THE SINGING DOLL

Francine was ready to leave, but before she left she saw on a table next to her bed a singing doll: a very beautiful crafted toy she received a long time ago.

She pulled the cord of the toy waiting to hear the melody, but no sound was heard.

"You should sing for me, as you always do little doll" Francie said "That's the reason somebody bought you, isn't it? Are you tired? You can't, you're a toy, with just one simple purpose..."

Francine took the doll in her arms, and while she continued sailing in the waters of her thoughts, she took a look at those empty eyes of wax.

"Well...it's true: I'm too old to play with you, I'll be thirteen the next month...and maybe I should grow up a little, and don't think I have not tried, but something always stops me...whenever there is a storm and the house is empty, your companion makes me feel safe...that I'm not losing my mind, but then again...I'm talking to a doll..."

What a wave of emotions she felt, too hard to control, too hard to handle. She felt the tears falling from her deep blue eyes, now turning red. She reached a handkerchief to clean her face.

Then her eyes rested again on the wrist, this time from a distance, and the thoughts still in his agitated mind.

"You used to sing for fun, that made happy, that made me smile, but...why am I asking you to sing anyway? Even if you could, I'm not sure if that could light my day as you used to..."

Then, someone came into her room.

"Francine, are you ready?" It was her mother, checking if her daughter was ready to the tonight's event.

"Yeah mom, I am, I'm just ..."

"Yes?"

"Mom, my voice is a little tired, I don't know if I can't make it tonight"

"Do you dare to start this again Francine"

'I swear, I can't sing today"

"You always say that! Are you conscious that they paid you just to do that? Singing? Do you think we are here for free?

"Mom, I..."

"I do not want to hear any more excuses young lady: we're going to the stage, and that's all"

She could not protest too much, Francine knew that only had a job: singing in order to pay for her home, for her clothing. She had to be that little singing doll everyone wants to listen to, a singing doll with one single purpose...