A Toy’s Story

It was at a toy store when I met my “sister” for the first time. She walked through the doors of the shop with her younger siblings in tow. If my memory serves me right, she couldn’t be more than 10 years old at that time, while her siblings couldn’t be more than 5. From the corner where I was placed, I could see them walking through the different aisles of the store, and browsing through the items they had to offer. I could also see her younger siblings looking and exclaiming with enthusiasm, like any other children. She on the other hand, was looking with disinterest that didn’t seem to befit her age. I don’t know why but this behavior struck my fancy, so I kept gazing at her. Finally, they reached my spot, and when my eyes met hers, the previous bored expression left her face and was replaced with a vivacious smile. I was extremely enamored by her that my mind went blank and the next thing I knew I was being put back in my place with the promise of, “I’ll come back for you.”

I wasn’t really expecting anything, if I’m honestly speaking. I’ve had my fair share of false acquisitions from children saying they’ll come back for me but never do, so I don’t have any hopes up this time too. However, it seems the world is working in my favor this time. After a few minutes, she came back to the store with her dad this time, and immediately went to pick me up.

Throughout the years that she and I have spent together, I have learnt that she is a huge fan of my trademark. Any Mickey Mouse stuff she sees, it’d make her want to buy it immediately, but due to budget restrictions then, she was unable to do so, so when she does manage to buy stuff, it would usually be things like me - a soft, cuddly, and cute plush toy. I also came to know that once she “bonds” with someone, or in my case, something, she gets extremely loyal to him/her/it/them, which brings us to my current situation.

It has been almost 15 years since our fateful encounter, both her and I have grown to extents our previous selves wouldn’t expect. She grew to be the best person I know and I grew to be her loyal side-kick. Anywhere she goes, I go, and whatever she does something, I also do it with her, with the exception of outdoor activities, as an adult carrying stuffed toys outside is beyond the social norms. Bottomline, I do everything with her. These activities have led the wear and tear of my body. Her dog who is against me hogging all the her attention to myself also contributed to these unfortunate circumstances. At first, it was easy to dress whatever wounds I have as they were mostly superficial, but as time progressed, it slowly became harder to fix the bruises, as most wounds would affect the previous ones, and would re-open them. Nonetheless, she never gave up. Lots of people have tried asking her to just discard me, but she never does. “He’s my bestfriend.” She would always say, and everytime I would hear those words, my need to stay strong for her further multiplies.

Currently, we are facing the pandemic. We could neither travel nor go anywhere else. Basically, we are just cooped up mostly at home. This led to us spending more time than usual. It was also the time she had fully managed to see the extent of my damage. One contributing factor I could think of is probably she mourns what happened to me, but seeing as there is a huge demographic of people currently fixing was their plushies on tiktok, I am inclined to believe that she is influenced by those. So, when she announced that she bought a sewing machine to learn how to sew, so she could fix me, I wasn’t the least bit surprised.

It took a month for her to be confident in her skills, even then I know she still has lingering doubts on whether she could fix me, but I know she could do it. I have seen her every step of the way of her learning, so even if she has no confidence in herself, on behalf of her, I believe in her. It took a week to convince her to but fabric for me, but atleast she did it. When it arrived, she didn’t immediately touch it, but one night, she did.

“I’ll be taking you apart now,” is what she told me. Seeing as I don’t really have the ability to tell her to go for it, I just gazed at her wishing she could feel it. She spent that night taking me apart, removing the stitches carefully and taking great care in handling me. When she was done taking me apart, she laid out the pieces of my body on to a cardboard, and began tracing the pattern to my body. Afterwards, she cut it, pieced it together, and made a mock-up of my shape. When she was contented with what she has, she began to put it into application. She placed the pattern onto the fabric needed for me, cut it, then sewed it together. Lastly, she put my new pattern to my existing form, and sewed it all together.

I could feel her closing the last stitch, on my back. A few minutes later, she went and inspected the outcome of her project, I was expecting to see an expression of relief, I got a ridiculous laugh instead. Curiousity got the best of me, but without an ability to talk, I can’t exactly tell her what I want, so I just gazed at her. I wasn’t really expecting anything, but the next thing she does is putting me in front of her tablet’s camera and letting me see her work. I now know why she laughed.

To say that I look ridiculous is an understatement. I look extremely weird. My fit figure is gone, my hands are disproportioned and my neck is gone. It’s safe to say the least, that it was a “botched” operation. I know that it was partially my fault since I encouraged her, so I just resigned myself to this fate, and Icouldn’t bring myself to despise her for what she had done, since she seems content in what she has accomplished. I also don’t want to rain on her parade.

She now calls me “chunky” since I was chunkier than my previous model. As days pass, I became more accustomed to how I look. It also took her time to get used to it, but nonetheless, she gained s new found confidence in herself, and that is what the most important. I also now get more compliments from the rest of the family, not that it’s important, so I guess all’s well that ends well.