Spring 2001 The Anthologist
On The Shelf
Lily Gershan
The truth is I've been here the longest, I've been here since before. Before they could walk and talk. Before. When you couldn't open your mouth as the plastic spoon was pressed to your sealed lips. I remember when you didn't have to ask for it either; you didn't have to ask for food. You didn't need to say "I love you", it was just known that you did.
They think that they're better. Their limbs can bend at various joints, they can call out. As I said I've been here the longest and I know better. I know about the girl, not the little one that thinks there's actual tea in those tiny plastic cups, I know about the older one. They refer to her as Dull. She wasn't always like that, she used to laugh with me and look into my eyes and see something, we both knew what it was…although I seem to have forgotten now. I think she forgot, too. Now she comes into the room with the Boy and they lie on the bed and talk. I can't really make out what they are saying except I hear the word "love" sometimes. I wonder if she knows what that means, it used to have meaning, now she just throws it around like an old shoe that used to fit but now just adds to the clutter.
Now I sit here and I wait to die, yes, we can die. It just doesn't happen the same way as humans. We close our eyes one day and the next time that they're opened there is nothing behind them. Sure, we still say "mommy" and "I'm hungry" but that's only the batteries talking. Those of us who have them anyway, I don't and I'm glad, too. I'm hollow like a bird's bone and I don't need their machinery hooked into me, no thank you. I just want to finish with this, I want my eyes to get heavy like on really hot days when it feels as if the plastic will melt. I've had enough of this life and I want out, I'm too old and I'm still siting staring at the pink Ferrari that's made for someone smaller than me and the dream house I've never dreamed about.
She comes into the room, suddenly. She's crying and the Boy follows her in. She tells him that he should leave, she doesn't love him anymore, not ever again. He says that he's sorry, he didn't mean to hurt her. She yells at him, she pounds her fists at him, she screams "out!" and he leaves. She's not very dull now. I watch as her eyes get more glossy and she trembles slightly. I feel my body being lifted by her. She holds me close and my face is pushed to the pillow as her tears wet my cheeks. We haven't been this close in a long time. And we stay this way with her tears and muffled crying and my heart aching for her and she needs me and I need her and I feel my eyes starting to close and I fight because now I don't want the dark and the pillow is soaking wet and… and… and I know I'll be alright and she'll be alright because we have each other now and she must remember what love is. But I feel my eyes starting to close.
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