Life of the Little Dancing Girl

[Guest The Phantom]

Imagine a box, pretty and pink. You open the lid, greeted by a tiny plastic girl who spins to the tinkling bell like melody. The dainty,blonde, blank-faced figure wears a tutu; She is bound to a spring with a cruel fate of being trapped for eternity.

You ask yourself: what is it like to be stuck in a box your whole life, neglected most of the time, but still expected to spring up joyfully and dance just to make someone else happy?

The lid slams shut, forcing you face down on a hard pile of jewels. You wait alone in the dark small space dreaming of a life in freedom. There is no fresh air for breathing.

Sudenley, after a long time in darkness, the lid opens and the blinding light comes in and stings your eyes. You are handled in the rough care of children who play with your spring, tap your head, and wind you up over and over again.

That is the sad existence of a music box ballerina.

[Melaena]

I really like this writing.

[Bjorn]

Wow, very insightful. Nice articulation, and very well written.