Ever so slowly, so painfully slowly, there came creaking footsteps toward the glittered door. It was unlocked; this was surprising, yet exciting, as it was always locked when he had tried before. He had to reach up rather high to open it, even on tiptoes, as he was quite small for his age. Gripping tight with his small fingers, he pulled the door open and peeked inside the darkened room. There, in the spotlight in the middle, was her. At last. A friend. She looked rather-floppy. Her hands were suspended slightly in the air, chin against her chest, legs hidden under her beautifully dark purple flowing dress.
"Excuse me..." The little ventriloquists doll started. "Miss?" He was curious about her. Approaching her tentatively, he folded his legs beneath him once he had stopped in front of her. "Pardon my intrusion, but..." Then he saw the strings attached to every single one of her pale wooden joints. He was confused as she slowly brought her head up. Her eyes quivered with an unnatural human-like quality. "Why do you have strings?" The doll asked, his mouth making a faint click, click, click and a tap, tap, tap, as he spoke.
"Why don't you?" The puppet replied, her soft voice quiet in the empty room. It was childlike, weary. Sad, even. The doll desperately wanted to explain, but was too afraid of what his Speaker would say-and do-to him.
"I-I. I am terribly sorry, but...I am not allowed to speak of what I am. Perhaps we can talk again, sometime?" The doll wanted-needed-a friend in his lonely, painfully lonely, world. Perhaps he imagined it; the girl seemed to light up a little, seemed a little more happy.
"Yes. I'd like that. I'm afraid I can't move much on my own...Would you mind coming here again?" The doll nodded as she continued, rather frightened and troubled this time, "Please, you need to leave-before my Puppeteer comes back and finds you! It was nice seeing you..." She called, as the doll fled the room, quite happily in fact...