Mmmm, the sigh escaped her lips as she began to wake. A morning stretch, now that was the ticket! She went to extend her limbs, eyes not even open, when she felt something. No, some things all around her. Panicking, she began to struggle, a futile attempt was made to buck and kick. Her mind was desperately instructing her body to free itself from the entrapment in the only way she knew how. Letting out a squeal in response to opening her eyes, she hollered and carried on. “Fiasko! Jason?!”, she called with no answer, sobs raking her body as she lay in the darkness.
“Shhh, it’s okay. Be still, be still,” an unfamiliar voice reached her ears. Trying to calm her and warn her all in the same soft tones. “Wh-what? Who’s there?” the little mare asked, her vocals shaky and uncertain. She could do little to hide the fact that she was afraid, and confused. In response a light illuminated the darkness, Wichita squeezed her eyes shut against the harsh contrast. The beams left colored spots on her vision as she slowly peeked through half closed lids.
In her anxiety she had not noticed the fact that her muzzle had been pressed up against something. Her quick breaths left fog across the surface as she found herself face to face with a mirror. Had she not been physically touching it, she would never have believed in the reflection staring back at her. A soft pastel yellow covered her entirely, he mane made soft swirls around her face and down her left shoulder. Hues of a pale lavender were streaked with bolts of Robins egg blue, the hair was shiny and coarse. The eyes, well the eyes were hers. That is to say the same chocolate brown irises were found painted on the plastic she now was. Plastic? Why, she was a toy! A tiny, plastic toy pony. Her limbs were cylinders set on a shortened body, an overly large head sat on her too thin neck. Her eyes were huge and exaggerated, painted lashes thick and curled. “What’s happened?” the question came out as nothing more than a whisper.
“I don’t know, you’re just here and now we’re awake?” it was a question as well, in the same soft voice she had heard upon waking. Her right side was right up next to a Barbie doll. A sad looking thing, the blonde tresses were uneven and choppy. The front half of its head so short she was nearly bald there. A raised arm tapered off into a nub. Marks from teeth made the amputation ragged, and mangled. The face was half covered by a temporary tattoo, the flower now only three orange petals on one side, the other half was a sticky, dirty mess completely obscuring the left eye, the result of touching the design shortly after application. “Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean too,” she apologized having been under the impression this was all something of her own doing. Her left side bounced as circular birds chattered away, chastising the green pigs that rested in between them. They were in the middle of their own unintelligible, heated debate shoving and warbling nonsense. The pigs emitted strange squeals and grunts, snorting in their rebuttal. A sticky paste lined several of them, only adding to their disturbance. Wichita herself felt the tug of a cream colored bird, shortly before it pulled itself free from her sunshine barrel. It eyed her a strange bird grin forming on its beak, as she chattered excitedly to her flock.
“What do I do,?I’ve got to get back home,” she inquired turning her attention back to Barbie. The doll blinked, her brows creasing as she seemed to consider the Pony’s question. “Well, you can’t stay here that’s for sure. She’ll ruin you, she ruins everything.” The dolls reply was sad, and Wichita couldn’t help to feel sorry for her. “Besides,” the doll continued, “too much rolling around in here and you’ll have the whole place in a commotion.” Wichita could sense the worry coming from the plastic ladies voice, the doll swiveled it head taking a good look at their location. The mare would be lying if she didn’t admit it was a bit creepy, like the scene of a horror film. Well, she wasn’t getting anywhere at this rate. Looking around there wasn’t a whole lot to be seen, the vanity lights filtered into darkness between toy after toy. She placed her front legs on the mirror, pushing herself up best as she could, which wasn’t but an inch or two in the direction she wished. The movement caused a domino effect, the round bird and piggies went rolling downward, past her back legs. Her left leg, much to her displeasure, was stuck inside an open tub of playdoh. The contents not yet hard from being left out, made a sucking noise as she pulled herself up, a noise similar to that of passing wind. “No don’t…” Barbie protested as she slid under Wichita’s belly, and parts of two new dolls took her place.
A pale gray hand brushed her right flank, tangled purple hair wrapped around the arm that supported it. Looking up, Wichita watched as the dolls ice blue eyes opened, blinking a few times in its confusion. Frosting blue makeup served to adorn the eyes of this doll, eyes that were narrowed as they peered down at the little pony. A striped grey leg from a second rested near her rump, a yowl emitting from a decidedly female voice box. “Well what have we here?” accused the grey dolly, her question filled with venom.”Purrsephone, turn around here and have a look at the pretty new toy.” There was a bit of jostling, Barbie complaining as she was prodded, “No, stop. Pony be caref..” her warnings ended as they turned into muffled calls. She couldn’t turn her head far enough to see what had befell her acquaintance, but she knew it couldn’t be good.
