06-20-2015, 01:51 AM
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I'LL SAY "YOU HAVEN'T MET ME, I AM THE ONLY SON." Bleary hazel eyes try to focus on the utter darkness that seems to engulf the wild child. He desperately tried to remember just what had happened, but his memory was coming up as a distinct fogginess that could not be pierced no matter how hard he tried. He wanted to panic but he could not afford the luxury at the time. First the wild child must gather himself and try to figure out just what was going on. He begins to struggle once he realizes that a piece of cloth is completely smothering him and he finally manages to scoot his way out from under such a stifling piece of heavy fabric. The wild child gains his feet and he cannot help but feel that his body feels completely stiff and out-of-place. As he ponders the giant red and white checkered frilly ting of dress that had covered him up, slight whimpering disturbs his thoughts, and he has just enough time to see a plastic german shepherd dog, who sported many scuffmarks, go streaking out from under the dress and into the faint shadows of the unknown territory. He had startled at the sudden noise and brushed up against a bright red box of some sort. This was a very strange experience for the wild child. Perhaps even worse than when he had been lost in that freak sandstorm. Now he didn’t even have the desert to comfort his confused heart. His eyes were adjusting the shafts of light that seemed to filter through a small crack in the sky. There were so many indistinguishable shapes and outlines in the faint light that the wild child remained fairly bewildered the longer he stood there. But he was anything but a coward and so he begins his fairly hesitant journey through this unfamiliar world. Even with the fair amount of light he did receive, he still managed to stumble over what appeared to be a ginormous shoe with a leg attached to it. He begins to raise unbelieving eyes higher and higher until they reach the top and it was a sight he could do without out. It was a giant American Girl doll who sported raggedly shorn hair, a demented smile, and was completely missing one eye (a gaping hole in its place). She began to lean down with a delighted gasp and an eagerly grasping hand, all the while screaming, “Horsie! Rissa wants horsie! HORSIE COME BACK RIGHT NOW!!!” But the wild child knew when to fight his battles and he had started sprinting the opposite direction as soon as she had started the screaming. Booming footsteps and the sounds of crunches (from the careless way she flung the other toys out of her way) pounded after him until he happened to see an open front door of a quaint little dollhouse which he immediately dashed through with a slide that did not stop until the he had passed both the foyer, living room, and dining room. All the while Miss Nessa herself kept trying to futilely jam her chubby fist through the front doorway while shrieking a tantrum heard a mile away. He really wished Ima was here to guide him in this strange and scary world. He wanders into the little black and white tiled kitchen and then exits through the back door; he wanted to distance himself as quickly as he possibly could before the hulking giant of a girl could discover his escape hatch. But now he found himself in the middle of what he supposed was a dinosaur tea party? There was a triceratops with delicate pink bows tied around his horns and a stegosaurus which carefully poured a steaming hot pot of tea into a tiny teacup which was held by a ferocious-looking tyrannosaurus rex who even though he possessed only two fingers on his hand still managed to pull off the posh one finger in the air while you sip your tea move. Dinosaurs in frilly dresses and bonnets – he thought he’d never imagine a more peculiar sight in the world. They finally seem to acknowledge him with vicious reptilian growls and insults such as “Get outta here pipsqueak! Only the strongest have earned this privilege! We are Nerissa’s pride and joy. Learn your place! Be gone, nuisance!” They then emitted smug growls and self-praising words when the wild child was easily coaxed into leaving the tea party far far away behind him. His hazel eyes catch sight of a welcome appearance this time. It is an elegantly tall wooden figurine of a horse like himself. Perhaps this person could shed some light on the situation! He eagerly bounds up the well-worn figure, brushes his muzzle in greeting to the other’s chest, and expectantly waits. But after long moments of silence, he is disappointed to see that no life seems to be left in this toy. There are ragged scratches and marks etched into his mahogany hide and one of his ears seems to have been broken off at some point in time. His eyes are forever left hauntingly vacant and the wild child shivers in cold revulsion for this one’s end in life. A faint and desperate whisper reaches his ears and he looks to his left to find a very curious device lying on the floor. It is egg-shaped, had Japanese characters written across the top (was that Tamagotchi?), and a hot pink color, but what really caught his attention was the funny little squiggly-looking creature looking at him with such desperate eyes. “Please send help. I’m been living in filth for months and I can’t even remember the last time I’ve eaten something. I need food and medicinal supplies asap. Please. Alert the authorities if you can!” The wild child nods solemnly at this creature’s desperate plea for help and he moves on from the scene of the dead and the dying with a heavy heart. He is dismayed to find himself back to his starting point once again and the wild child leans disheartened up against the red box from earlier. But this time the box begins to rattle and shake with a strange little tune accompanying it and all of a sudden something pops out of the box laughing hysterically. “Pop goes the weasel!!” The wild child honestly wonders how much more of these ridiculous toys he can take. But the clown creature seems to sober up relatively quickly and he introduces himself as Jack-in-the-box but Jack for short. “I’ve been watching you flounder about the bottom of the toy box and I think I’ve got a plan to help you out, kid.” The young horse looks hopefully up at Jack and adds his two cents in. “Crack in sky? Can reach?” Jack obediently looks upwards and taps a thoughtful finger beneath his chin before a mischievous grin begins to spread across his face. “By golly, kid, I think you’re right! Let’s get down to business then.” It took one or two scouting trips but the wild child thinks he finally found a flaw in the slippery ninety degree angle walls. It seems that there was a penknife very deeply stuck into the side of the wall and placed extremely close to the already gaping lid thanks in part to a temper tantrum and a resulting broken latch (hence why there is filtering light into the chest to begin with). According to Jack, the penknife was stolen out of dear Nerissa’s father’s library and was supposed to nail poor ole Nessie to the chest wall but luckily, or unluckily, the sleeves of Nessie’s dress had ripped and she had fallen into the blackhole that taken residence inside the toy box and she hasn’t been located in the six months since the incident; Nessie was considered missing in action. After making that discovery, the two schemers had then developed a plan. Jack had thrown an obnoxiously yellow yo-yo over the penknife, creating a sort of pulley system. While Jack held the string of the unweighted side in his hands, the wild child had climbed onto the yo-yo and then tried to hold on as best he could all the while holding a doll-sized silver spoon in his mouth. Jack had admitted to long ago pilfering this spoon out of Rissa’s shining silverware dining set add-on because he just couldn’t stand the American Girl bully. Slowly but steadily Jack began to pull the string downwards which in turn lifted the wild child ever closer to the firm surface of the overhanging penknife. After what seemed an agonizing five minutes, he had successfully became level with the penknife. He very carefully tightened his grip on the spoon and then shakily shifted his balance and weight onto the top of the blade’s handle. Hazel eyes glance down the check that Jack was ready in spring mode with a lego brick in hand. They both nodded in agreement and the wild child reared up onto his hind legs, resting his forelegs upon the wall in front of him, and began to lever the silver spoon inbetween the box lid and wall. As soon as he managed to get at least two inches worth of space, Jack launched into the air and meticulously place the lego brick in the space to act as a sort of wedge for the wild child to inch his way through the opened space. He woops triumphantly and immediately grants Jack with his heartfelt thanks. Now he returns his gaze to the suddenly blaring light and the world outside of the toy box. MUNROE -- and now I am sure my heart can never be still |