The Laughing Doll

“Ew!! What an ugly doll! Why did auntie bought such a horrid doll?! I hate it!” Those were the first words I hear from my owner, and it was not the last.

My owner was spoiled, living like a princess, who only played with pretty dolls, and throws me around whenever she gets a temper. I was never loved by this “princess” nor was I treated fairly as my stitches began to loosen, my colorful clothes dirtied, my limbs almost torn, and one of my button eyes is missing. I was a tattered old jester doll that can only smile to mask my sadness and pain.

Then one day a new girl came to visit. My “princess” had invited a “peasant” girl, who seemed to make my owner happier than her rich friends. They were having a grand tea party while my “princess” gathers her favorite dolls to join in. My owner saw me and merely kicks me aside as I rolled around on the floor. How I longed to cry, when suddenly I find myself being wrapped by small, warm hands that hold me gently, and a pair of mysterious eyes from the new girl met my damaged smile. I met her face as she dusted off my own, and studies my awful condition with pity. She had such gentle hands, a face of simple beauty, and long ivory hair that mocks the raven. She caress my face o so tenderly, which made me quiver from this strange kindness.

“Don’t bother with that THING, Branni! It’s not invited to our party!” said my owner rudely. The quiet “peasant” girl named Branni said nothing, but simply placed me beside her, though my owner protested, Branni convinced her to let me stay. Neither of them interacted with me, yet I feel so warm beside young Branni’s side. From then on, I was always happy whenever the dear girl visited us; she would hold me, hug me, cherish me, as though I was her favorite toy in the whole world. Then I noticed something. Our “peasant” girl was really a grand “doll maker”. She was skilled in crafting and sewing, and fixed my owner’s favorite doll, which won her friendship before. The “doll maker” asks for permission from the “princess” to fix my broken body. She scoffs and replies, “If you like it so much, then take it! I don’t care what you do with it! Try and turn him into a prince!”

I couldn’t believe my owner’s words, but Branni waisted no time and accepted the challenge. With her skilled hands she picked out bright blues and reds, planned carefully for additions, and sewed with great concentration. She gave me a perfect button to match my other, a cape with bizzare designs, golden bells, my limbs re-attached, and made me new clothes perfect for a jester like me. Branni smiles as she shows me my relfection on the mirror. “Do you like it, Mr. Jester?”

Why . . . I . . . Who is that handsome jester smiling back at me? Surely, this is a dream! But Branni’s warm smile tells me it’s not. It was as if she knew I was happy, but my “princess” was not. My owner pushed Branni away in fury and shouts, “Get out!!! I don’t want to see you again!!! Get out of my sight!!!” Poor Branni was confused, but I have the strangest feeling the “princess” was yelling at me. We were both out of the “princess’s kingdom” while Branni stood outside with me in her arms. With no other choice she walked home with me as her companion. I should feel heart-broken, yet I do not feel sad. I feel . . . glad.

Ever since that day I have been living with Branni in her room, never once returned to my “princess”. Branni had made such wonderful, unique dolls of her own that her own room looked like a real magical kingdom, and I was her grand jester. For years I’ve watched over her: her craftsmanship, her imagination, her kindness, and her tears and laughter. Whenever she was happy she would tell me the good news and hug me tight, and when she was sad she would hug me more, and we would sleep together. Then I noticed something. Young Branni was growing into a fine young lady. Her tiny hands had grown into long, slender hands that still caress me o so gently, and her tiny figure had changed to that of a woman, while her face grows more beautiful everyday. But the more she grew the lonelier she became. She cries in her bed at night and no longer tells me her sad stories. Then, one night, she was so depressed that she tenderly held me and brought me to her face. I could feel her warm tears coming from those mysterious eyes as she spoke in a sing-song voice:

“My dear, dear jester, I am very lonely.

I don’t want to be the hero anymore.

I want to be the damsel, who is rescued

By a handsome prince, or a shining knight.

But I do not want a handsome prince or knight.

I just want someone to take me away

To a magical world, where I can be

A whole new me.”