“Don’t worry about her lovely, we just want to play” By the tone the grey doll had used, the little mare did not like the sound of that . Her accomplice was quick to add, ”Oh,yes..You will make Spectra and I the purrrrfect new friend wont you?” Their hands had been elbow deep in what was now an open drawer of the vanity, a vanity that Wichita finally read. “Mon-ster..Hai,” she sounded out the words slowly. Monster? No, no I don’t want to be in here. Her mind raced, and her heart beat increased. She was sure the two could hear it, just waiting to burst through her plastic breast. A glint of silver reflected near the werecat’s hand while the other reached out to forcefully grab a lock of mane. “We’ll make you puuurety just like us. Don’t you want to be purrety?” the she cat purred out her taunts. “Oh I think she want’s to play with us,” the teen ghoul laughed, its sound would have left goosebumps on Wichita had she been flesh and blood still. Snnniip the shears cried out as they met each other across the mares lavender mane. The feline waved it in front of the equine as she struggled to free herself from the grey skinned ghoul, the cat had a broad smile from her deed. The eyes were cold, and cruel despite the shimmer the manufacturer had painted there. “Why, Purrsephone I think she needs a tattoo, us girls love matching tattoos.” Spectra motioned to her legs, ruts lined the plastic flesh, stained with ink. A childs attempt to carve designs into the dolls, had left a smeared homemade tattoo. A safety pin was pulled from the nearest drawer, the tip blackened with ink. Wichita’s eyes were wide as the frightful fashionista moved her way to her hind quarters, the tub of playdoh removed with one loud thuuuuckkk. That sent the two terrorists into a fit of giggles, Wichita could still feel Barbie struggling beneath her, her yelling was drowned out by whatever had covered her mouth.
Then, there was pain. Oh, there was pain, the mares eyes rolled as the poker was set against her hip. “No, stop, please, please.” She sobbed, and choked on her pleas. “Honey, were not even done with your flower yet, don’t you want a pretty flower like Purrsephone?” She knew it was a rhetorical question, because she was aware that they did not care what she wanted. She knew this type, their type. They were like her father, taking pleasure in the pain the caused others. No, they did not want to know whether she wanted a pretty flower or not. There was so much she was too defeated to say, too defeated to do, this was her lot in life. To be hurt, to be at the mercy of others, her time in the Gates had been too good to be true. Her mother had given her life for nothing, for she knew without seeing the outcome of her mother’s interference that day. Death.
There was so much noise, and movement now, that she almost missed the shriek that emitted from the silver cat. A shriek only cats made when you stepped on their tail. You know the one. “Rrrroooaaawww!” Purrsephone cried out, time seeming to have stopped and started all at once. “You bitch!” she screamed, clutching her tail. Her feline stare was one to kill as she hissed. “Go, go go!” came the triumphant battle cry, her soft voice music to Wichita’s ears waking her from her pity party. A wiggling substance brushed her ear before jiggling tentacles snaked up to grab Spectra. Its sucker filled limb wrapping around and around the ghouls trunk, trapping her and pinning her arms down. A soft tinkle sounded as the safety pin clattered its way down below. Another and another tentacle wound its way up before the purple body wiggled its way to the top. “You have a naughty mouth,” came the strange gurgling voice of the octopus, before it slapped Purrsephone squarely on the jaw and wrapped her up fast. It gave the mare a friendly wink, as it tightened it’s grip on the two struggling Monster High dolls. Next to come was the familiar squawking , the hoots and coos of the ball shaped birds. The off white lump reaching Wichita with a jubilant “Heeeeii!” three marble sized fellows bouncing at her side, all calling out excitedly.
It was like a lightbulb above her head, the kind you see in cartoons, when Wichita finally realized what Barbie had meant by “You’re here and now we are awake.” A whinny of excitement, as she pushed her plastic legs out, bouncing them off the tops of Angry Birds Barbie was pulling to the top with her good arm. The little egg shaped one bounced happily, nodding as she did so, calling out encouragement in her strange bird language. A good dozen featherheads bobbed around her now, her yellow neck snaked out ,maw open to grasp Barbie’s hand. “Lets get out of here.” she said to her new friend, who lay across her back, an attempt to shield as much of the magic pony as possible. Instructions erupted from the white bird, as they all pushed and bounced slowly upward , lifting both Barbie and Wichita towards the top. Toys rolled around them, Barbie pushed as many as she could away, swatting even with her stub. The ones that couldn’t be deflected with a shove, groaned and muttered as they came to life. Whispers and shouts as well, filling the toy box as the group moved along, coming ever closer to it’s lid.
