I do not approve...

Mondays at school are always the hardest. You are so tired in the morning you can hardly get any work done, and when lunch comes around you never have anyone to talk to. You tried to talk to another kid this morning, but you were too shy to follow through. Making friends is a constant struggle.

You can finally get on the bus to ride home. You get a whole bench to yourself because you never have anyone to sit by you, and when you get home, the rest of the day seems to fly by. You finally fall asleep, but not for long.

It is late, the clock chimes midnight. You bolt up in your bed, wide awake. Nothing woke you, nobody’s around. Normal. But, when you stand up, there is something new.

A large chest sits at the foot of your bed, one that wasn’t there before. You run to it, your bare feet tapping gently across the wooden floor, approaching the chest.

There is no lock, so visible way to get in. You pull and you tug on the lid of the chest, but it won’t open. Then, you realize that there is a note tucked under the edge of the chest. You pick it up and read.

I know who you are, but you don’t know me.

I also know you want a friend, someone to play with.

I can do that, but I’m asleep right now.

I have been for a few years.

All you have to do to wake me up

Is sing a lullabye to me.

Then I’ll let you see inside the chest.

The note was right. You did want a friend. “Maybe I can find this person and they can be my friend!” You think. But I never told you where I am. That’s right, I’m the one who gave you that note. Not entirely sure what to do, you flip over the not to see if you missed anything. You did.

If you want to find me,

I’m right underneath you,

closer than you think.

You think for a few seconds, and it isn’t long before you conclude that I am probably in the basement. It is the only room in the house that is underneath you, because your room is on the first floor. You dash out the door and down the hallway, your shoe-less feet barely pitter-pattering enough to wake anyone.

So you run down the hallway in your winter-ish fall-ish pajamas, and open the door to your basement. Your basement is not finished, so the hardwood floor changes to cold hard concrete right on the first stair. You flip the light switch, not able to do anything in the dark. Down the stairs you go, entering the cold damp basement.

“Wow, it’s dark down here. And cold. Maybe I should have brought shoes.” You say quietly, looking down at your bare feet. You shrug it off, too excited to find me to bother with shoes. You won’t find me here though, I am closer to the chest than you think.

Still, you dash around the basement, throwing around junk searching for a person. You’d think if I were a person you’d find me by now. I’m not a person. I am Ragdoll Child or Wren, but you don’t know that.

After about an hour of searching, it is 1:05 am, and you walk back upstairs with no luck.

“Where are you?” You whisper, trying not to wake your parents or little sister. I try to call out to you but I can’t. Not until you wake me up.

You walk back into your room with just as many friends as you have before. You pick up the note and read it a few more times. ‘I am closer than you think’. The words pound in your head. If it’s closer than the basement but still below you, where is it?

You pace back and forth, the floor silent beneath your feet. Until once. One of the wooden floorboards creaks. A lot. You look down and find the one beam that is not like the others, and pry on the edge of it. It moves! Some more pulling and it finally gives away, opening up with hidden hinges holding it on the ground. A secret container!

You reach into the empty space until you feel something soft. Fabric. Me. You clutch onto me and pull me out. When you look down, in your hand is a brown cloth, patched up bag, with the bottom of it tied around a ball to make a head. My head. I flop in your hand, not able to hold up that head. After looking at me for a few seconds, you growl a little.

“You aren’t a friend. You’re a doll!” You yell, still quiet enough to not wake anybody up. I feel your arm move. You throw me at a wall, and I hit the ground hard. You sit down in your bed again, and I can see you from where I lay on the floor. You curl up your legs and hug them against your chest, holding the note, reading it over again and again.

“Sing a lullabye to me. Why a lullabye? What is that supposed to mean?” You turn your head and look at me again. Then all I can see is your feet as you walk closer to me. You lift me up again, and look at me, then return to your soft bed with me in hand.

“It’s worth a try.” You say. Then you start to sing.

“Sleep child and night will blanket your dreams,” I feel life flow through my rag body.  

“Dream child in color, yellows and greens, Sleep child and night will cover you care for you, night isn’t dark as it seems,”

the first beam of sunlight comes through your window and hits me square in the face. Lucky for me, my X eyes can’t see light. But suddenly they could. You wake me up, and I fly up into the air so quickly, trying to get out of the sun’s way. You jump up too. Of course, you’re not used to seeing flying ragdolls.

I jet over to your desk, walk around for a second, and find a paper and a colored pencil. I slip my skinny arm out from under the cloth, grip the pencil with both tiny hands and write.

I am Ren. You can call me Ragdoll Child if you

want. I can’t talk, and any time you’re not playing

with me, I fall asleep. You need to sing me that

lullabye to wake me up again. I will still be your

friend.

You smile and hold out your hand, palm up. I fly over and sit down in it criss cross, looking up at you. I wonder to myself what you will do.

“You wanna piggyback ride?” You ask. Yeah! I nod my little head and stand up in your hand, just to jump into the air, spin around you, and cling to your back. You laugh, and we both hear footsteps in the hallway, soon followed by the sweet scent of pancakes being cooked.

You run through the hallways with me on your back, and when we get to the kitchen, you sit down at the table and place me in a chair beside you. I am still at least a foot under the table, because I am only about 4 inches tall.

“Hmm, that’s not good enough... I got it!” Leaving me in the chair, you run into the living room, and return with your arms stuffed with pillows from the couch. I feel you lift me up and put me on the table, then you stack the pillows on my chair until it is level with the table. You with me back on the chair on top of the pillows, and you nod triumphantly.

“That’s better!” You say. Your mother walks over to the table, and hands you a plate of pancakes. Then she sees me.

“Where did you get this?” She asks you. She lifts me up into the air and examines me. You know you can’t tell her the truth, she would never believe you.

“I found it in the basement! It’s my new friend.” You say, shoving a bite of fluffy warm pancake in your mouth. She puts me back down.

         “What's his name?” She asks, not too concerned at the sight of another toy.

          “Umm, Wren. I call him Ragdoll Child though,”

          “Well I'm sure Ragdoll Child wants some pancakes too,” your mother walks back over to the stove and pulls out something small, and puts a drop of pancake batter on the pan. Soon she comes over with a tiny doll plate with a really tiny stack of three pancakes with a tiny fraction of a slice of butter and a drop of syrup. She places it in front of me on the table, and when she isn't looking, I dart forward and eat it, struggling to get it to my mouth under the cloth.

Then I flop on the chair again when she turns back around, the pancakes are gone, but I still seem to be in the same place. She looks confused for a second, then smiles.

Your dad and mom get their own pancakes, and join us at the table. You smile at them and keep eating. As soon as you finish, you jump up into the air, and grab me off of my pillow throne. Your parents nod at you, a sign that you can leave the table.

When we get to your room, your eyes fall on the large chest again. I know you want me to open it, so that’s what I do. I pull out a small piece of metal from a necklace under my fabric cloak, It is a small flat rectangle of metal, that looks to be of no significance.

I slide it between two boards along the seam of the lid with you watching close behind. As if triggered by a button or something, the lid pops open. I fly up and perch on your shoulder as you look into the chest in awe.