james and the doll
Hello, I finally dare to put a story here. It sort of explains why he jumps into bins later in the series. I want to thank the_reverand for inspiration and betareading and thehunter for an entry in her lj on dolls. :) I even tried an illustration, I simply added it.
James shook all over. He stared at the little item in his hand. Oh no, what had he done? He couldn't believe it. With a groan he let himself fall back against the wall of the shop he had just been in. The very shop he had left with something that had cost more than anything he had purchased in his whole life. His heart raced and his tiny hand clutched at the little prize he had carried out of the shop. Oh no. Why? Why? Why? But he knew the answer.
The castle lay silently in the meadows when he returned late at night. Everyone was asleep, and it was unlikely that anyone had missed him at dinner. The way things were developing, everyone was probably glad not to have him around so that no one counted the bites they were taking, reprimanded them for every second helping and crawled on the floor after the meal like a human vacuum cleaner, trying to get hold of every morsel that would mean a waste of food, stuffing it into his mouth. They thought he was weird. But couldn't they see? Their waste, their luxury, their senselessness, it had to cost the Earl his fortune one day! To prevent this was his goal, and he didn't care what everyone thought! The Earl would never have to suffer like him when he was out on the streets....
And now this. Sitting in his lonely, cold room in the attic he stared at the small doll in his hands. He had seen it in the window of the shop, a "Special Edition". Long blond locks, slim, beautiful blue eyes... he hadn't even thought twice... had gone inside... bought the thing... and now it sat on his palm. Looking like him. "Just like him!" James whispered with a deranged smile and felt tears run down his face while he softly petted the golden hair. Then he carefully placed the little Earl on the night table and stared at it for a long time. Suddenly he was on the floor. His small fists were banging the tiles, then attacking his own head, his legs, his chest. "Why!? I'm such a fool!" He grabbed one of the old newspapers he had stored under his bed, rolled it up and raised it over the small doll. The immobile face smiled at him, the painted blue eyes sparkled softly. With a thud the paper roll fell on the floor. "So much like him...but he smiles at me..." whispered James and stroked the hair with a shaking hand. Then he balled it into a fist. "I will keep it, but I will pay for this! I must try harder. And no more fresh food for me! Maybe if I eat from the bin..." He swallowed hard, then nodded vigorously. "Too late to feel sorry. I'm sure rotten fruit is as good as fresh! I am going to like it!" He crawled into his bed. When he reached out to turn off the light he smiled at the little doll. "Good night Earl." And the doll smiled back until the night swallowed it.
James shook all over. He stared at the little item in his hand. Oh no, what had he done? He couldn't believe it. With a groan he let himself fall back against the wall of the shop he had just been in. The very shop he had left with something that had cost more than anything he had purchased in his whole life. His heart raced and his tiny hand clutched at the little prize he had carried out of the shop. Oh no. Why? Why? Why? But he knew the answer.
The castle lay silently in the meadows when he returned late at night. Everyone was asleep, and it was unlikely that anyone had missed him at dinner. The way things were developing, everyone was probably glad not to have him around so that no one counted the bites they were taking, reprimanded them for every second helping and crawled on the floor after the meal like a human vacuum cleaner, trying to get hold of every morsel that would mean a waste of food, stuffing it into his mouth. They thought he was weird. But couldn't they see? Their waste, their luxury, their senselessness, it had to cost the Earl his fortune one day! To prevent this was his goal, and he didn't care what everyone thought! The Earl would never have to suffer like him when he was out on the streets....
And now this. Sitting in his lonely, cold room in the attic he stared at the small doll in his hands. He had seen it in the window of the shop, a "Special Edition". Long blond locks, slim, beautiful blue eyes... he hadn't even thought twice... had gone inside... bought the thing... and now it sat on his palm. Looking like him. "Just like him!" James whispered with a deranged smile and felt tears run down his face while he softly petted the golden hair. Then he carefully placed the little Earl on the night table and stared at it for a long time. Suddenly he was on the floor. His small fists were banging the tiles, then attacking his own head, his legs, his chest. "Why!? I'm such a fool!" He grabbed one of the old newspapers he had stored under his bed, rolled it up and raised it over the small doll. The immobile face smiled at him, the painted blue eyes sparkled softly. With a thud the paper roll fell on the floor. "So much like him...but he smiles at me..." whispered James and stroked the hair with a shaking hand. Then he balled it into a fist. "I will keep it, but I will pay for this! I must try harder. And no more fresh food for me! Maybe if I eat from the bin..." He swallowed hard, then nodded vigorously. "Too late to feel sorry. I'm sure rotten fruit is as good as fresh! I am going to like it!" He crawled into his bed. When he reached out to turn off the light he smiled at the little doll. "Good night Earl." And the doll smiled back until the night swallowed it.