•Your Name: Wynter Bailey (Said like "Winter Bayilie) AKA ♥Toto B♥
•Your Age: Almost 12
•The Story's Title: One Sweet Peach
•Your Doll's Name: もも (MoMo)
•Doll's Nickname: Mo
•Doll's picture goes here (Feel free to add a picture of yourself, too!)
•Doll's story:
~•♥•~
Once Upon A Doll will be open all year, through 2010-2011, and will stay posted for other people to see and enjoy. Any new entrees will be blocked after the finishing date. Thank you! To enter, fill out the form below, then copy and paste it into a comment titled "Once Upon A Doll _____" (Your name goes in the blank space,) here. Your story might be posted on Life In Resin's Once Upon A Doll! Volks© has stories to share, too, right here. It's good to team up ^^ Let's have some Dollfie fun!
•Your Name: _____________
•Your Age:
•The Story's Title:_____________
•Your Doll's Name: _____________
•Doll's Nickname: ____________
•Doll's picture goes here (Feel free to add a picture of yourself, too!)
•Doll's story:
STORIES POSTED SO FAR:
Submitted by: ♥Wynter.B♥ AKA ♥Toto B♥
Age: 11
Doll's Name: Terra
The story: A Lighter Soul
Terra used to fight in the war at age 14 against his own will. Now 17, he is scarred by the memories of warfare, death, and betrayal. A confused and angry teen, he committed the crime of stealing, and began to earn the scathing name of “Blonde thief.” One day, he met an MSD girl named MoMo, who told him that he should stop stealing. Her voice was not unkind, but firm, and without the slightest trace of fear.“I’ve heard of you before,” she told him. “But you’re not taking anything from me.”
Turns out, MoMo took something from him that day – his heart. Terra stopped stealing, stopped grieving, and stopped remembering – he learned to live and let go, to love and to protect. MoMo and Terra’s relationship grew. Terra’s golden-blonde bangs had been so long that they covered half his face in shadow, but now, unafraid to show his feelings, Terra cut them short. By doing so, his hair grew shades lighter, and so did his soul.
~♥~
Age: 11
Doll's Name: MoMo
The story: A Miracle In truth, dolls have always freaked me out. But then one day - at the Sakura Con 2009, Seattle WA - I saw these two amazing dolls, one male, of female. They enchanted me. For some reason, I felt no fear.
“What are their names? What are they?” I had asked. The girl behind the counter, her hair lapping at her shoulders, smiled and said,
“BJDs. They are ball jointed dolls.”
“Ball joint dolls,” I whispered, testing the name on my tongue. I was only 10 then, but I already knew. This was it. Leaving behind all the porcelain dolls that just stared, all the Barbies that never amounted to anything, and all the Bratz that never made since, I closed my eyes and knew, just knew that this was going to go far.
A few weeks passed. A month. Then two. I began to realize something was missing. Then it hit me – the doll. I needed the doll. Confused, I searched it up, and stumbled upon something promising called “Mint On Card.”
I clicked.
There. There was my doll. Among hundreds to choose that beamed and glowed at me from all sides of the screen, it was her. An MSD-size Asleep Eidolon BJD Mo. I knew it was her, from the bottom of my heart. She was the one.
Another year passed in a restless blur, swathed in thoughts of the doll I could not have. Christmas was in less than two weeks. A loss of money gaped on the horizon, as relentless and strong as my everlasting longing, and mixed with a dark and sodden, gray, dull hope.
The day of Christmas Morning came. I closed my eyes and crossed my fingers, knowing already what I was to see – and it was there.
A big, fat, glorious nothing.
I smiled. It was okay. If it wasn’t meant to happen, it wasn’t meant to happen, and that was okay. It-it was okay, wasn’t it? My smile tapered slightly. I struggled to keep it there.
My little brother tore into his stocking, crying with glee at each passing item. I came slower, as I always did; hesitant and careful. I spread, slow as ever, apart the material. My hand slid in and met what I never thought I would feel. I felt tears bubbling up in my eyes as I pulled them out, relief washing over me.
A pair of BJD shoes sat atop my pale, open palms; I almost-black hair fell around my translucent olive face to hide my huge, glossy black eyes of their moisture.
I reached in again and pulled yet another item out, my eyes almost spilling over at the sight that met them. Clothes! Real clothes! Real, live, BJD clothes. I could not believe my eyes. Was I really holding a pink jacket? And what about that lovely beaded skirt? My mind recoiled at the thought that they where mine. Jaw slightly lowered in shock, my little 11-year-old mind worked out a magnificent truth.
Thank you, universe. Thank you.
