Alma

The following was written as a collaboration between two year six girls after watching a short animation about a young girl called Alma.

Please let them know what you think by commenting below.

Alma

Like an icy winter’s breath from Mother Nature, the wind blew cold and fast. The snow covered the roofs of Paris like flour being sprinkled on a cake. The buildings, grey and empty, stood still, towering and watching over me. Despite the depressing scenes, I skipped merrily down the dark, murky streets, like one of the snowflakes dancing gently on the wind. A vulnerable mouse running closer to the jaws of an awaiting vixen.

Prancing further down the street, I spotted a chalkboard with many different names scrawled across it and scratched my own name in with the others, making mine as neat and clear as I could. That was when I heard a faint and distant click…click…click from the shop behind me. Curiosity getting the better of me I turned towards the noise. There in the mouth of the window, was a doll. ‘Was someone expecting me?’ I asked myself, for the doll had my ruby red coat, sapphire blue bobble hat and my emerald green eyes. Amazed at what stood before me, I raced towards the window, astonished by similarity of the doll. In a blink of my eye, it was gone, like it was never there.

Peering closer into the glass, I tried to find the doll but it was too dark to see. Next, I tried the door, tugging and tugging at the handle. Having no luck, with rage and frustration swelling inside me, I threw a snowball at the stubborn door, before stomping off in anger.

Something made me turn back. I didn’t know if it was the determination in finding that doll or the creak of the door opening. I dashed towards the door, and pushed my way in without hesitation. As I entered, finally seeing the full view of the shop, I was greeted by hundreds of dead doll eyes. These dolls came in all shapes and sizes, some pretty and welcoming, some ugly and evil. Never the less, I had my heart set on my doll. I looked around for a while and then there it was, right in front of me, almost telling me to take her home.

Reaching for her, I suddenly felt something under-foot. Beneath me lay a boy doll, with faded brown eyes and a rusty trike. Being helpful, I picked him up and stood him upright. It raced towards the door with a look of desperation in his eyes, but the time he got there it was already shut. Bang! Bang! Bang! Bashing into the door, the boy got louder and louder and he banged harder and harder, determined to escape his fate. Oblivious to the situation, I turned back to my doll, but once again it was gone, like it was never there.

Looking all over for little me, I searched as the trike boy carried on hitting the door. The noise was becoming unbearable as if he didn’t want me to find my doll. The hope inside me died, unaware of the other dolls glares moving from each other to me. Once again, my doll was there, sitting sweetly on a shelf with the others.

Climbing the shelf, I found many different dolls, but ignored them as they weren’t what I wanted. The thuds of the bike became the rhythm of my heart beat, for my heart was practically bursting with excitement. Reaching and straining, my hand finally found what it wanted.

The doll had also found what it wanted too…

In a blaze of light, blots of colour flashed before my eyes, with the melody of a broken music box ringing in my ears. I slowly became paralyzed as my life flew before my eyes. There I was, sitting on the shelf, but how? Then it hit me with such force I screamed and cried, but no noise came from my mouth and no tears came trickling down my cheeks. I was a doll now, trapped inside a body of plastic. I was gone, like I was never there.

The clicking came again, as another doll came into the window. It waited as the next girl scratched her name. With red hair, sapphire eyes and a coat of flowers, she came to meet her end.

Cecile was her name.

The next time you need a doll, don’t come here. I am still here, after 6 years of waiting for someone to set me free. Don’t try to take a doll home with you, for it might just take YOU instead…

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