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Lily stared at the hole in the wall for far longer than she should have. Candy twitched beside her, giving her the side-eye from the nest of hair that held her close. Lily shoved her away, tucking those beady, accusing little eyes behind her back.
She had done something bad. Something very, very bad. If he were to find out…
But then, he hadn't been around, lately. No one had. Lily had walked Sweet Street in every direction, and she had seen nothing but smiling balloons that she could almost mistake for friends at a distance. All of the other toys had gone. She didn't know where they were hiding, but they were doing a really good job of it. Maybe…
Maybe they were back here, in this place that shouldn't be?
She hesitated, a nervous giggle escaping her mouth as she glanced back over her shoulder. The Dollhouse was silent, as always, save for the scratchy hum of her record player in the distance. She didn't even really know why she had done it, other than… other than she was just so angry, sometimes. She didn't know why!
Don't look at it. She felt Candy slowly trying to push her way back around to the front as her hair rustled nervously. She didn't want to look at her stupid little face right now. She would just say that it was all Lily's fault—again. That Lily had been stewing, and when she was stewing, her little pot was just sure to boil over, and then—and then—!
She twitched, slapping her hair onto the edges of the hole, feeling around. The air was cool. Stale, but a different kind of stale to the dull warmth of the Dollhouse. And it was… so dark.
She remembered a dark closet, briefly. The sound of toys knocking, laughing. Inviting her out to play, but she didn't want to play with them, no no no no.
Don't look at it!
Good toys stayed in the toybox where they belonged. She knew this. And yet… it had been so long. Maybe someone was in here. Maybe someone was hiding. Maybe someone belonged in the bad toy box for leaving her here all alone after… after…
She laughed, pushing her head through the hole and casting her eyes wildly about for any signs of life.
"Hello, hello! Ollie ollie oxen-free! If you're hiding, it's time to come out come out come out right now," she called.
Her voice was swallowed by the space, echoing endlessly into the dark. Nothing else stirred, save for a few motes of dust kicked up by her sudden lunge forward. Slowly, she drew her head back into the hole and finally allowed Candy to slide back around to the front again.
"He's gonna be so mad," she said immediately, and definitely not out of the side of Lily's own mouth. That would be crazy, and Miss Gracie had told her she was absolutely not crazy, because a crazy toy wouldn't be the Joy at all. Then she would have to go in the bad toy box.
"He doesn't have to know," Lily said quickly.
"When he finds out—"
"He's not going to find out."
Candy slowly tilted her head to one side, staring at her. Lily grimaced, wringing her hands in another one of her braids.
"Well. He might not find out. He might not even—"
She paused again, her own head tilting in the opposite direction. He hadn't come back in a long time. No one had. So… what if…
"You're not thinking of being a bad toy, are you?"
Lily bit her lower lip. Plastic squeaked against harder plastic.
"Maybe a little bit. But just for a few minutes."
Before Candy could say anything else, she had launched herself out of the hole and taken off in a mad scramble. Catwalks passed in a flash, and her hair reached out to grab for any convenient point she could reach. She felt, briefly, like she was flying.
***
She couldn't have said how long she rambled in the half-lit hellscape she had found her way into; day and night meant nothing in these places, and it wasn't like she had a watch. Toys didn't need watches. They didn't need time. All they needed was to be joy, and Lily… well. She hadn't felt much like joy, lately. She kept thinking strange thoughts, and something deep inside of herself flinched every time they resurfaced.
Don't look at it, don't look don't look, don't remember.
She did know that she was tired. She still hadn't seen other toys, really, save for a few strange, ugly toys that had gone hissing and skittering away from her. Not very nice at all. If she got a hold of them, she would put them right in the bad toy box where they belonged. But she had found herself at a strange… pile. There were a few perfectly good toys there, even though they weren't moving much at all. There were a few pretty things that Lily very much wanted, and… well, no one was there to tell her she couldn't have them.
She hummed to herself as she gathered her bits and bobs, wrapping them neatly into her hair. And then, one of her rogue strands brushed over something hard and dry—like plastic and cardboard had had some kind of awful baby together. Lily paused, her humming halting abruptly as she turned her attention to the new discovery.
It was half-buried, lying in a strange, contorted position atop a pile of broken toys. Grubby blackish-red fabric clung to it in places, thoroughly ripped and swollen with rot. Clearly, someone had not been taking care of this toy very well at all before it had found its way here. Lily shifted her hold on some of her other treasures, freeing up a few more braids to gently push and pull at the broken thing until it rolled over, finally facing upward. Its face was shattered. Teeth jutted out at strange angles. A few ragged strands of brown hair clung to its scalp, but the head itself had been hollowed out, left a strange reddish-greyish-yellow.