A whisp of fur brushed her exposed ear “A-loh A-loh,” a busted Furby repeated. One eye shattered, the beak completely gone. Yips, and panting followed the touch of a Puppy Surprise, it’s tail wagging tickling Wichita’s side. Several other toys had come to life, though they didn’t stick around to find out if they were friendly or not, much to the mares relief. Reaching the top, Barbie dismounted the pony’s backside, sliding down gracefully for a toy so disfigured. “Well,it’s happy trails from here.” The dolly joked, as they all lined up. A few birds, and Hex bugs they had accidently touched supported Wichita inching her towards the line. “Okay yall, on three,” Wichita instructed as she called to the group,”One,two, three!” She shoved, she shoved with all her might. She could hear the others straining, the thud thud thud as some of the birds tried throwing themselves at the lid. The toys beneath her grunting as the supported her weight each time she pressed against the toy box lid. That was it, it was too heavy, they weren’t going anywhere. Her head hung low, hair tumbling forward. A bare spot where once a lavender lock hung, her hip lightly throbbed, she sniffed. “I’m so sorry, to all of you. This is all my fault.” Eyes closed, as she despaired.
“No, no, we can still get you out.”Barbies voice for once was firm. The yellow pony looked at her solemnly peering at her as though not even seeing her. One hand came to rest on her cheek, on the other a nub where once a hand had been. “You can do anything, be brave pony, we can find a way out, “ the once blonde bombshell said to her, lifting her dial up. “We’ll find something to help us, we just need the right toy. You have to get back home remember?” Home,hooome. Thoughts of the Gates filled her mind, thoughts of her friends. The gray blue stallion Jason, her lovely new Queen Fiasko, even with scars on her face did she persevere, she saw her painted friend in the marked up face of Barbie. Voudou the tall beautiful one, and Mast the King the one that helped her face her fears, told her it would be okay when the Tundra stallions had visited. Home. She had to go home. She frantically searched the sea of toys, only seeing parts of them eyes scanning for the answer. Something, something here had to help. “That! There, see it?see it?” she pointed with a cylindrical leg. No surprise the white bird was the first to reach it, bouncing around and calling to the others. It took most of them, including Barbie,to dig it out and bring it to the Yellow pony. The one who was precariously perched on two run down hex bugs, trying her best to be very, very still. With a single touch, it was done. Mechanical noises, alien noises, noises she couldn’t quiet describe.
It shifted, fluidly for a toy made of bits of plastic, it was still surprisingly in good shape and Wichita had her guesses why. Fenders clicked and moved, tires tucked and rolled until finally what was once a Semi was that no more.
“My name is Optimus Prime,” the robot crowed taking in its surroundings. “Autobots transform!” his words rang, and the toy box rumbled. Optimus was a Prime, and this she knew. The Prime had power over the others, and because she had awakened him he had the means to awake the others. Emerging from the depths came Bumblebee, Ratchet, and Ironhide all transforming from their vehicle forms. “Lets get this baby open!” Bumblebee jumped around excitedly jabbing at the air. “I’ve been waiting months for this,” Ironhides cool tones confirmed. “I can’t wait to get back to Brad’s room, I never thought I’d miss him making me drive the hamster around,” Ratchet rubbed his neck as he confessed. The Autobots easily lifted the lid, and the others lifted Wichita to the ledge. She turned to look at them all, favoring her sore hip, a single line tattoo would serve as souvenir. “Wont you come with me Barbie? Birds?” Her muzzle rubbed against those nearest, in a gentle farewell. Wrapping her arm around a the bouncing blues the doll shook her head in response. “I’ve got others who need me here,” she said hugging them to her, ”someone’s got to look after them.” Broken toys looked at her from all sides, most had gentle smiles. Some looked confused, holding their broken bodies because they just didn't understand. Theyshuffled around some kneeling with others to console them for their losses, others stood alone looking put out and standoffsh.
Wichita nodded that she understood. Sometimes even a disfigured half-face Barbie doll could make a difference, if she believed in herself. Even cowardly yellow ponies weren’t totally worthless, no matter how many times they had let someone hurt them. It only mattered that they got back up, and were brave enough to try. No matter how many times it took to succeed. She looked over the toy box ledge, she was out.
Count:2,767 im sorry