Such lonely words made my invisible heart beat loudly, and how I yearned to grant her wish. Many days passed since that night, but my Branni stills smiles and felt better after talking with her friends. Then one fateful day Branni brought a guest. Entering her room was my “princess”, who had grown maturely herself yet I could tell she was still the same spoiled child as before. It had been YEARS since my “banishment”, but I knew they had fixed their friendship years ago and continued to see each other. The “princess” studied Branni’s room, marveling at her artwork and crafts, when she spotted me. She approaches me with a blank yet firm gaze for quite a while until she smiles. “My, Branni! You still have this doll? I’m surprised you haven’t got bored of it. You must really like him.”

“He’s special and unique to me, so I’ve always liked him,” replied Branni while my pale face feels oddly warm and my stuffed chest tightens. The “princess” looks at Branni as though she was odd, but smiled and said, “May I have him back?”

“What?” Pardon?

“I like him,” said the “princess” as she turns to stare at me. “Of course, as a child I loved pretty dolls more, but seeing him now and his new look, makes me want him again. You’re really talented, Branni, and I love this new look you had given him. That just makes him more valuable to me because I also love your craftmanship. Truthfully, I was jealous of both of you. I was jealous at how you turn rags into beautiful dolls, and for a moment I used to think this jester loved you more than me because of that. I don’t know why, but it irritated me as a child, and so I got mad. But he looks so wonderful! You really are a genious, Branni!”

I sat there dumbfounded and Branni shocked. I turn my sight towards her and she to me, and during that moment her eyes revealed a broken heart. I was then being carried by the “princess’s” fair hands as she giggles happily. “Please, Branni! He IS my doll. It’s only right you give him back.”

No . . .

Dear Branni placed her hands behind her back, which formed into fists, as she bit her bottom lip while the “princess” spoke again, “You can make yourself a new jester doll, exactly like this one. Afterall, you’re very talented, Branni! I know you can do it easily!”

No . . . .

The “princess” then makes her first step towards the door as I felt my paradise slowly slipping away. I wish to reach out my gloved hand out to my dear Branni, who looks at me with teary eyes. We walked down the stairs as I look past the “princess’s” face and find Branni’s. Stop her! Tell her!! Branni!! Step by step, I was losing my sight of my “colorful kingdom” and of my dear girl. ‘Unhand me! I must return to Branni, my true princess!’ Those were the words I wish to shout, but my stitched smile wouldn’t let me. No! I don’t want this! Branni! Call for me! Say my name!! The “princess” skipped playfully as she held me. Branni, my dear!! I beg of you!! Please!! Branni took a hesitant step, but clutches at her chest. Branni, reach out your hand! I don’t want to leave you! It was as though she had no right to say no, but she looked at me and moved her lips.

I don’t want to leave Branni alone! I’m her grand jester! I’m her true friend! Branni then starts moving her feet and follows after the “princess”, who heads for the door. I don’t want to leave like this, not when she’s so lonely! Please, say my name and I will serve you! That’s right! Branni is my princess, and my damsel still in distressed. I want her to be greedy! I want her to be selfish! I want her . . . to love me more!!!

“Come back . . . Jester . . .”

I could take it no longer.

And at that moment I became something anew. My body had grown with a powerful force of feelings that dwelled inside me. I was no longer a mere puppet on strings, nor was I the same toy jester. The two young ladies looked at me, both in shocked and fear, as I grinned to the “princess”. “So, you wish me back, eh? Well, then let’s play.”

This new body felt strange yet natural to me as I opened a portal and kidnapped the greedy "princess" into an otherly world, where I begin my own game of mischief. I turned to my dear Branni, who looks at me with those beautiful yet fearful eyes. I had my own mixed feelings, too, but I gave her my most charming smile and bowed to her gracefully. There were a million things I wished to say to her, but only a few twisted words come past my painted lips. “If you wish your friend back safely, then you’ll have to play by my rules. Beat my comrades in their own game, and come find me at our castle. I’ll be waiting, my dear Branni.”

I shall grant her wish. I shall give Branni the adventure of a lifetime, entertaining her, testing her, teasing her, and make her my one and true princess. No. My queen. I hear running footsteps following behind, and I knew right away it was my fair lady. I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me, Branni. Now let the games begin.

Cackling with wicked glee I prance away while my “comrades” grinned with insanity.

To be continued . . .