucked her into her rocking cradle, covered in a soft pink blanket to match the little girl’s own blanket. She missed everything; she was sick of the dust bunnies and even Teddy, who prefered riding in a spaceship made with cardboard boxes than having a tea party.

  The color in her cheeks had started to fade, her smile had started to droop, and her little button eyes now glistened with tears. This was not how it was supposed to be. Her box had said she was the perfect playmate, and instead she was stuck with the dust bunnies. And Teddy.

  But one day, when Dolly had been taking a restless nap (mostly because she was laying on the floor), her arms limp, and she had just about given up, the little girl’s big brown eyes appeared, right in front of her. Hanging upside off of her bed, the little girl’s braided pigtails fell past her shoulders, tickling Dolly’s nose. The little girl gasped. “Dolly!” She exclaimed.

  The little girl sat up and crawled off the unmade bed, which she had been trying to make up, under her mother’s orders, of course. Kneeling down and lifting the bed skirt, she reached under the bed and retrieved Dolly. She wrapped the doll in a hug, kissing her soft yarn hair. “I missed you,” she whispered. Then she sat the doll on the bed, her hands on her hips. “Why did you run away?” She asked her. “Oh, I don’t care! Oh, Dolly, it’s so good to have you back!”

  She ran out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and to the kitchen, where her mother was making lunch. Her bed would have to wait. “Mommy! Mommy, mommy, look!” Her mother looked up a moment from spreading peanut butter on a slice of bread. “Oh, look who it is!” She set her butter knife down and leaned over to give the little girl a peck on the cheek. “Where did you find her?”

“Under the bed. She must have been playing hide and seek.”

“She must have.”

  Seating herself at the kitchen table, Dolly in a seat next to her, she happily munched her sandwich. “Oh, Dolly, just wait until you meet Sally! She’s my new doll. I’ve told her so much about you. Especially your hair. It’s so soft, and Sally’s is always a tangled mess.” She paused to take a sip of milk. “She never brushes her hair,” she explained.

  Dolly’s cheeks grew rosier, her smile broader, and once again, her eyes shone. From upstairs she could hear the little girl’s brother. “Teddy!” He exclaimed. The little girl’s mother put her hands on her hips. “It seems the toys are coming out of hiding today,” she told the little girl. The little girl smiled and gave Dolly’s hand a squeeze.