NANOWRIMO 2010: Chein-A Doll: Introduction
There exists no space.
No color, no sound, no scent. Consider the scene in question as an arena where there are no players, no audience, no beast to master, and no king to be amused. It is waiting for something to happen.
On the corner of 000 Nothing and 0000 Nothing, there stands a fat little doll of china. Porcelain to the tinkle and cheeky hair that is imperfectly black. She stands there with a faint layer of dust on her shoulders. Her expression is dull and uninterested. She will find nothing here for her, for she sits in a place where nothing exists.
Not until two headlights cut through the nothing with their bright yellow glare, and then a road is produced.
The bus rumbles in slowly. It waits, fuel gasping for air, but the china doll doesn’t move. Finally-
U DAR. U DA CHINA DOLL HOO NEED PICK UP. U GET UP HEER.
The china doll jumps back in alarm. Thankfully, there is nothing to fall on. There is nothing at all. “…I can’t quite understand what you’re saying,” She finally says.
Y NOT.
“I just can’t understand you!” The china doll insists, staring with her mouth open at the bus screaming and sputtering at her, its engine livid with impatience. “You don’t know how to talk!”
U PUT DIS PROBLEM ON ME. U DUN DINK. U DINK IT MY FAULT.
“Well, yeah! I mean, it’s not my fault you can’t speak-”
U NO CAN SPEAK WID PEEPLE. U DINK DEY STUPID. Y U NO STUPID?
“You’re saying it’s-” the china doll begins, outraged, but trails off to a meager “-me, who’s wrong here?”
can’t understand can’t understand it speaking or me hearing no answer not sure confusion confusion can’t understand no connection i refuse to listen
WHAT UR NAME? GET UP HEER.
“My name’s Chein-A Doll,” She offers, “C-H-E-I-N-dash-A-space-D-O-L-L.”
WHERE U GOIN?
“I-what? Shouldn’t you know? You’re the one taking me there.”
I NO DA WAY. U NO WHERE. WHERE U GOIN?
“…High school.”
OK. LAST TIME. WHERE U GOIN?
Chein-A Doll pauses. If her answer is wrong, then she doesn’t know what else she could say. The space around them begins to fade again. The nothing begins to come back. Fear grips her. She can’t remain in the nothing forever.
“I’m going where everyone else is going,” Chein-A Doll blurts out, “it’s the place where we all go at this age. We go there because we have to.” She waits for the bus’ response. Let it be right, let it be right…
GOOD ENUFF. GET ON, GET ON. PEES OF SHIT.
The bus will expect another answer, at a time, maybe a place, maybe with the weather at pitch perfect precipitation…Chein-A Doll wouldn’t know that she could answer it. She’ll be late. But a point off is better than a 0. 90, 80, 70, 60, 50, 40, 30, 20, 10, they are all better than 0. But 0 is 0.
0 is nothing. Nothing has nothing. Leave this shithole and get on the bus to “high school.” School. For highs.
No color, no sound, no scent. Consider the scene in question as an arena where there are no players, no audience, no beast to master, and no king to be amused. It is waiting for something to happen.
On the corner of 000 Nothing and 0000 Nothing, there stands a fat little doll of china. Porcelain to the tinkle and cheeky hair that is imperfectly black. She stands there with a faint layer of dust on her shoulders. Her expression is dull and uninterested. She will find nothing here for her, for she sits in a place where nothing exists.
Not until two headlights cut through the nothing with their bright yellow glare, and then a road is produced.
The bus rumbles in slowly. It waits, fuel gasping for air, but the china doll doesn’t move. Finally-
U DAR. U DA CHINA DOLL HOO NEED PICK UP. U GET UP HEER.
The china doll jumps back in alarm. Thankfully, there is nothing to fall on. There is nothing at all. “…I can’t quite understand what you’re saying,” She finally says.
Y NOT.
“I just can’t understand you!” The china doll insists, staring with her mouth open at the bus screaming and sputtering at her, its engine livid with impatience. “You don’t know how to talk!”
U PUT DIS PROBLEM ON ME. U DUN DINK. U DINK IT MY FAULT.
“Well, yeah! I mean, it’s not my fault you can’t speak-”
U NO CAN SPEAK WID PEEPLE. U DINK DEY STUPID. Y U NO STUPID?
“You’re saying it’s-” the china doll begins, outraged, but trails off to a meager “-me, who’s wrong here?”
can’t understand can’t understand it speaking or me hearing no answer not sure confusion confusion can’t understand no connection i refuse to listen
WHAT UR NAME? GET UP HEER.
“My name’s Chein-A Doll,” She offers, “C-H-E-I-N-dash-A-space-D-O-L-L.”
WHERE U GOIN?
“I-what? Shouldn’t you know? You’re the one taking me there.”
I NO DA WAY. U NO WHERE. WHERE U GOIN?
“…High school.”
OK. LAST TIME. WHERE U GOIN?
Chein-A Doll pauses. If her answer is wrong, then she doesn’t know what else she could say. The space around them begins to fade again. The nothing begins to come back. Fear grips her. She can’t remain in the nothing forever.
“I’m going where everyone else is going,” Chein-A Doll blurts out, “it’s the place where we all go at this age. We go there because we have to.” She waits for the bus’ response. Let it be right, let it be right…
GOOD ENUFF. GET ON, GET ON. PEES OF SHIT.
The bus will expect another answer, at a time, maybe a place, maybe with the weather at pitch perfect precipitation…Chein-A Doll wouldn’t know that she could answer it. She’ll be late. But a point off is better than a 0. 90, 80, 70, 60, 50, 40, 30, 20, 10, they are all better than 0. But 0 is 0.
0 is nothing. Nothing has nothing. Leave this shithole and get on the bus to “high school.” School. For highs.