I wasn’t originally meant to be hers, but now, I would never want to change the past. I was bought as a gift to a little girl about nine years ago. In the trunk of the car, Baby, another present along with me, and I sat and waited to arrive at our new home. After a long drive, the trunk finally opened and I saw a little girl about the age of eight peek into the car. Her eyes landed on baby and I could see the glow in her eyes, the hope that baby was for her.
The lady that had bought me reached down and pulled me out and handed me over to the little girl. I looked at her girl and I could see that the glow in her had vanished, and a fake smile replaced her real one. I then heard the lady say that I was originally meant for another girl, but she had confused the age and realized that my new owner was older then she expected; Baby was not the proper toy for her age.
My new owner’s older brother took me from her and smiled at me. He supposedly could “talk” to stuffed animals and dolls. He tried to convince my owner that I was better than Baby. he had said that this was the first stuffed toy that wasn’t an animal, but rather a human figure. My owner frowned and shrugged looking away.
Later that night, I was left alone from my new owner while they took Baby to her new home. I sighed and stared at the ceiling until she got home. When she did get home, her face showed dissatisfaction. “I don’t like her,” I heard my owner say; “It was so much fun playing with Baby, it’s not fair!” she ranted to her brother. “But she’s one of a kind! Oh and she says that her name is Goldilocks.” He tried to get her to understand that I was special, not that I felt very special at that time.
After a while, a soft smile appeared on her face and she ran her small finger through my short, thick, cloth made hair. “Goldilocks” she whispered. I felt slightly relieved and listened to the two siblings talk about how and where I could be added into their imaginary world. They introduced me to their 34 other stuffed animals, which all had names, different personalities, different voices, and also different accents and languages, my owner was bilingual, therefore so were many of the stuffed animals.
I quickly learned their first language, which was Bangla, and the story line of their world. They slipped me into the story and gave me a high girly voice. I swiftly became Shati’s best friend, in and out of her imaginary world. Her love and care for every one of my new friends and me were astonishingly strong. They gave everyone equal parts and made every single one of the 34 dolls special in their own way.
“No! Goldilocks!” Shati screamed as she fought the enemies. I was hit and wounded. I could see Elmo, my secret crush, fighting next to Shati. I tried to get up but the oxygen was running low. We were in space, no air, nothing. I could see the rocket from a distance; I tried to make my way to the rocket but to no avail. I could hear the screams of my friends as they fought hard against the enemies.
“Shati, Help…!” My voice was barely a whisper. I could not move anymore. tears rolled down my cheeks. I saw her running towards me, leaving the others to fight. “Goldilocks! No, no you’re okay, you’ll be fine, I promise.” She cried and tried to get me to the rocket. But I was older than her. I was eleven, and she was nine. This was not going to be possible. She would not be able to help and everyone else was busy fighting.
Suddenly we were jolted out of the world and back on Shati’s bed. “No!” She screamed at her brother. “Stop it! I don’t want her to die! You’re so mean!” She began to cry. I watched in surprise as my owner sobbed and hit her brother with her tiny fists. Her brother began to laugh and tried to calm her down. “It’s not real, Shati, calm down! There has to be someone that gets hurt right? She’s not going to die, but not everything is going to be perfect.”
She shook her head and grabbed, me pulling me into her arms and holding me close. “It’s real to me! Goldilocks is my best friend. Sure she could be annoying, jealous, and crazy at points, but I still love her! You can’t just make her be so hurt; if you do I won’t play anymore!” At that moment, right after she had said that, I had an urge to scream out “You’re my beeeest friend!” and hug her tightly, just like in the imaginary world. She was most definitely special; I could feel the heat of her love rolling off of her. I smiled to myself and let her hold me until she didn’t need to anymore.
The adventures went on just as the years did, more and more stuffed animals being added which more and more friends to be added. I was now in a distance, I mean, I was always in every game we played, but I was not the main character anymore. I could still feel the love she had for me, but it was not as strong as before.
I was still her best friend in both worlds, but I knew that it was soon to change. We continued our adventures, preparing ourselves to fight against the evil Rocky, a monster that no one know looked like, just that he was the most frightening and dangerous creature in the universe. Super powers were added and the adventures were more intense. While everyone went out to fight, I stayed behind. I was slowly losing the main role. As she grew older, further activities came into her life, and her time was limited with me.
I watched her grow from a little eight year old girl to a fourteen year old. By that time, our adventures had gone down to once a month at most. She was growing up. My owner; my best friend was growing up from her small imaginary world
Now she is seventeen, going onto eighteen, and even though her brother and she have grown up and the adventures have stopped, the love has never washed out. It always feels amazing when I watch the two siblings sit together on the bed talking and slowly drifting back to the imaginary world, picking me or another one of our friends up and slipping back into our world. Time to time, she will pick me up and hold me close, talking to me even though she knows I can’t act in response. I know at heart, she is still that little girl that I watched grow up.
Now I watch her every day from my little spot on the bed as she goes through her everyday life, the up and down emotions, and also the struggles. Letting her hold me when she needs it; I watch her and I listen to her rant on and on about nonsense into thin air. She might not know it anymore, or might not remember our times together, the memories that have faded; I will always remember every small detail till the day she doesn’t need me anymore; she will always be my home.