“I wanted to get something for you if you ever managed to save up for Mo,” my mom said. I believed in Santa and the spirit of Christmas, as we all did, but everyone in my family knew that most of our stocking gifts were given by the other family members. Dad and I filled up Mom’s every year, and she filled up mine, and I filled up my brothers – it went along like that. And then in the morning, the great Snow Spirit added one or two things, then dropped off the rest. I always got a letter or note, hand-writ on a thin, jagged piece of paper or sometimes a carefully decorated card.
“I can’t believe I have real BJD clothes,” I sobbed, big eyes even wider. “If I ever get Mo, then………Then she has something to wear, too.”
~
PART TWO: NO MO.
I curled a stray piece of wrapping paper around my finger, careful not to let the surface bite. Nobody liked paper cuts. The whole of Christmas morning had passed, and still, no Mo. But I cherished the clothes that I had; I had even gotten a wig; a lovely brown and curly one. But I still felt sort of hollow. I was luckier than ever, to have a roof over my head, warm food, family, and really any gifts at all – but still. Mo was calling for me.
Suddenly, a flash of green dappled over red caught my eye. I glanced up, and let out a cry of surprise – two long, spindly packages perched atop our tallest shelf, hardly noticeable from below.
~
PART THREE: A MIRACLE.
My mom gasped, too. “More?” She asked, arising to her feet.
Dad helped pull them off, and read the tags. “To Wynter, the 11, and Keenyn, the 3,” he said, passing us our gifts. Keenyn’s, (my dear little brother’s) round, green eyes got huge, and so did my dark ones.
I watched Keenyn open his first; a tall staff that sprawled out into a little plane. Something he had wanted for a very long time.
Long after he was finished, I tugged at the first piece of my wrappage. It tore open easily, revealing a smooth, silken peach-pink box beneath. Curious, a pulled a little more. Finally, glistening golden words where freed and read:
“Asleep Eidolon – I Come To Myself Only For You.”
My jaw dropped. “No!” I gasped. “No, no, no.” My voice faded.
“What?” My mom’s eyes popped out. “My God – thank the Spirits of Christmas! It can’t be.”
“It – they tricked me,” I stuttered. “They re-used and old box…….they must have……”
Slowly, I pulled open the box, numb to the bone, and slid the face plate off a beautiful 42 centimeter jointed doll. My vision blurred. My head clogged. It was her – my Mo – my one and only. How could it be? Why me, why now, to be given such a miracle?
“What are you going to call her?” My mom asked, obviously a little shaken.
“Mo.” I said, then tried it in double. “Mo-Mo.”
“I like the sound of that,” my dad murmured thoughtfully.
“MoMo- wait!” I cried. “MoMo means peach in Japanese.” I had been taking lessons, and was doing well. Now, in 2010, I can speak, read, and write Japanese without trouble. It is amazing how much one can change in a year.
“Peach,” I could almost hear MoMo sigh. “I am the peach atop your tree, and I fall into your awaiting hands.”
I hugged her to my chest, hardly believing what was really happening. I expected to wake up some time or another, but I never did. Who knows, to this day, maybe I am still living a dream.
♥THE END~
A true story written and created by almost-12-year-old Wynter.B, inspired by MoMo, her loyal BJD; and by Keenyn, her little brother, along with loving parents Raven and Dylan and the Magical Spirit of Christmas.
~♥~
Submitted by: ♥Wynter.B♥ AKA ♥Toto B♥
Age: 11
Doll's Name: Rau
Age: 11
Doll's Name: Rau
The Story: A Wolf In Lamb's Skin
Nobody knows this, but Rau is truly a Lost Soul inhabiting the body of a lifeless teenage girl. Confused with this new life, Rau seeks help from the Forest Spirit, but even the great Tree Being cannot sense that Rau is not truly the girl she is pretending to be. So, at loss with both the Spirit World, her true identity and her heart, Rau is betrayed by her own soul. Only when she stumbles upon a girl named MoMo and her love, Terra, does she hone the slightest bit of hope.
~♥~
Submitted by: ♥Wynter.B♥ AKA ♥Toto B♥
Age: 11
Doll's Name: Hikari
Age: 11
Doll's Name: Hikari
The Story: Cooking Truth
Hikari is a 16 year old girl who has always honed the power to see through lies. Her pretty but lonely mother, Ruliela, was abandoned by her husband when Hikari was only 10. Ever since then, they have given up the bottom half of their tiny small-town cottage to use as a bakery, so they will make enough money to keep their house. Ever since her father had left them, Hikari used baking to melt away the stress. The sweetness she created helped to burn away the bitter regret. One day, Hikari sees through a lie to a truth she should not have – and it changes her life forever. ~♥~