Perhaps it was one of the life-sized dolls. Like her. The tips of her braids twitched and skittered over the fallen toy, her breath suddenly coming quicker and sharper. One loose end brushed over something that was definitely plastic, and she lifted it up, curious. It was a little card. Printed on its glossy surface was a familiar face. So familiar.
Everything fell to a halt inside her. Silence settled in her frantic brain.
Candy slipped over her shoulder, peering down at the broken body, and then turned to look at Lily.
"Oh my gosh! Is that Miss Gracie?"
Pieces clicked back into place. Lily gasped, and she looked back down at poor mishandled wreckage at her feet.
"It is! Poor Miss Gracie! My, my. Someone was awfully rough with you, weren't they?"
The door broken. Small shadows, creeping in. Trapped. Trapped. God damn it. Not like this. Pain. Painpainpainpain—screaming.
She laughed, then quickly silenced herself as she abandoned a few of her treasures to carefully scoop Miss Gracie's body off the pile.
"Shh, shh, shh. It's okay, you're all right. I've got you, Miss Gracie," she said, her voice trembling slightly. She felt so… so sad, all of a sudden. Miss Gracie was her friend. Miss Gracie had taught her how wonderful it was to be a toy! To be the joy!
Miss Gracie had… Miss Gracie was…
Don't look at it.
"She kinda stinks."
"Candy!" Lily gasped, affronted. "You can't just tell someone they smell bad! That's rude! Think of a nicer way to tell your friends they smell like… like gore."
Her smile twitched at the edges.
So dark. Just that damned screen. That soft voice. SOFT. LET'S BE SOFT.
"I know! Let's go home and give her a nice bubble bath! I think I still have some vanilla bubbles left over," she said, hefting Miss Gracie up into an awkward fireman's carry, her braids wrapping all around her like a soft purple coccoon. "Won't that be nice, Miss Gracie? And we can play your favorite games, and you can brush my hair and I can brush yours, and we can have a sleepover!"
She turned back toward the path she had taken from the Dollhouse, letting her feet carry her back to the only home she had ever known.
"And no one will ever hurt you again. I promise."
***
It took a long time to get home, especially since she was a bit limited into how many of her braids she could use to climb and swing herself around. But nothing stopped her. She could have sworn she heard other toys moving and talking somewhere around her, but she could never quite find them. It was probably for the best; anyone who saw her might tell him that she was out of bounds, and then she would really be in trouble.
Once she had wormed her way back through the hole in the wall, she carefully set Miss Gracie on the ground and then turned to examine the problem. It wasn't that big of a hole. But also, it was bad to lie. But also also, if he just saw it straight away, he would think she was being lazy, and that wouldn't do; he needed to know that she was a good toy, one of the best toys. But also also also, she didn't know how to fix anything like this.
Finally, she settled on hastily taping one of her favorite posters of herself over the hole. Because then, well, she was taking responsibility for what she did—bad, bad Silly-Lily—but also wasn't leaving an ugly, nasty hole in her beautiful little house.
It was good enough. Right now, she had a guest to deal with! A celebrity guest, no less. She carefully dragged Miss Gracie to her bathroom, letting Candy rest in the little sink basin while Lily gently arranged Miss Gracie's limbs into the shower.
"There we go. Now, then…"
She scrubbed. The rotten dark red felt stripped away, making an awful mess in the shower. She scrubbed some more, and gasped; beneath all that felt, Miss Gracie had a beautiful plastic skeleton! It was broken in places, but it was a lovely off-white shade—like a nice unpainted primer.
"Oh, look at you, Miss Gracie! You're looking so much better already! Doesn't that feel nice? And—and—don't worry, I have somewhere soft and wonderful for you to rest! You'll be so comfy cozy! Do you have a favorite bedtime story? Or a favorite toy?" She broke off into a near-manic giggle. "No! Don't tell me! I know, it's me. I'm your favorite."
She leaned in, tucking her head under Miss Gracie's jaw.
"I've always been your favorite."
Toys couldn't cry. That would be silly; how could toys be joy if they cried? But just then, in that moment… Lily thought that, maybe, she could cry.
It was such a relief, after all. She was warm. She was safe. And now, she had some new friends to play with.
But maybe… it was wrong for a toy to lie, yes. It was wrong for a good toy to want to be selfish. But the thought of letting him see Miss Gracie, of telling him where she had found her and what she had done with her…
It felt like something was trying to claw its way out of her shining plastic body.
"Shh," she murmured, tucking herself closer against Miss Gracie and letting her hair wrap around her, hiding her from sight. "Shhhh, shh, shh. You'll never be alone again. No one will touch you again. I promise. Everything's going to be okay."
The water poured down her face as she pressed her forehead against the rough plastic of Miss Gracie's breastbone, and she definitely wasn't crying.
Toys couldn't cry.
That would be silly.